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maevesheart · 5 months

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only angel (2)

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!READER

note: wasn’t originally planning on making a part two to this but it just seemed so unfinished??!?! and i love ruthless reader idk she’s a queen

summary: through your alliance with katniss, you and finnick rekindle some buried feelings.

wc: 5.2k

tw: violence, death, brutal!!reader, blood, allusions to forced prostitution

only angel (1)

SEVEN YEARS EARLIER, THE 68TH HUNGER GAMES

Brutus and Enobaria sat in front of you and Mace, your district mate.

They reminded you of strategies that you had been taught your whole life, ensuring that as long as you two played into the Capitol’s hands, you’d get plenty of sponsors and come out alive.

Mace and you had never been close back home, but you saw him in the shopping centers, had some mutual friends. It was someone familiar, and even though your two mentors spent more time perfecting your wielding of knives and crocodile tears, you hoped Mace could somehow make it far in the games. Like you knew you would.

Enobaria and Brutus had introduced you to the various other Career Tributes, taking their time to butter up the other mentors, ensuring a ticket for your survival.

You were small compared to the other tributes, even the girl from Twelve was bigger than you.

But you trained, and you trained hard, showing off the various knife and sword tricks that had been engraved in your brain since you were a child.

Enobaria helped with your endurance, shocked by how fast you were. She had instructed you to not show that off to the other tributes, don’t give too much away.

After the private sessions with your mentors, you were stronger, faster, and more agile than Mace could even dream. You almost felt bad, the way Enobaria and Brutus were setting him up for death.

But, at the end of the day, only one can make it out alive.

Enobaria was strategic, determined for you to win. She instructed you to not show too many strengths in the private session with the Gamemakers, just enough to get a respectable score for someone from a Career District.

You followed her instructions to a tee, refusing to be one of the 23 fallen.

For the interviews, Ceasar laughed at your innocent comments and jokes, complimenting the head piece you wore, noting how it looked like a halo.

“Beautiful, like an Angel,” he smiled, the crowed cheering in agreement.

You giggled, smoothing down the uncomfortable golden dress they had sewn you into.

The crowd roared with your unwavering confidence, the arrogance paired with your baby-face and innocent smile was enough to send them into a fit of convivial.

It was just too easy.

The night before the games you had snuck out of the floor for Two, going up to the rooftop in hopes of having a moment to yourself.

You perched on the ledge, a small nightgown barely covering your shivering body.

You closed your eyes to relish in what could possibly be your last moments of peace, before being snapped from your trance by footsteps echoing.

You whipped around, teeth barring and senses on high alert. You were already acting like the wild animal Enobaria had been training you to be.

“Not in the arena just yet,” a smooth voice sounds out, a boy a few years older than you coming into view.

You recognized him as Finnick Odair. He had won a few years back, and was now returning as a mentor.

You ignored him, turning back to the outline of the Capitol.

He approached you slowly, leaning his body against the glass railing you were propped against.

You looked up to him, tired-eyes meeting his, somehow seemingly sparkling.

“Unfortunately,” you spoke, your mouth in a straight line. Enobaria had introduced you to him during the parade, but his tributes were not ally-material.

He laughed at your response. You stared at him, unamused.

“Feisty,” he smirked, watching you look away from him and back to the skyline.

“Not really in the mood to talk about my fate,” you said, his eyes still burning two holes into the side of your face.

His smile dropped slightly, having once been in your position himself.

He reminded himself you were only 15. A year older than he was when he won.

He had only won 3 years ago, and stood on this same rooftop. Looking out on the same city skyline.

Your peripheral vision caught him lean both his forearms onto the glass, shifting closer to you.

“Is it just as scary as it seems?” You ask. You were a child. A child that had been trained to hunt and kill. But deep down, you were just a scared kid. How would you kill all those people?

Finnick hums, acknowledging the same question that wracked his mind the nights before his games.

“It is,” he recognized your fear, but refused to give you false hope that it wouldn’t be as brutal as it truly is.

The words Enobaria had spoken to you earlier bounced around your brain, it’s just killing. Self-defense. All of it. Don’t be scared to kill someone who isn’t scared to kill you.

You let out a long breath, closing your eyes.

“I don’t want to die,”

It was quiet, but Finnick heard it, head perking up and turning to stare at you.

The role as a tribute was meant to bring great honor to someone from your district, but you were terrified. You were young, passionate. You had so much to give and so little time to give it all.

“Enobaria told me to hide my strengths, and I did. I’ll be able to kill them, once it comes down to it. But how will I live with myself?”

Finnick asked himself the same question everyday. How did he kill all those people? Sure, it was survival. Him or them. But how do you continue your life, pretending like you hadn’t murdered people on live national television?

“I—“ Finnick fell short, eyes still watching the side of your face.

“How do you cope with it all?” You finally turned to him, salty tears on your cheeks.

He knew you were preparing yourself for the inevitable. He had heard Enobaria boast about you, and had seen you in training. Other tributes would be frightened to get close to you.

He didn’t answer, swallowing thickly. You would soon understand, you would be in his position.

You choked out a sob, hands wrapping around your body.

He watched with wild eyes, before pulling you into his warm chest, head burrowing in his body.

You made no move to remove yourself from his body, and his arms were snug against your back.

“Kill as many as you can, as soon as you can. Then lay low, hunt. Don’t fall for any of that ally-bullshit.”

His voice was rushed, eyes filled with emotion. He felt for you, a scared child. He remembered his fear all too well.

You sniffled in his chest, hands balling at the thin fabric of his top.

And you listened to him.

In those next few hours, during the bloodbath, you killed two, both with knives to the chest. The Capitol citizens cheered as your face reflected the highest kill-count. You knew it was nothing to be proud of.

That next evening, while the rest of the Career pack slept, you stole the boy from One’s — Yves — backpack, shoving their weapons into it as quietly as possible.

Your small size came handy, being able to stealthily move around them, you were lucky the arena was a desert, sand not making a noise.

The girl from One — Aithon — began to lightly stir, and you knew it was now or never. Finnick’s words from the night before mixed with Enobaria’s, and that was all you needed to take a sword in each hand and take down the two tributes from One.

Their deaths were quick, the canons sounding out and Mace waking up, his laying figure looking up at you. Small but powerful.

You stood over his body, one foot on each of his arms, keeping him from reaching up to you.

His face twisted in confusion, looking over to the blood pouring from Yves and Aithon, each who had just been sleeping soundly next to him.

Your knife neared his face in milliseconds, and you had to force your arms down as he began to scream.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could whisper, guilt beginning to cloud your senses.

But you pushed past it, knowing you had to come out alive. No other option.

“Y/N! Please!”

And then there was silence.

He wasn’t anything special, but he was from home.

You held in tears as the canon sounded, running from the three as quickly as you could.

Whilst you hid behind one of the large cacti around the arena, Enobaria grinned as Capitol citizens celebrated her and you, her star tribute.

Finnick watched, heart tugging, knowing that he had encouraged the killings, he had told you to trust no one. And you had listened.

And from then on, you became the Capitol’s angel, their winged symbol of purity, despite the blood and deaths of many on your hands.

When Snow placed the crown on your head, you smiled, naively, and thanked the crowd. Thanked them for their donations, and their belief in you from the beginning.

But that’s all you were to them: a spectacle. A little girl who killed five in one day, a little girl who’s life had been dedicated to these games, to win. A little girl who would never get her purity back, never get to sleep without seeing Mace’s terrified face before she killed him.

He didn’t deserve it, none of them did. But it was life or death. And there was no way you were going to die.

PRESENT DAY, THE THIRD QUARTER QUELL

Your group continued up to the Cornucopia, you and Finnick taking the tail.

Peeta and Finnick drew a map in the dark sand, you leaned against the side of the metal Cornucopia, Johanna plopping down next to you, and Katniss on your other side.

It all happened in a blur. One second, Wiress was singing her song about a mouse and the clock, and the next, Gloss was on top of her, knife straight into the heart.

Katniss’s arrow struck him, you grabbing your swords to get Cashmere who was standing behind him.

Finnick rushed after you. He knew you could take Cashmere, but what happened if Brutus appeared? Brutus had never been kind to you, and it was doubtful he would start now.

Your sword stuck Cashmere in the leg, and she screamed, falling onto the little amount of ground that the middle sector offered.

She turned over, knife in her left hand, grazing your ankle slightly. Luckily your stylist had dressed you in thicker socks; she had been an absolute idiot about most things, but at least she had your back in the arena.

Your thigh was still slightly burning with pain, but you pushed through it, sticking both your swords into Cashmere’s chest, a strangled gasp leaving her lips and her head falling back against the ground.

The canon sounded out, but you continued to pull your swords out and drive them back into her chest, more blood pouring out.

You were grunting now, mind hyper-aware of your actions, but refusing to stop.

You kept driving the sharp tools into her chest, her body slightly moving up when you retracted the metal, and then caving in as you pushed them back.

You weren’t going to die; you refused to.

Hands were on your shoulders, pulling you backwards, and you turned, swinging.

Finnick let go and backed away, hands held up. He knew you’d never hurt him, but once you’re in the killing mindset, it’s very hard to break it.

You dropped the weapons to your side, a long breath leaving your lips that you hadn’t realized you’d be holding in.

Finnick pulled you along with him, hand on your side as he brought you over to everyone else.

All of them were staring with wide eyes — besides Johanna of course.

Katniss knew you were brutal, but she didn’t realize how quickly you did turn into the angel of death. One second you were smiling, laughing at something Johanna had said.

Then your eyes were lit with a fire, teeth out, and running, faster than Katniss had ever seen someone move.

She had watched you kill Cashmere in seconds, continuing to drive the weapons into her, sounds of exasperation leaving your lips but you were unrelenting.

You felt like you were fifteen again, scared and angry, brutal to anyone who crossed your path. Your swordsmanship was uncanny, and Katniss dreaded the moment that she had to try and kill you.

And then the Cornucopia began to spin, extremely fast. You grabbed onto Finnick, a sword sucking down into the water, your other tight in the palm of your opposite hand.

You and Finnick fell to the ground, grabbing at the hard rocks to keep from flying to the water.

And then you heard Peeta scream Katniss’s name, and the two of you both yelled a loud, “shit!”

You pushed off the hard ground, crawling to the side of the island, hand reaching down to grab Johanna’s axe and try to hoist the two of them up.

You grunted, holding onto a small portion of the metal that wasn’t sharp. Your feet dug into the ground, sword shoved into the rock to keep you grounded.

You watched as Katniss went flying down, and then Johanna was on top of you, the two of you gasping for oxygen when the spinning stopped.

You and Johanna were back on your feet, rushing to help Katniss out of the water.

You all made your way back onto the sand, where it was relatively safe.

You discussed strategy, your fingers tracing different shapes into Finnick’s thigh.

“Who’s left then?” Katniss asked, eyes flickering between you and Johanna, the two of you having a conversation with your eyes.

“Brutus and Chaff, I think that’s all,” Peeta announced, all eyes shifting to you at the mention of your district-mate.

“I get Brutus,” you spoke clearly, eyes hard.

“Y/N…” Finnick spoke, hand smoothing down your arm.

“Just… I know him. I can handle it, I swear,”

He had helped train you, of course you would know his methods like the back of your hand. You had been seeking revenge for years, waiting for the day you could get him back.

What had the games done to you? Fantasizing about killing someone?

And then you were back there, back to the moment your life really ended.

You were dressed in clothes Snow had picked out, a hairstyle Snow had picked out, makeup Snow had picked out. You were his newest doll, malleable to his every demand.

It was your victory tour, and Enobaria and Brutus were accompanying you, helping you with speeches and coming to terms with your new life as a Capitol pet.

You were finishing up in the Capitol, the final destination. Snow had laid out his conditions for you: your pride and body now belonged to the Capitol, and with it, they could do what they pleased. Your company came with a high price.

He had threatened your family back in Two, describing in detail what would become of them if you didn’t comply with his wishes.

You had gone back to the train and told Enobaria and Brutus, eyes spilling hot tears when Enobaria pulled you into her arms, hands stroking your hair. At least she was kind.

Brutus, however, was not.

His boisterous laugh rang off the walls of the train, your eyes peeking out from Enobaria’s embrace to glare at him.

“Let me know when you start, sweetheart,” he smirked, a scowl overtaking your features.

You had been waiting to get him back, to show him that weren’t a little slave for his disposal. Finnick understood your rage, more than any other person could.

He wanted to kill Brutus just as badly as you did.

No one else asked any questions, and for that you were grateful.

And then the screaming started, and you jumped to your feet, eyes frantic and scanning the area.

Whoever it was, they were screaming for Katniss, and rather brutally as well.

And off she took. You were the fastest, so you caught her first, arms around her shoulders to steady her, but she kept moving, screaming back to the voice.

She stopped abruptly, and shot an arrow into a large black bird that was flying over your heads.

The screaming stopped immediately. And then it began again, this time, it was the voice of Mace. And you felt the blood drain from your entire body, legs suddenly shaking and threatening to go out.

The words he had screamed to you before you had slit his throat were wrapping around your body, swallowing you whole.

“Y/N! Please! Y/N!” You were running then, the screaming getting louder and louder, tears streaming down your face as you tried to escape it; the horror that would haunt you forever.

“It’s not real, they’re jabberjays!” Katniss assured you, running behind you, trying to catch up.

You saw Finnick and Johanna’s faces ahead through your blurry vision, and you sped up, Finnick’s arms wide for you to run into.

But it was a force field, and you collided right into it, falling to the ground in a heap of tears and painful memories.

You covered your ears, head digging into the ground to stop the noise, but it wouldn’t stop. You wailed, and Finnick was hitting the force field, which he was standing on the direct other side, but there was no avail.

He was screaming for you, to look at him, listen to his voice. But the field was soundproof, and he had to watch with a heavy heart as you sobbed, the sounds of the person you betrayed all those years ago the only thing you could focus on.

Finnick’s hands were all over you, smoothing down your hair, checking your face, helping you stand.

Peeta was doing the same with Katniss, the both of you having tear-stains down your cheeks and dirt smudged into your cheeks.

You were frozen solid, eyes big and wide, legs slightly shaking. You had never felt worse about something than what you did to Mace that dreadful night. His screams haunted your dreams, and to have the Gamemakers play into that weakness reminded you just who the real enemy is.

“Y/N, look at me,” Finnick’s hands were on the sides of your face, pulling you closer to his protective figure.

“It wasn’t real. It wasn’t him,” he shook his head lightly, your lips still quivering from fear.

You could only muster the strength to simply nod, telling him that you knew, but the Gamemakers were cruel, so cruel, and they had hit you right where it hurt.

Just as you were beginning to regain your usual automatic-kill mindset, a small box flew down, straight into your hands.

Everyone gathered around you, curious as to what could’ve been sent.

You knew Enobaria would have your back, and considering the sponsors this year were based upon what you had left over from your games, you were lucky. You had a large pot of donations under your name, not needing much assistance when you were in your first games.

You screwed off the top, being met with a small vile of Crave Cure, the very concoction that she had sent you during your games. It came with a note reading: remember who the real enemy is. I’m always rooting for you. - Baria

That assured you of Enobaria’s stance, likely scheming with Haymitch and Plutarch behind the scenes, ensuring your protection by Thirteen.

Finnick smiled next to you, Johanna calling out with happiness.

“Finally!” Johanna cheered, axe thrust into the air.

You even broke a smile, suddenly distracted from the traumatic experience you had just endured.

You looked up, seeing the confused looks on Katniss and Peeta’s faces.

They would’ve never heard of Crave Cure, it was the most expensive thing a mentor could send their tribute, and required many sponsors. It was usually only sent to the Careers, both you and Finnick had received it during your games.

“Crave Cure,” you spoke, Katniss’s eyes meeting yours.

“One drop on your tongue and it cures hunger for 12 hours,” you smiled to them, picking up the vile.

“Enobaria is a saint,” Johanna spoke, watching as you dropped a tiny bit of the brown liquid onto your tongue, a content sigh escaping your lips.

Beetee went next, then Finnick and Johanna.

Katniss and Peeta stood awkwardly to the side, not knowing to approach or not.

“Oh, enough of that! We’re allied, aren’t we? Take a drop,” you urged, placing the vile into her hands.

Peeta nodded, and that seemed to be all the convincing Katniss needed before mimicking your action and gagging when she tasted the fluid.

You laughed at her expression, a light-hearted tease. “Not the best, but it does do its job,”

You figured you had really won her trust, considering how she walked next to you during the hike to the big tree.

The two of you talked about your families back home. You complimented her dedication, to protect her little sister.

She had killed your Cato and Clove; the two you had spent hours coaching, assuring they’d be okay in the end. Words you had needed so badly during your games.

Through talking with Katniss, you realized no one deserved to win as much as she did. She was selfless, willing to sacrifice herself for both her sister and Peeta, placing herself as a protector, not a victim.

And then the peace you had all been building crashed down, Katniss suddenly retreating from the trust you all had built after Beetee offered she go with you and Johanna.

“Why can’t Johanna and Y/N go? I’ll protect you with Peeta,” she spoke, and you met Finnick’s gaze. You read the fear in his eyes, knowing this the was now or never moment.

“Katniss,” you spoke, hands resting on her shoulders.

“You know who the true enemy is,” you whispered, holding her intense eye-contact.

Her eyes softened at your words, everything seemingly clicking into place. With a nod, you grabbed her hand, and pulled her with you and Johanna.

A look over your shoulder to Finnick, and a nod. Your eyes said it all: I love you. I’ll see you soon, once we are safe and out of the Capitol’s hands.

You and Johanna halted your movements, stopping Katniss as you did.

“Stay down,” Johanna instructed Katniss, grabbing her arm.

“What-“ Katniss was about to scream, and you could not let that happen.

You grabbed her face with your hands, eyes frantic for her faith.

“You can trust us,” you whispered, barely loud enough for the cameras to pick up on.

But the raw emotion in your eyes calmed Katniss, giving Johanna the opportunity to cut the tracker out, Katniss’s arm beginning to bleed heavily.

“It’s alright,” you soothed her, your arm out to Johanna, waiting for the inevitable sear of pain.

And then it came, and you placed your body over Katniss’s not allowing her to get up and try to attack.

But then you spotted Brutus over the rock, his hard eyes staring straight into yours.

“Y/N,” Johanna warned, watching the familiar fire begin to brew.

You were up in seconds, sword in one hand, knife in the other, running up the rocky hill. The pain in your arm was masked by the rush of adrenaline you ran high off, killing spree — if you will.

Johanna grunted in anger, but she knew not to expect anything different from you.

“Do not move,” she instructed Katniss, picking up her axe to follow you.

You had reached Brutus quickly, pouncing onto his back and driving your sword straight through his abdomen.

He cried out in pain, blood soon coating your legs that wrapped around his waist.

You pulled the sword out, taking the knife to his neck. He was dead in seconds, the familiar canon sounding throughout the arena.

After registering what you had done, images of Katniss flooded your mind and you internally cursed yourself, rushing back to the spot you had left her and Johanna.

Johanna was back to your side, but Katniss was no where to be seen.

“Fuck!” You cursed, sprinting back towards the tree where Beetee, Finnick, and Peeta were.

She had likely gone back to protect Peeta and kill Finnick, and you were not about to let that happen.

Johanna tried to keep up with you; but even with a gushing arm and slit leg, you were fast. Much faster than anyone else.

“Finnick!” You screamed, feet pounding against the hard ground, propelling you towards the tree, where you watched Katniss aim her arrow straight at Finnick’s head.

Beetee was on the ground, and you crouched, feeling for his pulse. His heart was still beating and you hovered over him protectively, in case Katniss decided to turn around and fire at you too. Which seemed very likely.

You watched as Finnick said something to Katniss, obviously resonating with her, the bow slightly lowering.

“Johanna! Give me your arm!” You swung around, panic-struck and searching for the familiar face.

And you saw her a few feet below, trying to climb the vines you had mounted with ease.

You looked between Finnick and her, torn as to which to try and protect. You knew Finnick would hold his own, so you turned back around and began to move for Johanna, quick feet avoiding possible injuries.

But just as you were in grabbing-distance of her, Finnick’s voice rang out, screaming, “Get away from that tree!”

A crack of something echoed around you, and you turned wildly, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Then you understand what Finnick had meant, a loud crack of lightening rained down and sent you flying, reaching for Johanna as you flew past her, her terrified eyes meeting yours.

The last thing you remembered was being pulled up into the air by a large claw, head and limbs limp as you were hoisted up; sword still secure in your palm, a protection habit you had picked up since your games. You always needed to be armed, after all, life was the arena.

You awoke to the sound of a heart monitor, steady beeping lightly calming your high-alert nerves.

You winced sitting up, large bandages wrapped around your forearm and thigh.

You inspected your surroundings, two empty mats in front of you, and Katniss sleeping to your left.

You stood, hushed voices on the other side of the door that reached the ceiling of the craft you were on.

You looked for a weapon of sorts, not willing to go in unarmed. On the other side of the empty room was your sword, glimmering and coated in blood.

You walked over to it, legs sore and aching, the familiar metal calming against your palm.

The door immediately opened as you approached it, Haymitch and Plutarch’s widening as they spotted your weapon of choice clutched in your ruthless hands.

But it dropped to the floor with a loud clatter when your tired eyes met Finnick’s, a relieved smile coming over your features.

You rushed to him, throwing yourself into his arms. His lips met yours halfway, melting into his strong hold around your body.

The two of you fit together perfectly, like you had been made in the same mold.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tighter to your already close bodies.

You poured all your pent up feelings into the kiss, all the feelings you had suppressed since the fight that had ended your relationship.

It was the most relaxed you had been in the whole week, since your name was plucked from the bowl of living victors.

His lips moved against yours as he squeezed your hips, hands feeling everything they could, to ensure that it was in fact you, and you were alive and safe in front of him.

You pulled a part, a grin across your small face.

He smiled back, but your bliss was interrupted from the clearing of a throat behind you. You spun around, eyes meeting the expectant ones of Haymitch, Plutarch, and Beetee.

The look on your face said it all. And Haymitch nodded, validating all the thoughts that had been running through your head.

You were safe, headed for the secret hideout of Thirteen. All was okay.

You almost began to laugh thinking about how the Capitol would react, their Angel and Darling being two of the biggest conspirators in a rebellion. How ironic.

And Katniss was on the ship, you had successfully carried out your tasks.

“Where’s Johanna?” You asked, a smile still dotting your face.

Finnick’s composure broke, and your heart dropped, realizing the obvious.

“No, no, no, no,” you began to back away, spine hitting the hard metal of the table.

“I went after Brutus, I didn’t cut the tracker… fuck! Oh my god, Finnick, oh god,” you began to dry-heave, accepting her capture as your fault.

Finnick’s hands were on your biceps, steadying you and pulling you back into his chest.

“Johanna and Peeta are in the Capitol,” Plutarch spoke, your worst fears being confirmed.

“It’s all my fault,” you groaned, head in your hands. You had killed, hunted, and tortured. But the idea of a friend’s death being on your hands hurt more than any of those ever did.

Haymitch spoke reassuring words behind you, but Finnick’s hold and the idea of betraying Johanna was all you could focus on.

How would she forgive you? Was she alive? How would you ever cope if she wasn’t, and it was all your fault? Of course, you let the murderer take over, and went after Brutus.

Finnick’s arms soothed down your back, keeping your grounded as you were flooded with grief, with the heavy weight of betrayal.

Johanna and you were close friends, you were supposed to protect each other in the games. She had protected you, always by your side, and you neglected to do the same.

“We’re going to try and rescue them as soon as we can,” Haymitch said, even though you all knew that might be an impossible task.

And then Finnick slipped his hand into yours, fingers curling around yours and softly rubbing your knuckles.

You composed yourself, closing your eyes as you took in a deep breath, regaining focus on just your interlocked hands. Finnick always knew how to relax you.

All you had wanted initially was to get out of this quarter quell alive, to return home to your big mansion and family. To hug them again, to prove to the Capitol that they could take everything from you, but they couldn’t kill you.

But now, you realized that all had been in vain. Where you really belonged was here, holding hands with Finnick, discussing how you were going to break your friends from the Capitol’s mean grip.

You’d die for him, for them. You’d flap your wings once more to ensure they’d all live.

When Katniss first volunteered for Primrose, you hadn’t understood how she would sacrifice her life for another.

But now you knew, and you knew you’d do it too.

You finally had something to live for, someone you loved, who understood all that you had gone through better than anyone else.

Life was the arena, and if it came down to it, you knew the angel would sacrifice herself for the darling.

#imagine #angst #maeve writes 🎀#finnick odair x you #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair #thg finnick #finnick odair x reader #catching fire

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nataliedecorsair · 1 year

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In contrast to the gloomy and mysterious world of Heather, Pticenoga and Vaughn’s AU is pretty cheerful and full of nonsense. This is the world of Borderlands, and therefore it is reckless, sometimes dark, but nevertheless very alive. The tone of the art with them, respectively, differs from the tone of the art with Heather. And, since this is an AU (means alternative universe), some moments from the canonical Borderlands were changed. For example, the third Borderlands game and everything related to it doesn’t exist here. Also I should remind you that Pticenoga is my OC way from 2011 and she had nothing to do with the game originally, and I created the Borderlands AU for her several years later.

In this universe, Pticenoga (or Hedwig, or Yadwiga - that's her name; Pticenoga is more like a nickname) is a "messed up" siren who, even before her birth, was influenced by natural Eridium, and as a result her "siren power" went out of control. Normal sirens sometimes have "magical wings" - Hedwig was born straight up looking like a bird, with all the accompanying pros and cons. Shade, her adoptive father, found it pretty amusing and liked it a lot, but most of the other people weren’t that impressed. And, given the fact that the closest bird to her would be a vulture, her behavior did not contribute to her popularity in society. But time passed, she grew up - and Hedwig learned to more or less control her siren powers and she could transform into an ordinary woman. But in this form she loses all the advantages of Pticenoga: she cannot fly, loses her strength and endurance, loses resistance to fire damage, and so on. But she can merge with the crowd now, if it’s necessary. All in all, Hedwig is a woman with a bit of bells and whistles... After all, this is the world of Borderlands. For example, she can smear herself with rotten corpses to use the stench as a weapon. Or in the heat of a battle, she can bite off an enemy's finger, devour it, and ask for more. But in a sense, this craziness is partially the reason why her relationship with Vaughn was developed.

A portion of passion, a portion of humor and a pinch of trash with raw meat - it’s pretty much the recipe for the pairing between Pticenoga and Vaughn. He is a former corporate accountant learning to survive on the wild planet of Pandora; she is a bit of a deranged, "wild" siren, ready to protect her loved ones and punch enemies in the face (not always successful, but nonetheless). After arriving on Pandora, Vaughn discovered his love for crazy stuff and was happy to occasionally let loose his suppressed aggressive side - and Pticenoga is happy to help him with this. But sometimes she is also happy to "calm down" and feel normal, and Vaughn doesn't mind showing her that side of life. Of course, their shenanigans do not always end well, and the "loser" side of Vaughn didn't go anywhere, just like Hedwig's instability. But they are ready to support each other, no matter what. Even if this support sometimes takes strange forms (for example, Vaughn can gather corpses for her if necessary...). Or, as a bonus, Pticenoga can sometimes troll Vaughn a little. But he does not mind; he answers her the same way… when he can. --- Also, I was messing around with GBA sims thing and you can see the result in the end xD --- Almost all interactions are based on me & my husband’s shenanigans The engagement ring was also Borderlands themed

#pticenoga #harpy #siren #borderlands au #borderlands #vaughn #Vaughn the Money Man #art #artists on tumblr #original character #original art #fanon #monster girl #Monster #nataliedecorsair #natalie de corsair

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gatitties · 5 months

Note

Hi! Love your work!

I was wondering if you could do a headcannon with the straw hats in the skypiea arc, if a child reader got merked by Enel (maybe not actually dead just looks as if) and what would be the reactions? And action taken?

Feel free to ignore (please dont😭) bye bye!!

─Strawhats x child!reader (platonic)

─Summary: general headcanons of you being attacked in Skypiea

─Warnings: none

oh!! don't worry I barely ignore requests, I just take a long time to write 😔✋🏻

─ The moment you arrive at Skypiea the crew may give you up for lost, you are a curious child and this whole world of clouds keeps you distracted long enough to forget that you have a crew with which to continue a journey.

─ Everyone is so immersed in the place and its customs that they don't seem to notice how you enter that jungle full of enormous trees.

─ How you stayed alive during all that time of exploration taking into account that you were a wanted criminal for not having paid the initial bail, the number of wild animals in the forest and even Enel's priests is a mystery.

─ You come face to face with Enel, in reality, he approached you because he could feel you, being the weakest link he thought it wouldn't be fun for someone like you to be in his death game, so he decided to get rid of you before it started.

─ You put up a good fight ─bites─ but you didn't have enough skill to defeat the self-proclaimed God, running away only served you for a while until your energy was completely exhausted.

─ Enel's first mistake was thinking that you wouldn't need an attack that was too powerful to knock you out of the game, although you got a good spark, since you started traveling with this crew your body had learned to withstand a certain amount of pain, in short, you did not have the same resistance or abilities that a child your age would have, which helped you stay alive.

─ Robin was the one who found you, despite having just gotten out of her own fight, finding you limp on the ground with barely any breathing made all the pain in her body disappear, she crouched down and took you in her arms in the hope of reaching as soon as possible with the rest, but especially with Chopper so that he could treat you if he could.

─ Everyone seemed gathered except Nami, everyone was completely hurt, their expressions only darkened more when they saw how Robin brought your body, Luffy clenched his fist in anger when he saw you, not knowing if you were going to open your eyes, Usopp hugged Zoro praying in murmurs as Sanji and Chopper approached you.

─ Luffy didn't even wait to find out if you were okay or not, he simply started running towards Enel again, not only for revenge but to rescue Nami as well, Sanji joined in after knowing that you would be in the hands of the crew's doctor.

─ The others couldn't do much more than watch, hoping it wasn't the worst.

─ Everyone's face seemed to light up when you began to cough desperately, you opened your eyes and moved like a fish out of water, when you adjusted to the lighting you found everyone's face looking closely at you.

─ Everything continued as it should, maybe Enel took a couple more punches than necessary while fighting Luffy, but the important thing was that you didn't have any casualties during the trip.

─ Maybe it's a little more annoying for you now, but the crew refused to let you wander alone when there would be potential dangers lurking, so your exploration time was over, only until you could escape of course.

#one piece #one #request #platonic #platonic reader #child reader #one piece x reader #one piece x platonic reader #one piece x child reader #reader insert #strawhats #strawhats x reader #strawhats x platonic reader #strawhats x child reader #op #sfw #skypiea #strawhat pirates

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mcflymemes · 1 month

Text

AS SAID BY GARRUS VAKARIAN, updated version * assorted dialogue from the mass effect trilogy, adjust as necessary

i can't find any hard evidence.

good luck, [name]. maybe they'll listen to you.

i'm coming with you.

sometimes it feels like the rules are only there to stop me from doing my work.

i just couldn't take it anymore.

maybe i can get the job done my way for a change.

if you're wrong, we'll pay for it. but if you're right, and we did nothing, i think we'd regret it a whole lot more.

i thought you were dead.

it sure is good to see a friendly face.

at least it's not hard to find criminals here. all i have to do is point my gun and shoot.

my feelings got in the way of my better judgement.

i'll make you a deal. you get me out of here alive, and i'll tell you the whole damn thing.

nobody would give me a mirror. how bad is it?

don't make me laugh, damn it.

some women find facial scars attractive.

i'm fit for duty whenever you need me.

when i got to the meeting point, no one was there.

kill you? no. but i don't mind slowing you down a little.

what do you want from me, [name]?

i know you want to talk about this... but i don't. not yet.

it's so much easier to see the world in black and white. gray... i don't know what to do with gray.

my instincts are what got me into this mess.

never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.

well, why the hell not? there's nobody in this galaxy i respect more than you.

if we can figure out a way to make it work, then... yeah. definitely.

you're about the only friend i've got left in this screwed-up galaxy.

you don't ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. nervous, yes... but never uncomfortable.

i brought wine.

your hair looks... good. and your waist is... very supportive.

hopefully that's not offensive in human culture.

i want something to go right. just once.

think you can win this thing, [name]?

i'm pretty sure we'll still need giant guns... and lots of them.

so... is this the part where we shake hands?

the scars are starting to fade. i remember they drove you wild.

i've been doing some more research on human customs.

glad to know my romantic skills made an impression.

let's not go there.

i can afford the good stuff.

what about you? i'm starting to see some wear and tear.

don't forget to come up for air. and not just because all these people need you. because i need you.

if you're suggesting i'm scared... game on.

still trying to make me blush, huh?

i'd be lying if i said i didn't hope it would inspire a certain... mood.

it seemed like you needed time to... figure us out.

the worst part about the galaxy going to hell would've been never getting to see you again.

not saying you don't know how to handle a gun. just saying some of us know how to make it dance.

i've actually seen you dance. no comment.

i know there are other things you're good at.

probably not a lot of air in here. an hour if we're lucky.

so tell me. think a girl would fall for that?

it gets even better when you try it in bed.

you don't lack for places to get lost.

did we break anything last night?

you'll find a way to win. and when this is over, i'll be waiting for you.

if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there... meet me at the bar. i'm buying.

forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you.

come back alive. it'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you.

we're in this 'til the end.

we didn’t kill these people. and we’re going to shut down the bastards who did.

looks like we’ve got a siege on our hand.

if anyone needs fresh clips or a bathroom break, now’s the time.

oh crap!

guess he didn’t like the food.

looks like we got the jump.

pretty extreme, but those were desperate times.

we won’t get a second chance.

that was me, sorry.

nothing like being stranded.

we’ll do more than that.

just the usual minor flesh wound.

what would these people have done if we hadn’t shown up?

i was there when you two had your thing, remember? just get a room and work it out.

stay angry. we’ll need it to get through this.

drinks will be on me.

one of my favorite places to fight!

i’m hard to kill. you should know that.

it’s gonna be bad all over.

for whatever it’s worth, i’m with you.

you’ve waited long enough for this day.

just wait ‘til this war is over.

you came along and warmed my heart with your winning personality.

maybe you’d like to go work for them instead?

how do i not have one of those?

surprise on our side for once. i like it.

brutal, but it makes a certain kind of sense.

#garrus vakarian #mass effect #mcflymemes #rp prompt #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

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sonicblueartist · 2 months

Note

What about a one-shot or just a suggestive story where Shadow takes advantage of y/n?

A/n: I'm probably gonna get all the fans' attention with this one huh? I normally don't write anyone but Tails but I am making an expection for some reason today. Have a good read I guess! Idk why I write what I write today XD Sorry for the long wait.

I left you guys in a cliffhanger. hah! idk if I would continue tho

Masterlist

Pairings: Shadow x Reader

They/them // She/her // He/him // Other

Summery; Eggman made a new weapon out of Shadow. Let's see what it is

Warnings: smut, lemon, suggestive themes, blood, marking, biting, tearing flesh, attempted rape

Word Count: 1371

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

As your eyes flickered over him in fear, you were instantly struck by the sharp and scary aura emanating from his breathtaking violet eyes. Shadow stood before you, his chest heaving rapidly as if he had just completed a long and demanding marathon. His fur was damp, drenched in sweat, and his claws peeked out menacingly from his gloves. His fangs were visible, adding to the unnerving sight that confronted you. But what puzzled you most was the absence of any evidentiary explanation for his condition, except for one haunting phrase that echoed in your mind.

"What do you think is the most natural instinct of an animal, the most wild and scary one?" Eggman's voice resonated in your head, reminding you of his words moments ago. "Their bloodlust? Hunger to stay alive? Maybe. But there is something else that is much *more* dangerous and entertaining. 'The will to do anything to death for their mate.' "

The memory of Eggman's sinister revelation half an hour ago flooded your mind. You hadn't expected this game of catch to turn into something so disturbing. Though you had managed to catch your breath, your heart still raced uncontrollably, struggling to make sense of the unsettling situation unfolding before you.

Your eyes widened in fear as Shadow took deliberate steps toward you, raising the possibility of him falling victim to Eggman's trap, turning against his friends. A sense of terror gripped you, leaving you feeling trapped with no way to escape. Desperately, you scanned your surroundings, searching for an exit, but found nothing. You found yourself backed into a dead end.

"And to mate, of course." Your throat tightened as you heard Eggman's words reverberating in your mind. The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning—Shadow was hungry, thirsty for you. Eggman's twisted plans had successfully turned him, and now the true extent of Shadow' instincts became clear. No, this couldn't be true. Shadow wouldn't do this to you, would he? The shocking dishonor of Eggman's manipulation left you bewildered, unable to fathom the torment inflicted upon your friends.

"C-come on, Shadow. This isn't you," you started nervously, your voice shaking. "We both know that you don't wanna do this. Behave yourself! Think logically, like you always do! We're still in Eggman's base. He's playing with you, with your mind, your instincts! You are the ultimate life form, damn it! You can't just succumb to Eggman like that! There are Badniks running around, and if they find us, we're finished-"

Your plea was interrupted as Shadow forcefully pinned both his hands beside your head, a whimper left your lips in fear. A deep snarl escaping his lips as you attempted to slide away. Trapped between him and the wall, you realized the extent of his transformation. No longer the loyal companion you once knew, he approached you with predatory purpose, garnered by one sole instinct—breeding. You were left with a terrifying decision. Would you become the first to fall at his hands before the Badniks got to you?

After examining his prey's frightened face for a while, Shadow slowly lowered himself, his nose skimming along your neck. His actions mirrored those of a true animal, inhaling your scent as his salivating mouth revealed his primal desire for your presence. The sensation of his warm breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, intensifying the horrifying nature of the situation.

Attempting to muster the strength to push him away, you fought against his grip, but his strength surpassed anything you could have imagined. Like an iron vice, his grasp held firm, rendering your efforts fruitless. In spite of the predicament you found yourself in, you couldn't help but be mesmerized by Shadow' well-built form, his muscles flexing in the most hypnotic manner.

You quickly shook away such distracting thoughts, forcing yourself to concentrate on finding a way out of this nightmare. Every fiber of your being screamed for escape as Shadow began to suckle at your neck and shoulder, exhaling his hot breath in sporadic bursts. The sounds he made only served to further ignite the blazing heat that reddened your face, flooding you with a mix of desire and terror.

Suppressing a moan, you desperately struggled to redirect your focus, your mind racing for an escape plan. Yet, how could you concentrate on anything other than the overpowering dominance Shadow exhibited? Pressed against the wall by his scorching body, each breath and moan he emitted only served to remind you of the pleasure he was experiencing.

Amidst his sloppy kisses and teasing nibbles, you fought fiercely against the sensations threatening to consume you, trying to maintain your composure. However, as Shadow momentarily eased the pressure of his body against yours, he replaced it with his leg pressed against your groin, effectively preventing any escape. The mix of pain and pleasure elicited a whine from your lips, pushing Shadow to suckle at your shoulder with renewed vigor.

Finally, he got bored and withdrew from his sloppy territory. The room grew suffocatingly silent as he moved his fangs along your throat, gently biting a few places, feeling your heartbeat increasing. He licked his lips and shifted his attention to your other shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses and sucking hungrily, leaving little marks. But it seemed like that wasn't enough for him anymore; he growled, as if yearning for something more primal.

With his fingers deeply entwined in your hair, he pulled, causing you to gasp, displaying your neck like a plate of meal to him. Without warning, he sank his teeth into your shoulder, his fangs piercing through your skin. Tears slipped from your eyes as you cried out in pain. He let your arms go and held you tightly from your waist, as you gripped his back for support. You closed your eyes, gritting your teeth, and unwillingly scratched his back in pain. It felt as though his teeth were digging deeper into your shoulder, testing your limits.

Shadow let out a pleasured sigh through his nose, not yet satisfied. He continued biting harder than before, his eyes closed as he let out an animalistic growl. The realization that he could break your neck in half if he wanted sent a shiver through your spine. He sucked your blood with such thirst leaving you weak as you sobbed silently, drinking and swallowing it all as if he hadn't had a drop in weeks.

Before things grew any wilder, he pulled back, a string of blood and saliva still connecting the two of you. Panting for air, he tried to lick all the blood flowing from his mouth with his tongue, his breath hot against your face. Your blood flowed from your shoulder to your chest.

Satisfied with the mark he left on you, Shadow now went for your lips. Gripping your form, he forced his lips onto yours, connecting them. You hesitated, not wanting to taste the disgusting blend of your blood and his saliva. He pulled your hair once again, and when you whimpered in pain, he immediately seized the opportunity and engaged in a fierce kiss, taking your breath away.

Your heart raced as his hand wandered across your body in a manner both unnerving and inquisitive. He marked his territory, staking claim to every inch of your being. Your mind battled to comprehend the situation, as your body responded to his predatory touch.

Fighting the rising panic, you summoned your inner strength you managed to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a desperate attempt to distract him. As your lips collided in a feverish kiss, you hoped to manipulate the situation to your advantage.

To your surprise, he welcomed your advances. He tilted his head, letting out a low, carnal moan. Sensing that this could be your one chance to regain control, you decided to play along. You pushed aside your feelings of self-disgust and harnessed your newfound determination.

As you passionately kissed, your mind churned, searching for an escape plan. With each stolen moment, you became acutely aware of his animalistic nature, his primal desires, and his desperate need to assert dominance. Yet, instead of submitting to the imminent danger, an idea began to form in your mind.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic characters #allenwrites #sonic #shadow x reader #shadow #shadow the ultimate lifeform #shadow the hedgehog #sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #shadow the hedghog fanart #shadow the hedgehog x reader

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martiniblues · 10 months

Text

i’d give up forever to touch you ; 이민형

pairing idol!mark x female!reader

synopsis while mark is away on tour, you find yourself looking back at old memories of you two. you have grown used to spending these moments alone while mark is gone, but little do you know he is doing the same thing miles and miles away.

genre established relationship, light angst, fluff, reader uses she!her pronouns, nicknames used for reader (pretty girl, baby) and mark (baby, pretty boy).

wc 1.8k

song : iris by the goo goo dolls

the sheets wrinkled beneath your shifting body. nearly silent crinkles filled the empty void within your room. slivers of light from the moon fell onto your restless figure, highlighting your messy hair and stretched-out shirt. you had gotten into bed at eleven; it was now three, and not a single ounce of your body felt tired.

thoughts ran wild in your brain, causing every other part of your body to feel more than alive. it’s not like this is the first time he’s had to go. with comebacks, schedules, and shows, mark was constantly on the go. most of the time, there would be two to three days in a row where the only place you would see mark was through the screen of your phone.

one time he had to be gone for a week while preparing for a new album, and looking back now, you wish you hadn’t been so dramatic. a week felt like a breeze compared to the treacherous months you were now facing without mark. not only was he physically not here with you in bed, your head rested on his chest, or vice versa, he also hadn’t texted or called all day.

at the beginning, you two constantly kept in touch, sending random photos or messages about how much you missed each other. but now with a dramatic time zone, texts fell further and further apart, which then turned into silence. you missed him more than words could explain; the t-shirt that hugged your body relived some of your sorrow, reminding you of how he had thrown it off the night before he left. giving in, you grabbed your phone from its spot next to you and opened your camera roll, clicking on your favorited photos.

some were of friends and family, but the majority were of you and mark. silly mirror photos taken when putting on face masks and spur of the moment selfies reflected back onto your face, causing your eyes to sting. maybe if it hadn’t been for the overflowing emotion you felt, the tears could be blamed on your brightness being too high, but it took no genius to know the reason. videos from picnics under sunny skies and tipsy late night games echoed in your room and settled right into your heart. silent tears continued to spill down your flushed cheeks, going unnoticed due to your full attention being on your boyfriend. you continued to scroll, stopping on a distinct image. the photo had been taken a little over a year ago.

the two of you sat on the edge of the sidewalk outside of your apartment complex. mark had a full day of schedules, giving him only the dark hours of the night to slip by your place and see you before he had to get up and do it all over again. his exhaustion quickly converted to energy after being in your arms as he stepped into your place. "dude… you’re like a human portable charger." his words were muffled due to being pressed into your neck, before he pulled back to look at you with wide eyes. "can we go for a walk?" he practically begged before lacing your fingers together and pulling you out into the chilly nighttime atmosphere.

"honestly…" you began while the two of you stepped in sync, hands still interlocked and swinging between your bodies. mark made a little hum as his head quickly turned at the sound of your voice. "i was expecting you to pass out when you came over." a breathy laugh left your lips as he continued to swing your hands. "what can i say? it’s just what you do to me, dude." the cheesy words made you both break out into giggles, never once disconnecting your hands. even when he began to wander off, your body just followed his smoothly, like it was second nature.

at this moment though, you stopped. "oh, mark you really know how to make a girl swoon, dude." your unexpected stop made him turn around as your hands became disconnected. at the sudden loss of contact, he quickly made his way back to you, as if you were miles away and not just a few steps. "baby you know i mean it as a term of endearment. i don’t just call anyone dude." his fingers made their way to your face and threaded a few careless strands behind your ear. his hand continued to slowly make its way down your neck and arm, finally re-entwining your fingers as they once were.

your body, which was once cold due to the dropping temperatures, instantly grew hot at his loving gesture. "so haechan, jisung, jeno, and practically all of your friends are on the same level as me?" you teased, tilting your head to the side and peering at your boyfriend through squinted eyes. "no dude- i mean, baby, of course not. hey, i don’t call anyone else pretty girl except you. right, pretty girl?" if there’s one thing you and mark were good at, it was getting each other flustered, and while he tended to express his a lot more than you, this nickname was one of the few gestures you couldn’t pull a poker face at.

feeling your cheeks instantly redden, you dropped your head and stared at the concrete beneath you. even with your eyes glued to the ground, you could practically see the smirk pulling at mark’s lips. "i got you good, huh?" he continued, causing your cheeks to deepen in color. using his free hand, he cupped your face so you could look right at him. "pretty girl," he teased breathlessly once more before pulling you towards him. as your lips slotted between his, you couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. mark couldn’t hold back either, as you could clearly feel his cheek bunch up under your palm. "you finally got some game, huh, pretty boy," you joked, finally pulling back from his firm hold.

just as you did moments before, mark’s ears and cheeks instantly flushed at the new nickname. "dude stop," he whined, turning away and walking further down the street as he sulked. "oh, shut up, you big baby." you quickly got up behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso to stop his movement. mark titled his head over his shoulder to look back at you.

he could have sworn right there in that very moment that he fell in love with you. the look you had in your eyes like you held everything he ever needed within two small irises, and your hands burning straight through the thin fabric of his shirt and imprinting right into his bones. it’s not like this was the first time love came to mind. he was in love with you and had been for a long time, but in this exact moment, he found himself losing all sense of control and completely falling into you and your entire being.

his chest tightened at the memory. the afternoon sunlight covered his skin, warming him up even more than he already was. his shoulders slumped and his lips pouted ever so slightly as he scrolled through the countless candid photos he had of you. he had been stuck on a specific one for quite some time. from none other than that very night.

the two of you had paused your walk and decided to sit under a street lamp. small white flowers bloomed onto the patch of grass next to you. remembering the habit you had as a kid, you began to braid each flower with another to create a crown. maybe it was the focused expression on your face or the way the light from above you both seemed to settle around you like a halo, but mark swore if he didn’t capture you that very instant that he would regret it for the rest of his life. noticing his movements from the corner of your eye, you swiftly turned your head to catch him in the act.

his thumb pressed down on the screen, causing the photo to turn into a short clip. you had pulled an exaggerated smile at his phone before the both of you broke into a laugh, flowers still in hand. the sound of your laughter was enough to pull a small one out of him at that moment. still sitting in the bed, he reached over and grabbed his headphones from the bedside table. he knew, or rather, he thought, that you would be fast asleep during this time.

every single day had become harder and harder, even if it meant he was closer and closer to seeing you again. if it were up to him, he would book a one-way flight straight to you, even if he could only see you for a day. hell, he could buy you a ticket and fly you to him in no time, but with school and work, he did not want to stress you out even more than you already were. it’s selfish; he knows it, but he wishes you would let him be greedy and keep you by his side the whole tour.

clicking shuffle on his playlist, iris by the goo goo dolls began to drift into his ears. it’s like some higher being knew exactly how he felt and queued the song on purpose. shifting to lay flat on his back, mark stared at the ceiling and pictured that you were there with him, hand in hand, listening to this song together.

your body grew hotter the more you held back your own emotions. yanking the covers off, you situated yourself on your back and gazed upward. not being able to look anywhere else. he was all around you. from picture frames on your dresser to discarded sweatshirts on your floor, everything reminded you of him. but for mark, the only part of you he had was on his phone, and with that, you were still light years away.

a single tear sprouting from the corner of your eye, quickly lead a trail past your lips and down your neck. little did you know that mark too had a tear pool down his cheek in that exact same moment. picking up his phone and opening your texts, he quickly sent you a message.

[one audio] made me think of you and how badly i miss you man. it’s true “i’d give up forever to touch you” right now pretty girl. sleep well for me if you aren’t already. call me when you wake up no matter what time it is. i need to hear your voice. im deprived hehe :)) i love you lots and lots baby. talk to you so soon <333

note i got a tad bit carried away with this oops. but iris has been stuck in my head for days now and i also have been into more angsty reads recently so BOOM here’s this. i know it’s prob not my best work lol but i just wanted to get something out and hopefully get some feedback. if you made it this far thank you so much for reading!!

read part two here!

#mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #mark x reader #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct dream #nct 127 fic #nct dream fic #nct #nct mark

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beardedjoel · 10 months

Text

new habits

part two of new addiction | part one

boss!joel x f!reader one-shot collection

summary: you can’t place the emotion - is joel miller guilty for the rendezvous you two had in his office? you soon get an answer in the form of another late night visit with him.

warnings: 18+! MDNI! non-apocalypse au, boss!joel is a lil mean but not too mean, oral sex (f recieving), dirty talk, unprotected piv, fingering, cum play, squirting, size kink kinda, panty stealing, daddy kink (my hand slipped i swear)

word count: 5.1k

a/n: hellooooo back with another part for boss!joel and reader, i got literally one request for another part and was like yep i’m not tired of them yet at ALL so here we go! time to get more depraved with my fav manager

If you didn’t know any better, it would seem like Joel Miller was avoiding you.

The day after what you’ve been referring to as the incident (the most mind blowing incident) he hadn’t even stopped by the office, spending the entire day out at the construction sites. That was a Friday, so the entire weekend you pined, plotted, and over thought the whole thing. Could it be possible that Joel - the same Joel who had gladly and enthusiastically spit right into your mouth for fuck’s sake - was feeling guilty? He certainly hadn’t seemed it when his cock was shoved so deep in your pussy you could’ve seen stars, so what the hell gives now?

Monday came, and Joel breezed into the office in his typical manner, too busy for anything other than a quick “morning” to you all, grumbling that “there’d better be coffee made” before working on scheduling and blueprints in his office for a few hours.

Just having him so close by, your desk mere feet from his office door, makes your skin buzz. Knowing the things you did in there, the depths of your depravity with him that nobody else in the room could even dream about, makes you wild. You realize halfway through the day you’re practically soaking your panties with just your thoughts alone. You really could stand to get it together, you think as you sneak into the break room for a cup of tea, hoping the calming drink could take your mind off of things.

Suddenly the exact opposite is happening when Joel enters the room, sidling up next to you at the counter, fixing to pour himself a cup of coffee. For a few moments just the potent, rich smell of it hangs in the air between you two and Joel clears his throat a little.

“How was your weekend, doll?” he asks quietly, and when you glance at him in semi-shock, he has a knowing smirk on his face. He’s enjoying this, he knows he’s been making you squirm for days, and is testing your patience.

“Was alright. I had a lot to think about,” you reply, and Joel snorts a tiny chuckle out.

“I’ll bet,” he replies, and before you can even return the favor to ask him about his weekend, his hand is around the mug handle and he’s leaving the room.

He doesn’t interact with you for the rest of the day.

You’re practically fuming as you walk to your car after work, not having heard much else from Joel other than the things he was telling everyone in your vicinity, from upcoming projects to a few housekeeping items he needed done around the office this week. The only respite you’d had was when his eyes lingered slightly on you, legs crossed and stretching out gracefully from your short dress. His gaze had raked over your body in a quick, ravenous glance, and that one look could’ve eaten you alive with how much power was behind it. Only a flash of the man you’d met that night, that was all you got for now.

You don’t know what to do from here. Are you supposed to wait for another note? Or did your last secret rendezvous mean that it was free game to pay him a visit any time you wanted as well? You had a feeling the former was more his style, wanting to be in control, to have the upper hand here. You sigh as you grip the wheel on the way home, knowing there isn’t exactly a handbook for the perfect way to have a secret affair with your boss.

When Wednesday comes around, with Tuesday having had almost the same outcome, you’re practically seething, ready to confront him privately and figure out just what the hell is going on in that twisted mind of his. If he likes playing games, fine, you’d just like to at least be clued into them so you can get some enjoyment from the chase of it all.

Your phone pings in the middle of the workday, and your lips part in shock as you glance down at the screen and see words that make the blood rush inside your ears and your heart jump. A new message from Joel Miller. You’d completely forgotten you’d even saved his number on your first day of work, him claiming he wanted every employee to have it for emergencies. And you have to wonder if what he messaged you for truly was, well, an emergency, just of a different nature. A sly smile creeps onto your lips as you read the words on your screen.

Joel Miller: Feeling awful stressed today. Meeting after fuckin meeting. Think you could help me out with that, babydoll?

Your fingers go flying, not caring just how desperately quick you’re texting him back, all the anger brewing inside of you at him quickly forgotten.

You: Whatever you need from me boss ;)

Joel Miller: How about some pretty photos of you to ease my pain

You swallow hard, sneaking off the bathroom, your heartbeat pounding against your chest as if every single person in this office can read your mind and knows what you’re about to do. You lock yourself inside a stall and try to think quickly of what Joel would want to see from you.

You pull the backside of your dress up, showing off the curve of your ass adorned by a cheeky, red lace set of panties and try to angle your phone in a way that will capture the sexy essence you’re going for, feeling absolutely ridiculous with the way you’re contorting your body to try to get the shot. Next, you put a foot up on the toilet seat and try to get an upskirt shot, placing your free hand dangerously close to your pussy, letting the fingers rest comfortably, spread out along your thigh teasingly.

Fuck. Yes. You’re surprised at just how well the photos turned out given your time constraint and shaky hands. You’ve taken a few photos like this before, but something about these, knowing they’re going to Joel, your heart flutters with anticipation as you queue them up with a message for him.

You: Hope these help until you can get the real thing

When you exit the stall with a shaky breath and return to your desk, he hasn’t answered yet, and you assume with good intentions that he’s just in a meeting, not ignoring your absolutely perfect nudes you’ve sent over.

You tap your foot impatiently, trying to get some work done, when your phone lights up next to you, alerting you to a message.

Joel Miller: So dirty baby. Need to get my hands on that perfect ass

You decide on a bold whim to leave him hanging, let him stew without a response from you to egg him on, only the photos.

Joel’s appearance in the office later that evening shows just how long he felt his day was - his tie askew, the knot partially pulled down to give his neck some room to breathe, and hair mussed from running his hands through it too many times. In some perverted little way, you find the sight of him looking so rough exciting. The more stressed Joel is, the more likely he’ll need to lean on you tonight. When your life got this pathetic, you don’t know, but you have a feeling you could trace it back to the first time you laid eyes on Joel Miller.

He walks through the space, saying quick goodnights to a few of his employees that are finishing up for the day, claiming he forgot something at the office when he went out for his meetings earlier. As he reaches to pass your desk, your heart jumps into your throat, and suddenly it’s so dry you can barely swallow.

An imperceptible nod. That’s all he gives you when he passes, but it says everything you need to know. He needs you tonight.

You wriggle in your seat, the dull ache of arousal coming to your attention between your legs as you start to anticipate Joel’s advances being focused on you in just a few short moments. You impatiently wait out everyone else in the office, practically jumping out of your chair at the last of your coworker’s departures.

Shoulders back. Deep breath. Exude confidence.

The silent chant moves through your thoughts as you approach Joel’s office door and poke your head in the small space where the door was left cracked, slowly pushing it open as you enter. The sight that awaits you, Joel sitting back in his office chair, legs spread, as if inviting you to his lap, makes your knees want to quake.

He hasn’t said a word yet, so you choose not to either, taking careful, bordering on feline-like steps around his desk to where he sits. You swing your leg over him delicately, spreading yourself wide as you settle onto his lap, straddling him. He instantly groans at the pressure of your warm body on him, as if that was all he needed in the world to satisfy him.

“Dressed up today, huh? I kinda like it,” you say, wrapping your fingers around the tie and pulling slightly, nudging his head a bit closer to yours.

“Client meetings for a big project, hate wearin’ this shit,” he grumbles. He reaches up to loosen his tie and pull it off over his head, tossing it on the floor next to his chair.

His lips find your neck, but he’s more reserved today, already knowing he has you right where he wants you. His lips graze the skin lightly, sending shiver after shiver of goosebumps over your body. Playful light kisses press onto the sensitive skin over and over, Joel’s tongue flicking out every so often to taste you even deeper.

“Smell so fuckin’ good, all a man needs after a day like mine, swear,” he says gruffly, barely pulling off of your neck, taking a deep breath of the perfume you’d put on just for him, every single day since you started working here.

“You can talk to me, y’know. What I’m here for, all to take care of you. I’m whatever you need,” you say huskily, already lost in all the touch he’s delivering. He simply lets out a small hum of satisfaction, running his large, rough hands along your back, feeling the curve of it as you arch into his touch.

“That make you all wet, babydoll? Wantin’ that pussy to get all used up by me when I need you?” His lips are on you the second his sentence finished, sucking on your neck lightly before tracing up to your earlobe and lightly taking it between his lips.

“Yes, Mr. Miller,” you reply, barely a hushed whisper. You mewl quietly at his lips’ various movements on you, drawing your hips down onto his lap, trying to find any sense of relief. The dull ache from earlier has been replaced quickly with a full on throbbing on your sensitive clit, making you feel wild with need for him.

“Mmm, so polite, sweetheart. Weren’t so polite earlier, were you? Takin’ naughty photos in the bathroom for me.”

You blush under his words and his gaze, unable to control the slightly burning creeping onto your cheeks at the thought of you taking those photos for him earlier. It had felt wrong, contorting and perching yourself just right to get a photo to help fulfill his little fantasies, and you loved every minute of it.

“Liked what you saw?” you ask, your hips starting to grind absentmindedly against his center.

“Y’know I did,” he says, hands sliding to your ass, pulling you closer so that your movements get more friction. You can feel yourself seeping through your panties already, probably about to soak the front of him at any moment. “Such a tease, those little photos, thought ‘bout ‘em all day.”

“What did you think about, huh? What got you through the day?” you whisper melodically in his ear, trying to be the soothing presence for him that you desire so badly to be.

Joel chuckles, deep and throaty. “Little slut, want to hear me talk about how I love your pussy so bad, don’t you? Thought about it all fuckin’ day, could barely hear a word in those damn meetings.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you purr, hips grinding a little harder, and you let out a breathy sound. You pinch your lips together, suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed at just how shamelessly you’re moving yourself against him. At the least you’re comforted by the fact that you can feel his hard length straining against his jeans as you rub against him, meaning he’s enjoying this just as much.

“Go on, don’t be shy,” Joel says, looking down in between you at the way you’re moving on him. “Kept you waiting a long time, didn’t I, babydoll? Needin’ this cock again so badly.”

You nod as you look at him with heady eyes starting to glaze over with need. “Thought you didn’t need me anymore. Wanted to do my good little job for you.” You whine with a pout, your voice is a low pitched hush, head buried in his shoulder as you continue to get yourself off.

“Doin’ so good, waitin’ on me every moment in case I need ya,” Joel says, and you’re embarrassingly close to climaxing, your soaked panties rubbing perfectly against your clit as you grind on his jeans, the firmness of his cock pressing deliciously against your folds.

“I’m- I’m close…” you whimper.

Joel chuckles again, clearly amused at just how easy it is for you to lose yourself to him. His hands move from where they’ve been kneading your ass through your dress to your hips, and he grips tightly, lifting you up. Your hips grind out into nothing, and you groan loudly at the unexpected interruption in your quickly approaching bliss.

“N-no, Mr. Miller, I- please -” Your entire body shudders down with the loss of the coming climax, your insides feeling like they’re clawing to get the sensation out, but with nothing there to edge it forward, you’re lost. You sigh in desperation, reaching to grip his shoulders and pull yourself back down.

“Nuh-uh, sugar,” Joel tuts with a devious glint in his eye. “Playin’ with you will make me feel better, isn’t that what you want?”

Your entire body shakes as you nod yes, and Joel smirks happily. “Good girl,” he says, “Now what to do with you…” He looks you over, his eyes roaming over your tits now starting to spill out of the top of your dress with the way you’d been rubbing against him, moving the fabric.

“You like dressin’ like a little whore for me, don’t you, havin’ your tits out and everything,” he says, releasing your hips to palm both of them, squeezing them upwards, testing the weight in his hands.

“Want to give you something fun to look at at work,” you say with a little giggle, which Joel returns with his own gruff chuckle.

“Y’sure do,” he concludes, tearing the dress down to reveal your chest to him, and he hisses through his teeth, seeing your bare tits bounce out at him.

“Knew you’d look so perfect,” he practically growls out, immediately going for one of your nipples, rolling it between his fingers. You let out a gasp, your hips defying all logic and moving of their own accord, grinding down on him again as your back arches.

“Lemme taste you, that’ll make daddy feel so much better,” Joel says, eyes transfixed on the way he’s playing with your nipples and your body’s eager reactions to it. You’re not even sure he realizes the new shift in dynamic he’s just introduced, the words flowing out of him so naturally.

“Yes, daddy, taste me, taste me,” you say, echoing him without a second thought. You weren’t sure where it came from, but whatever gets Joel off seems to get you off, if you’re honest. Your cunt is aching beyond control now, the throbbing bordering on painful now, your breath hitching at the thought of his tongue licking the increasingly sensitive spot.

“Be good and get on up there, then,” Joel commands, nodding towards the desk. You sit on the edge, legs dangling and spreading open for him. “All the way back,” Joel corrects, grabbing at your hips and scooting you himself, then placing a hand on your chest and pushing back, so that you eventually end up laying down completely. Joel hovers over you, playing with the hem of your dress, slowly pulling it up.

You writhe and wriggle, strangled little cries coming out of your mouth, unable to take the anticipation anymore.

“Joel…” you whine.

“Haven't even started yet and you’re callin’ my name,” he laughs before his fingers reach the band of your underwear, sliding a finger along it. You cry out again when his finger brushes further down on your mound. You want to slam your fists onto the desk in pure desire-fueled frustration, but you refrain, showing Joel how eager you are by movements and twists of your hips.

When he finally pulls your panties down, the cool air touching your bare sex, you sigh a bit of relief at the coming pleasure.

“Didn’t get to ‘preciate this ‘nuff the last time, sugar,” Joel muses. “Bet you taste so sweet too… fuckin’ divine…” One of his fingers swipes through your slit and you gasp, peering up at him as you watch him slide it through several times to your entrance, gathering as much slickness as he can. He slides the finger into his mouth, tasting it almost pornographically, groaning in pleasure before popping it out.

“Was right, y’know. Ever tasted yourself, babydoll?” Joel asks with an enticing lick of his lips, like he needs to clean every bit of you off that he can.

“N-no, I haven’t,” you answer, too stunned by his behavior and your distractingly aching pussy to think of anything witty to retort.

“Oh, you’re missin’ out,” he coos before repeating the same motions on your pussy, every time he brushes the sensitive bud of your clit it’s own tiny form of torture. He leans over your body, his shiny, slick finger reaching towards your mouth.

“Don’t make me hav’ta ask,” he warns, and you sit up on your elbows and part your lips alluringly, allowing his finger to slide right in. You suck hard with a swirl of your tongue, hoping it emulates the way your mouth had felt on his cock just a few days ago. It seems to do the trick, Joel’s smile growing into a devious smirk as he groans a little.

“This fuckin’ mouth,” he says with a shake of his head, letting his finger linger a few moments longer, pumping it in and out of your mouth in slow strokes. “Such a pretty mouth, but does such dirty things for me, doesn’t it?”

You nod for him before Joel pulls his finger out of your mouth and moves back to position himself between your legs.

“Legs up, just like that,” Joel says, manually lifting your legs so that your knees are bent with your feet flat on the desk, legs immediately falling open for him. He takes a long pause to look at your completely exposed cunt, a burning look of desire in his eyes.

“Poor baby, ain’t ya? So wet and ready with no cock inside ya to ease the pain. You achin’ for daddy’s cock, sugar?” Joel delivers a swift slap to your pussy that sends your hips lurching forward for a moment before he laughs.

Asshole, you think with a little rush of desire. But this absolute asshole is about to make you come, so you decide against saying anything of the sort.

“Mhm,” you say instead. “Need you to use me and fuck yourself better, daddy.” Joel nearly snarls at the nickname leaving your mouth, starting to undo his belt as he lowers his head in between your legs. One hand is gripping onto your thigh while the other steadily works to free his cock from his pants, palming it tightly as his mouth licks a long strip up your pussy. His fingers dip inside of you gathering up your arousal before he brings it down to his cock, spreading it along the lengthy shaft. He moans into your cunt as he licks, beginning to stroke himself as he tastes you.

You’ve never been treated like this before, like Joel is a man hungry for his last meal as he ravenously slurps and licks up every bit of arousal that keeps pouring out for him. His enthusiastic yet gruff reactions and noises start a vicious cycle - you’re so turned on by it that you’re getting impossibly wet, and in turn, Joel laps it up like he’s never tasted anything better in his life. It brings you close to the brink faster than you’d expected, another high quickly building low in your stomach. The tingling sensation starts to overtake every one of your senses and you let out a moan low and deep from your throat.

“Oh, Joel, p-please, I’m so close…” you murmur, your head rolling wildly on the desk as his tongue flicks on your clit and then sucks for a few pulses. “Daddy…” you whimper, and the guttural noise he makes is indescribable before he pulls off of you completely. You cry out, feeling tears start to form in your eyes at the injustice he’s been serving on your pussy tonight.

“Let daddy play with you a bit, it’s half the fun,” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice, and it instantly adds to your frustration just how much he’s getting off on this. The sound of his hand slapping against his own flesh comes and goes, and he seems to be bringing himself close to climaxing along with you.

He brings you back to the edge again moments later with just the lightest flicks of his tongue right on your clit, and as he senses your entire body tensing he stops again, leaving a desperate moan to die out in your throat as you’d nearly reached the throes of ecstasy again.

“Please… I’m begging you, it’s too much, Joel,” you whine. Your whole body is starting to tremble, your hips squirming along the surface of your desk from the throbbing of your swollen, aching heat just wanting him to give you release.

“Little longer, babydoll, be a good girl and keep begging me,” Joel replies.

“Please, let me come, I’ll do anything,” you say, your frown deepening despite the way that you’re also getting off on this, maybe just as much as him. You’ve never had someone give you so much careful, specialized attention like this - taking the time to make you feel this insanely turned on and desperate for them.

Joel puts his face between your legs again while you let whispers of your continued begging along with his name pass your lips over and over until he edges you one more time and you nearly scream, letting out a choked back moan for him instead.

“Music to my ears,” Joel chuckles, and you breathe heavily, then peer down at him with your slick covering his face from the way he’s been indulging himself repeatedly on your pussy and you feel yourself clenching, nearly reaching your climax from the sight of him like that alone.

You nearly feel like passing out at this point, your breathing so erratic and body so overstimulated that you nearly can’t take it anymore when Joel returns to his former position, but this time inserting two fingers, stretching you as he scissors them apart while his tongue works on your clit. You cry out a furious whimper, your body bordering on madness as you feel Joel push deep inside of you with his fingers before pressing right on the perfect, spongy part inside that has your eyes rolling back.

“H-holy shit,” you blurt out, the tension coiling deep in your belly quickly as Joel presses over and over while he works his tongue on your abused clit. His other hand pushes down low on your belly, only increasing the sensation of everything and you’re panting, wild, incorrigible sounds flying out of your mouth.

“Don’t stop, please, please, don’t… let me come this time, I can’t take it anymore,” you manage to say as your body tumbles towards a cliff, your insides clawing for release and escape from this heavenly torture he’s put putting you through. Joel doesn’t stop this time, but intensifies everything - his fingers, his mouth, his warm, large palm pushing down on the bottom of your stomach.

You scream over and over, barely registering the sheer volume of the sound leaving your mouth as you gush and spasm onto him, the tether to reality snapping as you're transported to another place for a few moments, your vision going dark as you squeeze your eyes shut in pure bliss. You’re coming so hard that it seems like it’s never ending, sloppy, wet noises filling the room along with your little sobs. A sudden gush escapes you in the midst of everything, and when you finally come down, only then do you realize the reason everything felt so unreal for a moment, so much.

You can feel the excess wetness on your dress, all over the desk underneath you, and you nearly die with embarrassment at how much of a mess you’ve made because of this man, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind one bit, sliding you forward and wrapping his arms underneath your back, sitting you up and pulling you to your feet. You sway dazedly in your current state, practically useless to speak, think, or move, but Joel seems to be covering those bases for the two of you.

He swings your body in his grip, slamming your back against a nearby tall cabinet full of files that you’d spend hours helping organize, but you tear your mind away from the droll thought and back to Joel, whose cock is now pressing against your slick folds as he lifts one of your legs and hooks under your knee, holding it up.

“Fuckin’ filthy girl for me aren’t you? Squirting all over the place… like the way I make you come, don’t you?”

“Fuck yes, I do. S-so- so good,” you reply, hips bucking forward towards his cock despite the oversensitivity now raging there. He pushes in with one swift stroke, burying himself deep and you yelp at the sudden stretch. You’ve been warmed up plenty, but the sheer size of Joel is still enough to cause a sharp moment of discomfort before your body adjusts.

“I know, c’mon babydoll, you can take it. Want to make me feel good, don’t you?” Joel coos, his voice a little gentler now, urging you along.

You nod enthusiastically for him, grinding forward to take the last bit of him into you until he’s fully seated. He grins wildly, his eyes flashing intensely as he starts to fuck you in earnest, snapping his hips into yours quickly.

“That’s a good girl for me,” he praises as you continue to take his cock over and over, and you’re so full, you can feel everything - him throbbing against your walls as he slides in and out.

“So f-fucking full of you, Joel,” you murmur as you flutter your eyes.

“That’s right, babydoll, y’like my big cock using your little pussy, like it when I fill you up,” he grunts as his breath starts wavering more. Your own body is trembling, another climax building right where Joel’s cock is slamming into you each time he pushes in again.

“Yes, Joel, fill me up today. Don’t pull out,” you beg.

Joel groans loudly, and you feel a rush of satisfaction at the way your words hold so much power over him. You can feel how you drive him wild, in and out of your own private world in his office. The way he steals glances at you, ogles your short skirts and dresses, the cleavage that you show for him, down to right now, when simply telling him to come inside of you has him practically spasming.

“Want me to fill you up with daddy’s come, that it? Like the little slut for me you are,” Joel retorts, his movements more sporadic now as he chases his own climax.

“Only if it’ll help your day get better, Mr. Miller,” you tease with eyelashes fluttering, and Joel lets out a strangled little chuckle, his eyes completely glazed over with lust as you look into them.

“Fuckin’ kiddin’ me, sugar, ‘course it would,” he says simply, letting out a little moan as he feels you squeeze around him slightly as he brushes against your walls over and over.

“Then do it, fill me up, daddy,” you say, and Joel doesn’t need to hear anything more, can’t hear anything more as he thrusts deeply into you and you gasp, feeling him come and fill you up so deeply. You milk every bit of it out of him, feeling your own climax overtake you unexpectedly at the pure power trip you’ve gotten from making him come this hard. You shudder into his cock still inside of you, your own white creaminess coating his shaft along with his cum and you let out a breathy moan at the sight of it pulling out of you a few moments later.

“Sure made a mess, bad little girl,” Joel sucks his tongue between his teeth a few times, chastising you. “Half a mind to make you clean all this up.” He shakes his head as he steps away, but you just smile bashfully at him, still leaning against the cabinet, dripping pussy and tits still falling out of your dress.

“Really gonna ask that from me after all I did for you tonight, baby?” you ask him with a saccharine smile, your voice dripping honey like off your tongue.

“Lookin’ like that? No way in hell. You just stand there pretty and let me get a good look at ya all fucked out like that f’me,” Joel replies, tucking himself back into his pants.

You spy your underwear on the ground, and as Joel follows your eyeline he swipes them off the floor, but tucks them in his back pocket again instead of handing them over to you. After the second time, you can see this is one of his things, and take a mental note to buy some more panties.

“Need to do this more often, don’t we?” Joel asks as he settles back into his office chair, groaning a little as he goes down.

“Absolutely,” you grin.

#barking ferally for boss!joel this has turned into an obsession my friends #fic: new addiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #fic: boss!joel

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merakiui · 1 month

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MERA IVE BEEN HAVING THIS THOUGHT AND I THINK YOURE THE RIGHT PERSON TO SHARE IT WITH BC ITS SO PERFECT FOR THE TWEELS 😭

A long time ago, back when i was a teenager and still a wattpad girly, I read this one really good story called "Family Comes First" about a family of cannibals that lives in the middle of nowhere. They only keep boy children who are born, no daughters. Whenever a boy turns a certain age (I think 21 but I cant really rmbr), the father goes out to the nearest city, interviews girls under the guise of offering them a job, and kidnaps the best one as a birthday gift and bride. The mother-in-law teaches the new girl how to be a good wife (cleaning, cooking that strange meat, etc.), and the husband is otherwise responsible for his wife, to the point of selecting and laying out her clothing every morning. The ultimate honour is to birth a son, and so the husbands are CONSTANTLY trying to get their wives knocked up. I can't help but imagine Jade and Floyd in a story like this, it suits them perfectlyyyyy

In the book, one of the boys ended up catching feelings for brother's wife (the main character) instead of his own, and it causes fights serious drama in the family. This works so well with the recent ideas about Jade stealing Floyd's cute little wifey except it would be even better for them because they're twins and Jade can pull all his nasty tricks 😭 maybe when she finally gets knocked up with a son, they won't know who it belongs to, because he looks just like his daddy, but the potential daddies look the sammmeee OTZ

Oh oh oh and imagine if reader tries to escape and the family decides to let her try. Let her have fun. Hell, they even join in on the fun. She was blindfolded when they brought her and she's never been out of the house before, so she doesn't know her way around the woods, whereas the men in this family have been hunting humans for sport and food in these woods for generations. Now she's lost in the dark forest with daddy leech and the tweels rapidly closing in on her. She's going to be taught a lesson after they drag her home. After all, she lost the game, and losers never get rewards >_<

OHHH!!! Omg that concept is perfect for the tweels!!!! And they would absolutely draw out the chase in the forest just to scare you even more. Maybe then, after spending an entire day and night being hunted like a wild animal, you'll learn your home is with them. There's no point in running from your family, after all.

Hehe running from the three of them and you injure yourself, so now you're even more panicked because what if they can smell the cut on your leg? What if they can hear your pained grunts as you drag yourself along, limping through the forest? >_< omg and it doesn't matter who finds you; it's going to be frightening either way. Floyd who drags you out of your hiding place by the ankles, or Jade who stands over you as he patiently waits for you to take notice of him. Or Papa Leech wrapping you up in big, strong, scarred arms to carry you back to the house. Maybe you're kicking and screaming all the way, and it's useless to struggle because there's no one else out here for stretches. Just you and your family, who care so very much for you. You should be grateful! Mr. Leech's sons fight over you to be named your husband. Aren't you lucky to have the two of them? Most of all, aren't you lucky you're alive and not on their murderous menu?

AAAAAA and Papa Leech picks your clothes for you going forwards! They were far too patient and lenient with you before, far too forgiving. Now you're living under a new schedule, a fresh set of rules. Your clothes are selected for you, and your meals are prepared in advance (gone are the days in which you were given choices; each meal is healthy and has properties meant to boost your fertility). When you aren't learning to be the perfect housewife, you're getting bent over every possible surface and bred by the twins. Or if the twins can't behave, then maybe Papa Leech ought to knock you up instead........... thinking thoughts.

In conclusion, the entire family is crazy and you're stuck with them forever. orz

#twisted chit chat

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aaizawashouta · 6 months

Text

Wild

pairing: kiba x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: he's got your sent memorized. it's burned into his senses, his soul. there is no escaping him.

warnings: smut (18+, minors dni), softdom!kiba, p in v, cream pie

a/n: i had an idea. i liked it. this came out so much softer than i imagined. so here it is. enjoy!

Run.

It wakes you from your sleep. Drenched in sweat but still freezing, gooseflesh rising on your skin. It digs its nails into your consciousness. The only thing that makes sense is your sense of self preservation. You know better than to ignore your gut feeling — that fight or flight instinct. It’s late, no one sees you and your hurried steps leaving your home. Heavy breathing drowned out by the roaring storm around you. It’s your only saving grace, maybe enough to drown out your scent. You're dressed in nothing but a tank top and shorts, the wind whips your hair around your face angrily.

You disappear in the forest, holding your breath as if that would save you. But he’s got your scent memorized. It’s burned into his senses, his very soul. There is no escaping him. Kiba always finds you.

There is no time out here. You don’t know how long you’ve got until he’s on you. There’s no light, barely even a sliver of the moon. A hiss is ripped from you when branches start to tear at your skin. That isn’t good. Fuck. You can’t focus on anything other than moving forward. Breath choppy, hands pushing brush and tree branches out of the way. You're zigzagging, it’s exhausting, but it’ll keep him on his toes. The rain stings, pelting down on your exposed skin.

A grumble comes from beside you, hiding in the dense forest. Your heart drops into your stomach. There’s no way. You don’t think you’ll make it out alive this time. Lightning flashes and you see him — the giant beast beside you. Relief and dread fills you. Akamaru keeps pace with you, never letting you out of his sight. He’s been staying with you more now that he’s getting older. Or maybe it’s because Kiba feels better knowing that he’s there watching over you. Whatever it is, it’s turned Akamaru into your new best friend. Your shadow if only because you also belong to Kiba.

Akamaru grumbles again, breaking away from you. You whimper as you watch him. Would he lead Kiba straight to you? That’d ruin the game, you think. That’s what this is — a game. There are moments you have to remind yourself of that. He’s the predator and you're the prey, but he’d die before he’d ever hurt you. This was your idea after all.

“It’s okay if you run, bunny. It’s the thrill of the hunt that makes me crave you. Just remember, once I find you, your little game is over.”

So preoccupied with Akamaru and the game, you slip in the mud, your shin shredding itself on a jagged boulder. The scent of your blood was going to drive him mad. How can you possibly get away in these conditions? Cursing under your breath, you hobble along, eyes roaming around you. It’s in the air — even with the storm. The forest has gone silent.

He’s here.

Stay calm. Controlling your breathing you creep into a dense area, somewhere safe to hide for now. You would have missed it if you hadn't fallen. At least there was that to be thankful for.

“Little bunny rabbit goes hop, hop, hop.”

It’s sickening how his voice echoes around you. Hidden in the dark, dancing with the rain. Your blood is warm against your rain soaked skin as it runs down your leg. You have to bite back a whimper as your eyes rake through the dark. He’s baiting you, waiting for you to fall for the false sense of safety. As if you honestly believe he isn’t going to pounce on you at any moment. Horror burns in your stomach, heat running through your body. Numb limbs slowly turn to shadowy forest.

You see his eyes before anything else. How they shimmer and shine with desire and amusement. He’s laughing at you. You watch as that familiar smirk grows and stretches across his mouth. When he emerges from the trees, you forget your fear and bristle with irritation. Kiba takes his sweet time as he approaches you, probably waiting to see if you’ll dart like the scared bunny you are. He kneels down to your level, nose twitching before his eyes flash to your legs. You don’t miss the way the muscle in his jaw ticks at the sight of your blood.

His brows furrow when he reaches for you, and you flinch. “Are you afraid of the big, bad wolf?”

You huff. “When have I ever been afraid of you, Kiba?”

“You don’t have to lie. I can smell it on you, bunny.” He sighs, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “You ready to head home?”

“How far did I make it?”

His smirk is back. “Not even a mile.”

Kiba kisses your pout before picking you up and hoisting you onto his back. You know the real reason he wants to go home is because you’re bleeding. He’s always the one to indulge you. Especially when you’re feeling feisty, wanting to test out his senses. So you sigh, hitching a ride on his back, arms dangling over his shoulders. Warm hands hold you by your thighs, giving you a comforting squeeze every now and then.

You look down when a sudden brush is felt against your calf. Akamaru is at your side, tongue darting out to lick your leg. “You better not have sold me out.”

“He didn’t.”

You don’t know whether to laugh at the annoyance in Kiba’s tone.

The rain has stopped by the time you make it home. Now you're just wet, clothes sticking to you uncomfortably. You swallow, fingers digging into Kiba’s shirt as the warmth of your blood trails down your leg. It’s not until he walks you into the comfort of your home, sitting you on the kitchen counter that you look at the mess the forest made of you. A warm hand wrapping gently around your ankle makes you hiss. Kiba tsks under his breath, thumb spreading the blood along your calf that still hasn’t stopped.

“You’re fucking freezing, bunny.” His jaw tenses as he meets your wide eyes.

You hold his stare, your cheeks burning as you wet your bottom lip nervously. Your heart stumbles as the words fall from your lips in a bated, breathless whisper. "Then warm me up."

His brows raise, though you catch the dim flare in his eyes at the insinuation dripping from your comment. Strip me down, warm me up. He grabs your chin, tilting your head until your lips are inches from his. His thumb brushes over your lips once before his eyes catch your, searching curiously before settling on your mouth again as his thumb makes another lazy pass.

“Don’t want blood all over the bed.”

“Like that’s stopped you before.”

God, where is this coming from? Was it the chase? Adrenaline is still pouring through you. Every time you move electricity sparks at your fingertips, burning your nerves. It makes you pulse, makes you ache. You have to keep yourself from snapping your legs shut, to stop from rutting like a bitch in heat on the goddamn counter.

When he sighs deeply, your heart skips.

"Is that a yes?" You can hear the smile in your voice, and his only answer is a low groan in the back of his throat before pulling your lips to his. Breaking the kiss as quick he came, he pushes you onto your back before you can even thread your fingers through his hair. The cold, hard counter beneath you is a stark contrast to the calloused fingers cupping the side of your throat as his thumb traces the delicate line of your jaw. It's a gentle caress, and you smile at the tenderness of it, especially when you playfully nip at his lip. His returning bite isn't as gentle, and it sends an excited thrill through you.

"Never thought I'd see you play dirty, bunny rabbit." He seems amused, impressed with your scandalous negotiating skills.

"I dunno," you admit with a smile against his lips. “Might be the wild finally calling to me.”

His cheek twitches, kissing you deeper before pulling back to run his thumb across your bottom lip. "The wild." He repeats it like he wants to taste it, like he wants to remember the feel of it on his tongue. Deep-seated satisfaction flashes in his eyes as he says, "It looks good on you."

Heat climbs up your neck and pools in your cheeks, and he grins at the sight before kissing you deeply, sliding his tongue into your mouth with a low growl. It's an approving sound. One that you've found yourself searching for every time you’re alone, every time you’re tangled up like this. Your blood thrums hotter, heart careening in your chest.

The wild feels good — like fresh fallen rain on your skin, a calloused hand on your throat. Smoke and shadow and dark starry nights. It's intoxicating. Heady. Addicting.

And you can't seem to get enough of it.

You run your hands down his back, fingers tugging at the material clinging to his skin. You huff, nails scraping gently as his muscles shift beneath your touch. Kiba only pulls away far enough to help you take it off, the offending material making a plopping sound as it hits the floor. His tongue collides with yours, dominating and all-encompassing, and the heat building between your thighs flares.

"Bunny." His voice is throaty and rough, but his murmur is gentle against your lips. You smile into the kiss, realizing how fitting that is for him — roughly gentle. When he groans your name as you rock your hips against him, you can't help the smallest moan that echoes in the back of your throat at the sound. You've heard him say your name so many times now, in so many variations, but here, right now, with one hand sliding up your stomach, fingers splayed wide and the other gripping the thigh you have wrapped around his waist, this might be your favorite.

"Hmm?" You hum in response, brushing your tongue against his.

His thumb brushes over your pulse in the dip of your throat before sliding down to your chest. Your shaky inhale echoes between you as he palms your breast and skims a rough thumb over your nipple that’s peaking through your soaked shirt. The wet air bites the sensitive bud, but it's soothed every time his thumb makes a slow, teasing pass. Ice and fire, you’re drowning in both, and the contrast is sending your nerves into a frenzy. You arch your back, silently pleading for more.

His lips leave yours, heavy hands all but ripping your shirt off only to dip down to nip and suck your other nipple before rising back to your ear. His words are a whispered taunt that douses your nerves in kerosene, his thumb the lit match that sends your body up in flames. "Tell me what you want, bunny."

Your stomach tightens. You're practically naked under this man, silently pleading for him to give you an orgasm, but the thought of asking for it, saying it out loud, has the air in your lungs solidifying into ice. You thread your fingers in his hair and urge his lips back to yours, and he obliges with a ghost of a smile as you kiss him deeply, rocking your hips against his pointedly. Touch me! I want you to touch me!

A flicker of heat climbs your spine as his hand skims down your stomach, and you moan into his mouth as he slips his hand into your shorts. His teeth dig into your lip with a groan when he finds you with no panties. His thumb grazes your clit before he slides a finger into you, and the pressure between your thighs nearly explodes at the touch. He moves lazily inside you, his thumb barely brushing your clit with each slow thrust of his hand. It's enough to build the pressure in your stomach slowly, but as you rock your hips, trying to add more friction, your heart sinks at the realization that it's not enough. And he knows it.

He has you hanging by a thread.

A frustrated groan vibrates in your throat, and that ghost of a smile grows.

"Kiba." It's a breathless complaint, a begrudging plea. "Please."

"Please, what?" His voice is low against your lips, dripping with satisfaction as he nips at your jaw. "Tell me what you want, bunny."

He offers you one gloriously rough pass of his thumb over your clit as incentive, and it shatters your mind into a million desperate pieces.

"Touch me, please," you beg, unable to bite back your restless moan. It's loud enough to echo around the house, loud enough to usually set your cheeks on fire, but you're too consumed by the heat thrumming through your veins to even care. You tighten your grip on his hair and whisper a desperate, breathy plea against his lips. "Kiba, please, please just touch me; make me come."

His thumb and finger instantly find a much rougher pressure and pace, and your eyes widen, back arching at the instant rush of pleasure that shoots through you.

"Just like that," he groans against your throat. "Fuck, I'd give you anything if you asked me just like that." He captures your lips again, nipping at your lip before sliding his tongue into your mouth, and when he curls his finger, hitting the spot deep inside, the pressure in your stomach hits its peak, and your breath freezes in your throat as your orgasm surges through you.

You're on fire, engulfed in a delicious, mind-shattering flame, burning right here beneath him. An image of a moth going up in flames flashes in your mind, and you can't help but smile at the morbid thought that if this is how you’re destined to die, it's not such a bad way to go.

Death by fire — what an appropriate demise for something wild.

Opening your eyes, your heart races when you meet his molten gaze. Your body is searing, scorching, fiending for him.

Almost as much as your heart is.

You're completely, stupidly, madly in love with him. Not a sweet school girl crush. Not a lust-driven infatuation. Not a rose-colored fantasy. You have fallen for Kiba in ways you didn't even know were possible. You've fallen for the warmth of his lips on the shell of your ear as he whispers salacious sweet nothings. You’ve fallen for the feel of his cheeks pulling up into a broad smile as you cup his face, your thumbs sweeping slowly over his stubble-lined jaw. You’ve fallen for him in the quiet moments, the ones shared between you in the calm of the night, under the sunset sky, or where everything other than the two of you seems to melt away into nothing more than smoke and shadow. But you’ve also fallen for him in the loud moments — the heart-racing, lung-bursting moments, the ones that remind you of what it means to feel alive. You’ve fallen for this man's stubborn pessimism, for his wicked mouth and sarcastic tongue. You’ve fallen for him as a whole and in pieces, in his tiny details — in the way you fall in love with nature.

He presses a kiss to your neck as you slide your hand into his hair. The flames lick at your soul as you seal your fate with a single whispered confession. "Kiba, I want more." My heart seems to stagger with my breath. "I need to feel you...everywhere...all over...inside of me."

Death by fire it is.

If you weren't burning before, you are now. You’re on fire, a white-hot cinder burning in the middle of the kitchen. His deep visceral groan against your throat only drives your pulse faster, and when he pulls back to consider you, your heart aches at the sight of him — gilded in soft moonlight, the sharp angles of his face softened.

His thumb coasts along the soft line of your jaw, but you catch the amused twitch of his brow as he murmurs, "I got you."

Your eyes flutter shut when he drags his calloused thumb down your throat and along the line of your collarbone. It's the same path his lips always take, and the ache to feel his tongue drag up your throat elicits a new rush of goosebumps that race down your chest and shake your shoulders.

Lifting your chin, he brings his lips to your but pulls away just enough for you to catch his faint smile as he murmurs, "I’ve got you, pretty bunny rabbit."

He seems to sense that you’re not breathing because he waits for you to finally take a breath before connecting your lips in a soft, unhurried kiss. Keeping his lips on yours, his hands slide down your waist to and slowly slide down your legs, pulling your shorts with them. His hand guides yours to the button on his pants before finding your hip and sliding his hand down the bare expanse of your thigh. A trail of goosebumps follows in his wake, though with the heat now pulsing through your body, you both know it has nothing to do with the water still clinging to you.

"I forget how good you are at this," you murmur against his lips.

A haughty grin flashes as he breaks the kiss to laugh. "Which part? The orgasms or undressing?" He dips his head to nip playfully at your jaw, and ypu slide his button through the loop.

"At making me feel comfortable," you correct with a smile, though the word doesn't feel exactly right, and when you tug his jeans down his you, I realize why and quietly amend, "At making me feel safe."

His grip on your thigh tightens before he leans down and brushes his lips against yours. It's a heart-stopping kiss — deeper than the soft, slow kisses and infinitely more tender. You thread your fingers through his hair, drawing him closer, and when the heat in your lower belly pulses,you wrap your legs around his hips and urge him closer.

He tugs his boxer briefs down, and you watch wide-eyed as he grasps the base of his erection and slides the condom on in one smooth motion. This is hardly the first time you’ve seen his erection, but it seems even bigger now that it's about to be inside of you.

Heart racing again, you lean back against the counter, weight resting on your elbows. His lips are warm against your skin, trailing down your neck, between the valley of your breasts, but they aren't as soft as they were before, and when he guides your legs to wrap around his hips, you’re thankful for the dominating essence of his tongue against you. The clear, silent power dynamic, the unspoken acknowledgment that he's in charge, that he's in control here. The heat between your legs rolls hotter at the thought, and when his lips brush your throat, your breath lodges in your throat as he grips your hip gently and slides into you. You squeeze your eyes shut and dig your fingers into his back, biting back the whimper caged in your throat as the initial sting of that delicious stretch that only Kiba can give you slowly eases.

Oh, God.

Deep. He's so deep. Impossibly deep inside you.

"Breathe, baby," he murmurs against your throat.

You realize that you’ve stopped breathing until you force yourself to inhale a clipped, shaky breath. He presses another kiss to your throat before bringing his lips to yours and kissing you deeply. His tongue parts your lips, and when his hips begin to move again, the sharp jolt of pain doesn't shoot through you again. Instead, you feel the ache of loss every time he pulls out — a sensation of empty, longing, burning desire.

You moan softly into the kiss, moving your hips with his. Pulses of pleasure ripple through you, and the groan that vibrates deep in his throat sends electricity down your spine. His hand slides down to grip your ass, and he guides you into a deeper, more exaggerated roll of your hips until your clit brushes against him with each thrust.

Breaking the kiss, you roll your head back as each of your heavy pants becomes a breathy moan that echoes around the sleepy house. The muscles in his back and shoulders are taut with focused, self-restrained tension. He's going slower, softer than he usually would, and when a wave of pleasure rolls up your spine that has your mouth falling open with a moan, you don't want the diluted, desaturated version of sex with him. The version you know he’s giving you because you’re hurt. You almost roll your eyes — it’s just a scraped knee. You want to be with him, to really be with him.

Digging your nails into his back, you bask in the small twinge of pain from the stretch still lacing each thrust as you roll your hips against his, desperate to feel him. "More," you moan against the shell of his ear. "Please."

With a throaty groan, he gives you exactly what you want.

More of him. In every way.

Deep, rough strokes, a calloused hand palming the side of your throat, fingers intertwined with your own, locking arm above your head, and demanding kisses that steal the breath straight from your lungs. A complete surrender of control. Complete submission to the only man you’ve ever wanted to give your body to.

His fingers tighten around yours as he kisses a trail to your neck, and when he thrusts so deep that your heart skips a beat, you wrap your free arm around his neck, pressing your lips to his ear as delirious moans slip from your lips. You barely even realize he’s mounted you on the counter, knees braced on either side of you, ass out for the world to see. You can't focus on anything. It feels so good it hurts. It feels so good your body is writhing underneath him — a frenzy of white-hot pleasure.

"Goddamn," he murmurs against your shoulder, and a new rush of heat sears your skin at the desperation laced in the curse. Your heart is a deafening drum in your ear, but your heart stumbles over itself when he whispers against your throat so quietly you can't be sure you heard him right. "Can never get enough of you. I don’t know why you think you can run, bunny. I’d find you at the end of the earth."

His whispered words send you over the edge, and your orgasm explodes deep inside, rippling through you in swells of mind-numbing pleasure. Sated, blissful warmth courses through your veins, touching your skin as if you stepped out in the midsummer sun.

His arms wrap around you as your muscles loosen, too heavy to lift from the aftershocks of the orgasm pulsing through you like gentle waves crashing on the shore, and with a thrust that sends another wave of pleasure through your body like a bolt of crackling lightning, he groans into your neck as his orgasm rocks through him.

Chest heaving against his, you smile at the feel of his clipped breath warming your throat, just above your racing pulse. Threading your fingers through the hair at his nape, you hold him closer, trying desperately to remember this moment — how his body feels against yours, spent and sated and dripping with a scalding sheen of carnal sweat.

He pulls out, and an instant pang of loss resonates through you, leaving a hollow feeling between your thighs. Although any sense of loss is swept away when he lifts his head from your neck, and you savor the sight of his deeply sated gaze that lingers on your flushed cheeks before meeting your own.

His thumb skims your cheek, and you lift your chin to bring your lips closer to his. Eyes dipping to your mouth, his cheek twitches as he leans down to murmur against your lips, "Come on wild one, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Your cheeks warm and he grins at the sight before kissing you and when he finally pulls away, his gaze lands on the floor and narrows slightly as he considers the wet clothes scattered across the kitchen floor. And you know he’s hating the idea of having to clean up. You know he won’t let you do it. He chased you through the forest, ran you down to where you bled, and fucked you. Yeah, you weren’t lifting a finger for the rest of the night.

“Hey,” you say lightly, tracing your finger along his cheekbone.

His sharp gaze catches yours, dark eyes moving gently across your face. You don’t need to say more. The thing with Kiba is he knows. He always knows. He bares his fangs at you, a light growl escaping him and there’s less than five seconds before he’s chasing you through the house to the bedroom where he tosses you into the shower.

Wild, you think.

#kiba x reader #kiba x you #kiba inuzuka x reader #kiba inuzuka x you #kiba inuzuka smut #kiba inuzuka one shot #naruto fanfiction

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quiteliterallyilliterate · 4 months

Note

I saw your post and I think to ask you for a Yandere! Wild but Imagine this, isekai! Reader doesn't know anything about him or his game, is only a confused person who doesn't know how he got to this place.

Anyway, thanks for read this and sorry for my bad English, My first lenguaje is spanish and I'm not very sure for my English.

Order up!

I genuinely really like this idea so this was a lot of fun to write.

Enjoy!~

Tw: Yandere, obsessive, mentions of murder

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Long past were the days Link would protect anyone but himself. In the aftermath of the calamity, villagers were weary of those who traversed the land and of good reason. Many who did were simply were insane with the thought of leaving their inconsequential little hamlet to see the shattered world. Hatred for fellow man ran rampant, but the crazed look in the eyes of few who’ve lost themselves to Hyrule, Link couldn’t blame people’s cautiousness. Besides, it simply wasn’t within in his best interest being a protector anymore. There wasn’t much to really speak about the issue— Zelda probably would have if she were here, but she wasn’t, so blissful silence stood. He held no love in his heart for the people of Hyrule, much as they had none for him. They turned their backs on him, and so he does similarly to them. But you… you weren’t of Hyrule. So it was only natural to him that you’d be the exception.

Sent to him by strings of blue light, you awoke confused at first. You knew nothing of the lands nor people he spoke of, and eventually reached the conclusion that, you too were out of place in the world that now was. He couldn’t simply leave you at Hateno —they were cautious to accept him, they would never accept you as you are— so, instead, he just had to keep you. He played knight once before, so had hard could it truly be. So while you attuned yourself to your reality —while still ripping away for a chance back home, one he simply couldn’t permit— all he had to do was kill what turned their blades on you. It was rhythmic and mindless. But, as it turns out, He found it oddly more enjoyable to play knight when there was someone to kiss his wounds better after busting ass so you’d be safe. In reality it was you that made it worthwhile, not the work. You’d brush his hair and braid it so it wouldn’t mat, whispering stories of your home. Stories that much resembled myths with how far they were out of his hands. Stories you spoke through tight lips as he smiled. Stories that filled his head long after you stopped speaking. He’s never been much keen on people —or were they never keen on him?— and yet he couldn’t grapple if it was normal to feel this much over your friends.

His devotion to you was rooted deep within him, stiff and unwavering. It wound through his battered heart, patching it whole. As time passed and the roots grew deeper and deeper, lodging themselves more and more, he found his line of work expand. Monsters caused a threat, sure, but that begs the question— what really is a monster? That man who was following you? No way to tell what was going through his head. But it was better you’d be safe rather than him being alive. The mean shopkeep, patronising you for not fitting into a tunic? She’d ought to be nicer now she has no tongue. Homeless man lunging at your ankle? Can’t beg if he has no hands. All in the matter of keeping you safe. Hyrule was a very, very dangerous place. But you were lucky to have the Hero at your bidding. He waited on your call, on your order. Especially since you always made it worth it in ways of food and whatnot. He’d have given you his heart unseasoned if it meant you’d give him a kiss on the cheek. He’d forge the ring if it’d mean you’d marry him. He’d build a house where no man nor monster could find it so you’d live safe. He’d kill ganon a million times over so long as he could fall into your arms afterwards. You must understand how much he loves you. The time and care he’s put in, the blood he’s spilt in your name, he loves you. So much. Too much. Too much to let you go home to your stories. Your home is with him now.

#link x reader #botw link #yandere link x reader #yan!link #botw!link xreader #lu wild #lu wild x reader

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tikvin · 2 months

Text

Durge girlies infodump ✨

Eshra

Bard+vengeance paladin (I call it "got her powers out of sheer hate". Also dialogs of those classes are most fitting for her. She's also not classic Bard tho, doesn't have instrument either)

Is one of the most uncanny looking durges, but you only notice if you look at her for more than a moment and think about it more than a minute. The more you look at her the more strange things you start to notice. The streaks on corners of her mouth with time will reveal to be a wide mouth, unhinging jaw. Hair color and eyes that are not natural for drow. Slightly longer limbs, all that.

However she's a very charismatic person and averts the attention from the details easily enough. She's cunning, knows when to observe silently and when to speak. She's not a prying type, but very perceptive of emotions of others.

Eshra is in romance w/ Astarion, and Eshra detected his lies very soon, but kept quiet about it, playing along and waiting to see where it goes.

Eshra doesn't have anything against killing, however the real joy she gets is from killing those who think they are the shit. Bringing down prideful and strong chars to pathetic death (favourably in most dishonouroful way) is quite the delight of her life. She tries to avert her urges from the unreasonable (to anyone sane) targets to someone strong. She's also smart enough to dig for reasons to kill, Kahga being the best example. Eshra had an urge to just watch the little girl die.Fotr the fist time such urge concerned her, the itch of the urge would not stop if she just ignores it, so she redirects it to someone "bad" in the room, that being Kahga. She digs for reasons to kill and does so, without even trying to make Kahga change her mind.

Eshra also at first "saved" Lae'zel only to wait and dig for a reason to kill her. Eshra attacks Minthara almost instantly, because Minthara is smart and quickly notices something isn't right with her, and Eshra feels thretened by Minthara's prying. She would prefer her to stay silent, silent for eternity.

Jericho

Wild magic sorcerer

I headcanon her to be a very masterful before the amnesia and losing the control after, requiring help of Gale to try and control it (and that's how they get married lmao). She actually might have turned a bit dumber after amnesia.

Jericho is the most determined to stop the urges and most disgusted by her deeds among my durges. She's also a bit cowardly when it comes to her past, so she doesn't pry too much into it, afraid of what she might find. She also the one to believe Emperor. She's a bit wary, but doesn't see Orpheus helping them (the mountain pass was skipped on account of lore reasons, absence of Lae'zel, cuz after reading the discs of Orpheus there's just no reason keep Emperor alive. I will be playing again with Lae'Zel present, so Jericho would free Orpheus, cuz she'd trust Lae'Zel. Which one is canon I will decide after)

After the game events she recognizes her cowardice, and now feeling much more secure in loving and peaceful environment, she does her best to research bhaalspawn and everything about it to help prevent tragedies. Also the only girlie who is a bit bummed that she must avoid having biological children, but she's dutiful enough to recognize that responsibility.

Also the softest among durges, maybe because she got hit in the head the hardest lol, the one who truly starts a completely new and different life after the incident.

Oh, and she's 100% sure Tara doesn't like her, if not hate her

Thalissa

Assasin rogue+fighter.

Very much not a real githyanki and avoids actual githyanki, while simultaneously pretending to be one when it's convenient. With her I'm planning multiple play throughs btw, current one is without Lae'Zel, other will be with her and another with her being Tav.

She's also not concerned much with her urges, or her memories ("eh, I'm a rogue, I doubt I had much to care about anyway"). Obnoxiously smart mouthed, nonchalant, sometimes unintentionally rude. "Heh, yea, I'm a swamp elf". She hides her face usually, pretending to be whatever other race people might mistake her for.

Much like Eshra, Thalissa enjoys killing those who are oh so full of themselves

But she also actually enjoys being around "goodie two shoes" characters, because she likes to poke fun and make them just a bit annoyed, also secretly hoping their "goodiness" will rub off on her a bit, to quiet down the bloodlust.

Thalissa as a Tav is still the "chill and easy going gith". A githyanki who escaped strict military life and lives in material plane, because she enjoys it way more, even if often faced with prejudice.

Thana

Monk

Very temperamental, openly rude, but not in an elegant way like drows are usually, more barbarian like actually. She might have a bit of a anger issues and it's relatively easy to set her off.

Not the smartest one, not book wise at least.

Not very concerned for cultural things either. "Blah blah blah, balance, rules, boooring, are we fighting or what?"

She is also the one who gets concerned only when her urges start targeting children, but brush them off to kid being annoying and the urge being an intrusive thought. She genuinely tries to be "the friendly drow", but the moment she hears something rude with "you're a drow" reasoning she just can't keep her tongue back, which then doesn't help her making her case lol. You get approximately 3 sentences to make her like you, cus that how long it takes for her to decide (however, in certain cases she might get mad that you don't like her and make it her mission to make you her friend)

She's also not too concerned about memory loss, she undermines her "condition" until it takes grave turn, then she's scared, but too prideful to admit it, until, yet again, it gets in dangerous area (act 2)

That would be it for now, just a bit of general info about the girlies. If you have your favorite, feel free to ask about them, I'd love to answer, I've been keeping the lore for a long time

#oc #bg3 dark urge #bg3 durge #bg3 tav #bg3 #durge oc #durge #dark urge #drow #tiefling #gith #githyanki

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paintingwhiteceilings · 10 months

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❃Seventeen’s chances of surviving a zombie apocalypse❃

a/n: soooo I wrote this for EXO and thought, well, why not do the same for svt. Anyway, enjoy!

Scoups/Seungcheol: 8/10

❀ The fists are up and he is ready to fight anyone or anything that gets too close. His physical strength will definitely get him far. At the same time, this man is also a bit, just a bit, of a scaredy-cat when it comes to horror stuff (remember him and DK in the haunted house?). In this case, it might actually help him out, keeping him on his toes constantly.

❀ He is super competitive too. If anyone lets it slip that he might not survive the apocalypse, he will make it his sole goal in life to out-apocalypse everyone around him.

❀ Then again, as the members like to remind him, he is not the youngest and perhaps doesn’t have the best endurance any more. He needs to sit down every now and then, leaving him prone to zombies.

❀ He will definitely be complaining the entire time. Somehow, he manages to make his situation sound much worse than it really is.

Jeonghan: 9/10

❀ Nothing really phases him, I feel like Jeonghan has maxed out all his stats and has, consequently, become unstoppable. He is an absolute ace and makes everyone wonder whether he was born to be in a zombie apocalypse.

❀ The only reason I am docking a point is due to this man’s constant exhaustion and love for sleep. His main motto is “Better be lazy than tired” so I wouldn’t be surprised at Jeonghan trying to find ways to shortcut the most basic of tasks. There is a slight, very tiny, chance for his master-mind plans to go awry.

❀ Once he finds himself in a dangerous situation or on the brink of being eaten, he will simply give up. Maybe life is truly easier as a zombie. At least he won’t have to constantly be on the run.

❀ Still, Jeonghan will be going through this apocalypse in the most efficient way possible, trying to find any loopholes to make his life easier and preserving his energy for those moments when he truly needs it.

Joshua 5/10

❀ Honestly, Joshua is such a wild card. He would definitely try to employ the “they can’t predict what I am doing if I don’t know what I am doing” tactic. Joshua becomes the definition of “can’t let them know your next move.”

❀ It would work half of the time. Either the zombies get so confused that he catches them off guard, or all he did was inconvenience himself further.

❀ Like, what if, instead of running away from the zombies, he would run towards them? The zombies would definitely not be expecting it but it would make it easier for them to, you know, kill him.

❀ His ideas are borderline insane, and nobody can really tell whether it is due to the apocalypse or because he is Joshua, having always been slightly out of his mind. He will definitely get someone else accidentally killed by suggesting a crazy plan. My money is on Hoshi.

Jun 4/10

❀ The reason this man has any chance of survival is because Seventeen treats him like a maknae. I am pretty sure they would sacrifice anyone and anything to keep him alive, and he kind of needs it.

❀ Jun isn’t particularly known for his amazing talent at sports. He always gets picked last in any GoSe episode containing physical games which makes his odds of surviving not too great. Like yeah, sure, he is ripped and probably has amazing endurance, but ask him to throw anything and he will miss.

❀ He is also unpredictable and doesn’t really listen to the others. They will tell him not to touch the zombies and he will see it as a challenge, “I can touch a zombie if I want to!”

❀ 10000000% the type to try and communicate with the zombies. He is convinced that if he can learn Korean, he can also learn zombie and ask them if they can become friends.

❀ (Maybe slightly unrelated, but he would be an amazing person to have around for emotional support. He would be great at comforting those feeling pessimistic, scared or upset.)

Hoshi/Soonyoung: -100000/10 or 100000/10

❀ It can go two ways with Hoshi. Either he hides somewhere and vanishes from the universe until the apocalypse has ended or he gets himself killed within the first day.

❀ Hoshi has proven that if he doesn’t want to be found, you won’t find him. Somehow, this energetic mess of a Gemini is able to turn invisible when he wants to. Depending on how bored he gets, he might be able to stick it out until the apocalypse has ended.

❀ If he doesn’t hide, he is as good as dead. He has the dangerous combination of not being scared of zombies and zero impulse control. He will be trying something stupid without a second thought and would get himself killed.

❀ He growls at the zombies because surely, they would be intimidated by him. He is a tiger, after all.

❀ His members are seriously considering putting a leash on him so that he can’t constantly run off doing god knows what. He just really hates sitting still, let him go risk his life getting provisions.

❀ Honestly, the main reason why Hoshi won’t survive for long is because he would do another impression of Seungkwan, resulting in Seungkwan ‘accidentally’ kicking him into a hoard of zombies.

Wonwoo: 10/10

❀ He has played enough games and watched enough Netflix to know what to do in the event of a zombie apocalypse. Wonwoo is prepared, well-read and ready to go. He will be the smart one that tries to find out what makes the zombies tick, taking notes on their behaviours and potential weaknesses.

❀ Wonwoo is, furthermore, so incredibly athletic. He can outrun the zombies with ease, not even breaking a sweat when he does.

❀ He also seems to possess brain cells compared to some of the members and a dose of common sense. I know that there is no normal one in Seventeen but he seems to put a lot of thought in his decision-making and seems less inclined to listen to his intrusive thoughts.

❀ Wonwoo could survive on his own, his introverted side ensuring that he doesn’t really feel the need to seek out others and depend on them. The only reason he sticks around the other members is for the drama. He loves watching the others bicker for hours, eating his popcorn as he lurks in the nearby shadows.

Woozi/Jihoon: ∞/10

❀ He has no idea that there is a zombie apocalypse going on because he hasn’t really gone outside since it started. Yeah sure, the gym he frequents has been really quiet as of late, but that is an absolute win in his book and he is not to going to jinx it by mentioning it.

❀ The world could literally be ending on the other side of his window, and this man would think that the sirens would make for an awesome sample for his song. What do you mean, sirens mean that something is going on outside?

❀ It doesn’t even matter if the other members come to check up on him or try to convince him to leave the studio, informing him the world is ending. “What do you mean it is dangerous outside, it always is dangerous outside.”

❀ He will simply survive the entire apocalypse because he had no awareness of it and it had no awareness of him. Woozi is on another level entirely.

DK/Seokmin: -1000/10

❀ An absolute mess. Somewhere laying on the ground in the feudal position up for grabs.

❀ He has been screaming since it started. The joke is on him, though. His screaming is precisely what alerts the zombies to his location and he is completely unaware of it. He finds himself in a vicious cycle where he sees a zombie, screams, more zombies appear, screams more, etc.

❀ He is ruled by his fear, trying his hardest not to be scared, but is in dire need of a hug. He needs the other members to comfort him and take the initiative because he is too scared to really do anything. He will definitely get someone else to go first; what do you mean you want him to go into that dark alleyway???

❀ He would not be able to respond well to finding himself cornered by zombies. Rather than fighting back or trying to come up with a plan, DK would most definitely just scream at them to get back and freeze.

Mingyu 1/10

❀ Technically, Mingyu should be able to survive. He is an excellent cook and can whip up any dish as long as you give him some ingredients. Also, as we have all seen, this man is mostly muscle. He should be able to hold his own in a physical fight.

❀ Not to mention that Mingyu is ridiculously smart. He can come up with a decent plan and have it work out.

❀ But his downfall is, well, literally, him falling down. He is clumsy; he will either accidentally drop something that is important to their survival and break it, or run into a tree as he is trying to make his escape.

❀ He is also not the best when it comes to the scary stuff (though I feel like he did pretty well in GoSe Ego). What do you mean he has to jump down from that ledge in order to escape the zombies? No thank you. Go into that abandoned supermarket, potentially running into zombies because he has run out of food? He would rather starve.

❀ They kind of need to keep him alive to keep Seungkwan from murdering half of the group.

The8/Minghao: 10000/10

❀ He is not scared of the zombies, the zombies are scared of him. They have interrupted his meditation sessions and are now regretting awakening his anger issues. He hasn’t been chill since the apocalypse started, and is now on a path of vengeance against those who disrupted his meditation.

❀ I know that Vicious Mockery is a D&D spell and, you know, magic, but he would be the one to make it a reality. He is able to emotionally damage the zombies, giving him the ability to attack from afar. As an added bonus, they would become more and more reluctant to get close, afraid to get roasted.

❀ Considering that he is great at martial art, Minghao can beat them up physically if they make the poor decision to get up in his personal space. So yeah, the zombies have learned to avoid him at all costs.

❀ The only thing that could potentially stop his destruction of zombies is the ethics and morals of beating them up. He might get into a debate with Vernon about whether their remaining humanity makes it unethical to hurt them, and ultimately decides that it is bad for his karma to continue his act of wrath.

Seungkwan: 5/10

❀ Initially, Seungkwan is so scared of them, he won’t get close enough to get killed. He is constantly nagging the zombies from a safe distance, warning them to stay away. All it does is make the zombies more determined to kill him. He keeps asking them to stop, but apparently, the tone he uses is important or something because they keep getting offended.

❀ Honestly, without Seungkwan’s constant nagging, half of the group would be acting on their insane and idiotic ideas. Then again, he would also be the one to ‘accidentally’ sacrifice some of the members when they inevitably get on his nerves.

❀ He would be ready to throw hands if you get him mad enough, forgetting he was scared in the first place. However, where Minghao’s anger issues result in a skilled display of violence, Seungkwan is ready to attack without much thought, considering the consequences later, hence disregarding his own safety in a fight.

❀ Regardless, Seungkwan will go out in a fire of rage, taking an absurd amount of zombies with him as he goes. It is glorious and cinema worthy.

Vernon: ?/10

❀ He is a npc so he can’t die. That is definitely how that works. Vernon is simply a part of the environment, don’t mind him. The zombies don’t recognize him as someone they can eat because they somehow believe him to be a non-interactable object straight out of a game.

❀ That being said, similarly to Jun, he hasn’t been particularly blessed with amazing motoric skills. I don’t think I have ever seen Vernon properly run, I feel like rather than running he would try to out-speed walk the zombies. Do not expect him to fight, he will try the bare minimum, and even that is too much to ask.

❀ Then again, he has consumed so many films and tv shows that he does have a massive mental archive of everything that has been produced about zombies from which he can draw whenever he finds himself in a pickle. Is fiction reality? No. Is it useful regardless? Yes.

❀ Considering he is Seventeen’s other favourite child, they will try their best to keep him alive. He has them all wrapped around his finger. One little whine and they will bend over backwards to help him with whatever he needs/wants.

Dino/Chan: -1000000000/10

❀ He is trying his best. If it wasn’t for the others, he would have a decent chance at making it out alive. He is fit, motivated and confident about his own capabilities without being overconfident. On his own, he would be determined to see the apocalypse through.

❀ Pair him up with Wonwoo and nothing can get him killed. Wonwoo will keep his Dino alive even if it costs him his own life.

❀ That being said, the members would get him 1000% killed. They won’t let him breathe for a second and he has to constantly watch his back. They love him, sure, but they also think his shrieks of panic as they ‘accidentally’ lock him in a room with a zombie are hilarious.

❀ Against all of them, he truly doesn’t stand a chance. They don’t really want to get him killed but they make staying alive arguably much more difficult for him than it needs to be.

❀ At this point, he might simply give up and switch teams. He can get revenge on them by turning into a zombie, finally having the last laugh as he munches on their brains.

masterlist

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greatprotector-if · 2 years

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DEMO: SOON...

The Great Protector is a 16+ interactive fiction story where you play as the knight responsible for protecting the crown of the tiny kingdom of Tabalos.

(Please keep in mind that this game is in very, very early development. Updates will most likely be VERY slow as I’m a full-time university student and also just a very slow writer.)

STORY

Forced out of your family's farm against your will, you are now an ocean away from home, and you have somehow been chosen to be the main protector of the heir to some kingdom you’ve hardly even heard of. The spot's only open because the former protector died of old age, so that's probably a good indicator that it won't be as strenuous as it sounds. But despite that, you pour yourself into your work. You can't help it. You feel safer decked out in armour, and you like having something you're trusted to look after.

Protect some royalty, cover all your blind spots, and try not to worry about all you've left behind.

FEATURES

Customize your name, appearance, pronouns, gender, and magic elemental affinity.

Speaking of magic, yours is... faulty. Always has been. But now that you're out in the world, maybe you'll be able to find a way to fix it.

Three ROs: the carefree crown of Tabalos, the stoic town healer, or your fellow royal knight who doesn't like you very much.

See the sides of the royal family the public never will.

Build relationships with a variety of different characters and find your place within the town. When you’re not out knight-ing, you can do other things like... gardening or searching for escaped sheep?

Meet a kid who reminds you a little too much of the past you’ve been running from.

Will be updated as the game develops!

YOUR BIGGEST FANS

Sacha [wind (former), they/them]

The kid. You aren't sure what to make of them, but it seems like they've fixated on trying to impress you.

Teddy [duck, she/her]

Sacha's pet duck. She's white and fluffy and absolutely adorable.

ROMANCE OPTIONS

Kallias [fire, m/f/nb]

The heir to the kingdom of Tabalos—and also your liege. To put it frankly, they make you feel like more of a babysitter looking after a toddler with no sense of self-preservation than a knight for a grown adult. They seem to be determined to make your job as difficult as possible, with their insatiable lust for doing stupid, reckless things like sneaking out of the palace in the middle of the night without telling anyone to fist fight a wild animal in the woods, all with an ever-present smile on their face. Perhaps what you’ve really been hired to protect Kallias from is themself…

Though they love to joke, they’re surprisingly humble for someone who’ll literally rule the entire kingdom some day. Sure, it’s a really small kingdom, but it’s a kingdom nonetheless. In fact, they don’t really act like royalty at all, which can probably at least partially be attributed to them spending more time in the city than in the palace. The Queen doesn’t know about this though, so shh, don’t tell.

Kallias has a lean build, freckled light brown skin, and wavy pink hair that they try to keep swept up and out of their face. Their hair is about shoulder length, and it’s always windswept and artfully messy--and also long enough that it's constantly getting in their eyes so they’re always combing it back with their hands. Their eyes are hazel, but they always look especially green in the sunlight. They have a half-sleeve tattoo as well as multiple small ones in various places, all easy to cover up if they need to. They have eight piercings in each ear and one in their tongue.

Galen [water, m/f]

The town’s only healer, and also most definitely the only reason Kallias is still alive. They were born with superhuman physical strength, and they have the thick arms to match. They’re diligent and responsible which helps them be very good at their job. Alas, they aren’t very personable... yet they’re still almost shockingly popular, always offered warm greetings from the townspeople the rare times they’re out and about in the streets. They never smile back, but they greet each of the townspeople by name, and no one seems to mind.

They look a little intimidating at first glance—and they’re still a little intimidating at the fiftieth—but if you pay attention you’ll notice how gentle they are with their patients, and the care they take to regulate their strength when interacting with others. You'll be hard pressed to find a better healer, much less someone who can heal as painlessly as they do, and given your job you’ll probably be getting to know them pretty well.

Galen has a stocky build, warm brown skin littered with scars, and curly black hair, though despite being so young they have the beginnings of a salt and pepper thing going. Male Galen’s hair is short and curls around his ears, but it's still a little too long for his liking. Female Galen has long flowing hair that goes all the way down to her mid back, though she keeps it in a bun with a hair scarf while she’s working. They have thick eyebrows, long, pointy ears outlined by their own bones (don't worry they're fine it's just like nails!) and their eyes are gold. If you can manage to get them to smile, you might even discover that they have dimples, but who knows?

Victoryne/Valen/Vail [f/m/nb]

V is the only nephilim of your fellow royal knights, and they are determined to make one thing clear to you from the moment you meet: they hate your guts. More specifically, they harbour a deep grudge against you for somehow being chosen by the crown themself to be their royal protector, despite your... rather severe lack of experience in the field. V trained their whole life to get where they are, so to have some random farmer's child just show up and steal their dream job from right under their nose? Infuriated doesn't begin to describe how they feel.

Few things in this world are certain, but there is one thing you can know for sure: V will always have you in their thoughts, wishing on your downfall.

V is considered rather short for a nephilim (and feel free to interpret for yourself what that means), but they're quite toned. They have olive skin with many scattered beauty marks and brown hair. They only have one eye, and it is gray. The other one they were born without, but it looks like it was clawed out because of the scars they received later in life. The rumour goes that the scars were self-inflicted for the guise of having a story to tell. V has three pairs of wings on their back. The skin on their arms tapers off to an ink black once it reaches their wrists, and the same happens on their legs about mid-calf.

The Great Protector is my first ever IF game, and this is also my first time using tumblr, so I have no idea how any of this works! If you have any feedback feel free to let me know!

#if wip #cyoa #interactive fiction #interactive games #interactive fiction wip #the great protector if #twine #twine game #twine if #wip #work in progress #lgbtqia #lgbtq

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galesleftearring · 6 months

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Bloodlust

Astarion x Reader originally written for @infernalenginesheart 's tiefling tav Odile.

Warnings: dom reader, sub Astarion. AFAB reader, no pronouns or names used. Cunnilingus, period sex, he's a vampire so there's blood, orgasm denial, gag, underwear as sex toy, I think that's basically everything.

The first time you walked into Astarion's tent after the rest of the camp had retreated into their own, it was almost more of a surprise to you than it was to him. You had known he was teasing you, watching you to see how you would respond, all day. He hadn't fed from you in a few evenings and you could tell he was getting restless, hungry for you, but enjoying the game too much to press his luck. It almost seemed he was waiting for you to capture him, not the fierce predator one might expect a vampire to be. You assumed he could smell the blood when you walked back from your morning wash in the creek, though you had thoroughly cleaned yourself. Your menstrual cycle would not be stopped by the stress of the road and your long journey, the fear of wondering what was to come. Would you make it out alive? You pushed those thoughts from your mind and focused on Astarion's wicked eyes at dinner that night. He has seemed to both plead and challenge you with each glance. Let me taste you. If you dare. I won't get carried away this time, I promise.

You enjoyed making him wait. The uncertainty, you were sure, would drive him wild. And that was exactly what you wanted - Astarion wild, lapping at your folds, desperate to taste the ruby drip staining your underwear. So you found yourself at the entrance flap of his tent, about to cross the threshold into the vampire's private chambers. He was sitting in the corner, up against a crimson cushion, disrobed but for his shirt. Its hem was just short enough that you could tell he was not wearing his underwear, but long enough that you could not see more than the outline of his soft cock. In his hands was a dagger, which he was polishing with a rag. Astarion looked up from his task as if he had been expecting you. He dipped his head in greeting, nostrils flaring slightly. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

Wordlessly, you pulled the cord from your shirt and let it fall open. "My my," Astarion breathed, a smile playing at the edges of his lips, his eyes lingering on your soft breasts, supple curves coming to pinpricks of arousal already hardening in the night air. "I had hoped tonight would be our night darling. You should have heard the noises coming from the wizard's tent last night. Your friend certainly seems to have had an excellent night, judging by the way she was calling his name until the wee hours. It's about time we had our turn." You hadn't come here to talk about your companions' budding romance, and you hadn't come here to listen to Astarion run his mouth either. You had other ideas for his lips, other sounds you wanted to draw from him.

"I'm glad you're already on your knees," you smiled at him, "that will save me time."

His eyes widened, and a mischievous grin bared his glistening fangs to you. You thought you saw something twitch under his hem. This was more than enough confirmation to you that your advances were more than welcome, and you slipped out of your pants with more eagerness than ease. Pulling your shirt over your head, you stepped closer to him, wearing nothing but your underwear. You could feel that they were starting to dampen with more than just your monthly bleeding. Astarion placed the dagger on the ground, not breaking eye contact with you. You could see your own dark eyes reflected back at you, infernal fire blazing. You closed the distance between the pale elf and your aching core. He looked up at you from under soft lashes, suddenly pliant and needy. The smell of your blood had him on edge already, you could tell, and the shirt was now doing little to hide his erection. Guiding your fingers through his white curls, you found a grip and pulled back, snapping his chin up toward you. He gasped, eyes glazing over slightly. "Eat," you commanded, shoving his face into your undergarment. He shuddered with pleasure, then pulled the last layer of separation from your skin to the ground.

Inhaling deeply, he shut his eyes and began to lap at the slit between your thighs, his tongue hungrily searching for every drop of wetness. It wasn't enough. You pushed his face deeper into you, smothering a small cry that had escaped his lips. "Do you want to feed from me or not?" you demanded, the power of having a vampire desperately clinging to you almost as erotic as the movements of his starving tongue within your folds. He groaned, the sound muffled, and as if in response to your question flicked his tongue inside of you.

You gasped despite yourself, grinding into him, seeking friction while he drank from your core. You were no stranger to sexual games, but none like this - no vampires in your past bedpost notches, nobody so hungry for your cunt. You felt his concentration shift, less of a physical sensation than a mental one, and realized he was frantically tugging at himself, his fist balled around his long, slender cock. Your hands still in his hair, you pulled him roughly from your lips. "Did I fucking tell you you could touch yourself?" you growled. "Was I not clear when I told you to eat?"

Somewhat dazed, he looked up at you. "I hardly see how my hands make a difference to you," he pouted, "and besides, most partners enjoy the pleasure of the other party."

Before you could think better of it, you pulled your hands from his hair and grabbed him by his blood smeared chin. Shaking his head slightly, you bent to be inches from his face. "Lie down," you ordered.

All the fight left his eyes, replaced with desire. "Yes," he mumbled, lying back onto the cushion he had been resting on moments before you came in. Holding his hands above his head with one of your own, you lowered yourself to his waiting mouth and sat as though it was your throne. Astarion began to lick and suck at your clit, seemingly spurred on when you dug your nails into his wrists. You could feel him moan against you, the humming buzz of the sound vibrating against your sensitive nerves, and you moaned back. His tongue began circling faster, and you felt the pressure mounting in your stomach. Orgasm was close at hand.

Astarion's teeth gently scraped at your clit, careful not to bite down. This small pressure was enough to send you over the edge, your hips rutting against his mouth as you rode out your orgasm. "Fuck, oh yes, that's it, fuck, good boy, fuck" you panted, only half aware of what you were saying as you came down from the high and pulled off of him, still holding his hands firmly in place. You looked down to assess the situation: Astarion was staring at you, eyes glazed with submission and lust, chin coated in your cum and blood and his own saliva. His cock was dripping slightly, precum beginning to stain the stomach of his white shirt.

You decided to take mercy on him. Spitting into your palm, you wrapped one hand around his member, the other still holding his hands firmly in place. He inhaled sharply at the touch, eyes widening as your pace quickly sped. You were able to finish him quickly like this, his back arching with his cries as he spilled onto his chest. Panting, he came to with a moan so loud you knew the rest of camp would have heard him had they been awake.

You praised him again, but your hand was still around his twitching, sensitive cock. You weren't done. And, given how hard he still was, it seemed he wasn't either. You picked your underwear up off the ground beside you and stuffed it into his mouth to muffle his cries as you straddled him, finally releasing your grasp on his wrists. He bucked his hips involuntarily as you lowered yourself, the head of his cock barely grazing your entrance. "Do you want it?" you teased, "do you want to feel yourself buried inside me?" He nodded, eyes wide. "That's good," you continued, "because that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to fuck myself on you until I'm coming again, do you understand me? I'm going to use you until I'm satisfied and then, and only then, are you allowed to cum again." You pushed yourself down onto his full length with these words and watched his eyes roll back as you began to ride him, fucking him roughly and hard, your pace faster and faster. With one hand you began to play with your clit, and with the other you pulled his hands up to cup your breasts. His fingers slid over the buds of your nipples and pinched, the pain surprising but not unpleasant. Looking at him like that, eyes wide, drool starting to pool at the corner of his mouth - how slutty he looked in his post orgasm glow and still flushed with arousal, your underwear in his mouth muffling the moans he let slip with every drop of your hips, you felt the snap in your core and let your cunt spasm around him as you came again.

He was whimpering now, barely holding it together, but it seemed that he had obeyed your order and not cum. You debated for a moment if you were going to keep riding, let him finish - you had a protection charm, so there was no worry of unwanted consequences if he filled you, but you decided you preferred him like this. Better not to give him too much of what he wants. You stood up, the sudden loss of friction making him look at you desperately, greedily.

"Sorry Astarion, did I not make myself clear? You don't get to cum again tonight." You laughed, picked up your clothes, and left him lying there, cock throbbing, your underwear still in his mouth.

A souvenir. You'd have to come back for them tomorrow night.

#bg3 #bg3 smut #Astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #mine #odile #baldur's gate #baldur's gate fanfiction

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lightparty-fullparty · 3 months

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Can't possibly be me Zenosposting again - what is this a day ending in Y?

Anyway, I've been thinking about the murder boy again. This has mostly spawned from my replaying of the Stormblood patches and seeing Amnesiac Yotsuyu, which sparked a bit of a Nature vs Nuture debate between me and my friends.

Basically, my question for this post is "How much of Zenos' whole deal is Nature (aka He was just born like that) and how much of it is Nuture (aka the enviornment he grew up). Some of you might content to say Nature and leave it at that, which is a completely valid outlook to have. But for me there's just one... teeny... tiny... little detail that has sent me on a wild consipriacy theory of a ride that's resulted in this post. Emet-FUCKING-Selch.

Listen to me, listen okay? I cannot, CANNOT ignore the fact that this absoulete motherfucker (affectionate) is Zenos's cannonical Great Grandfather. Who was very much alive and kicking during his childhood. Emet-Selch or Solus zos Galvus whatever moniker you wanna give the man, is an Ascian. One of THE Ascians. Not only that, he's 'The Architect" the guy who's job it is to design and engineer the calamities meant to rejoin the Shards of the World back together again. What does he do to achieve this? He builds empires, he starts wars, manipulates people and situations to result in untold elemental chaos. Iirc correctly he's responsible for causing all eight calamities that have occured so far in FFXIV. (Eight got undone but I'm still counting it).

Now for this post I'm going to be focusing mainly on the Seventh, Eighth, and Fourth Umbral Calamities. (Which are the ones coincidentally we're told the most about in game). This Calamities all involved Empires. The Allagan and the Garlean, both of which Emet-Selch was responsible for creating. From the Allagans we have the creation of Dalamud, Cyrus Tower, and the Ultima Weapon. As well as an extensive history of biological research. Cloning, Gene Splicing, Mutation and so on. (A sundered mortal's attempts at creation magjicks perhaps?) The Garleans too, have a notible history of biological research, they draw a lot of their modern technology from Allagan design. No coincidence there given Emet-Selch's involvement. But we've seen them use genetic mutation, cyber augmentation, and cloning (Emet-Selch's shadow the hedgehog ass clone bodies because he refuses to look like anyone other than his unsundered self). The also so a lot of research into the Echo. Hydalyn's mark for her champions, and soul maipulation. (Ala Mihgo Dungeon and In From the Cold Duty both points of note for examples of the Soul being manipulated here - physically torn out of the body).

"Now Gengar " - I hear you ask - "What does this have to do with Nature vs Nuture or Zenos?" Well, I tell you, everything really. Hear me out. Emet-Selch designed the Garlean Empire to be the perfect chaos causing conquest force. They have no ability to use either, making them initially vulnerable as a people to the rest of the races. Building up a tasty, tasty resentment and need to feel superior. He sent them marching to 'reclaim their home' and then to 'unify the three contents under their superior peaceful, organised leadership'. The 'Savage Races' summon evil primals and weild evil distructive magjiks. He gave them a perfect cause and reason to hate everyone else. He gave them magitech to level the field and make them supieror at combat. Garlemald as a nation is the perfect war machine. Allagan 2.0 if you would. And Zenos is the perfect 'Champion' to lead that nation into battle. To spark that next Calamity. Look at the guy. Garleans might be on the taller side (depending on the character. Cid is a shorty), but Varis and Zenos are HUGE. Emet-Selch isn't nearly as tall as either of them despite being a blood relation. Which makes me think there was some of that Allagan/Garlean/Ancient playing with genetics and form at work. Make them bigger, more durable, stronger, more intelligent.

It's like Captian America. You want the perfect solider. And a perfect solider for Emet-Selch would also need to be cold, ruthless, manipulative.

There was a post I saw a while again about Mecha Pilots. And OP pondered on the idea of physcially having your brain and body contiditoned to love battle. To love destruction and killing and fighting.

Do you see where I am going with this?

You want someone bloodthirsty enough to cause a Calamity for you, you need them to feel nothing for their fellow man. (Insects all of them. Disappointing. Found Wanting.) You need them to find such overwhelming joy in battle that no other earthely pleasure can compare to it. (Brilliant. Blinding. Trandsenant Moment.)

No attatchments. No emotions, Just violence. I offer to you dear readers, that Emet-Selch carefully modified Zenos' litterally brain chemistry. Making him predisposed to a lack of empathy and his brain releasing those pesky joyous chemicals during battle. Inflicitng and feeling pain. I offer the theory that Zenos has literally been built for combat. If you cut him open, his bones and muscles and organs would be so alienly perfect. Denser, perfectly optimised. Exceedingly perfect. His brain remapped for pattern recognistion and quick skill building, Easy to train in the art of slaughter and tactics. Unable to forge the emotional connections that would only serve to hinder him. (To isolate him from family).

What evidence to I have? Outside of Emet-Selch's known history of building Empires? Easy. I already know he's done this kind of thing before.

Vauthry. The baby Emet-Selch mutated into half a Lightwarden. Able to command the Sin Eaters and ensured would be raised into a tyranically, childish, king. To keep the First from Uniting. To ensure the Eighth Umbral Calamity would continue along it's march to completion.

Why wouldn't Emet-Selch have done as much to Zenos too?

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #zenos yae galvus #emet selch #solus zos galvus #DO YOU SEE IT?#DO YOU SEE MY VISION?#MY REVELATION?#IT'S HIS SPECIAL BOY BONE STRUCTURE GODDAMIT #It's the Frankenstien Allagory #You were *made* monsterous and alien #Body Bone and Mind #Designed to be PERFECT #but Perfect for what?#ghostly rambles

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