#I have yet to embrace this level of feral

[fawninthesnow]

Hey! I understand if not cuz you originally wrote the fic as a one-shot but I honestly think attention has the potential to have a part 2 or be a mini-series. Like i’d love to see reader x geta sneaking off or something despite caracalla. I also hope you’re having a wonderful new years and I love your writing 💗

Hiii! You are so sweet! Thank you! So, It was originally supposed to be a mini series but I forgot to finish my planning. I think I'll do 3 parts in total!

𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Part 2

𐙚 Emperor Geta x Fem! Emperor Caracalla x Fem! 𐙚 18+

Summary: As one of Caracalla's concubines, you find yourself in a bind when you grab his brother's attention.

Warnings/contains: fem dom (kinda), sub male, concubines, smoking, alcohol consumption, obsession, idealization, not proof read-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 1.2k

PART 1

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That night, Caracalla nestled into your warm embrace, his arms wrapped tight around your waist.  Droplets of saliva traced paths down your chest.  His breath, soft as his hair, lulled you into a peaceful exhaustion.  As usual, the emperor's door remained open—a fear of enclosed spaces a constant, and the bedroom air, consequently, cool.  Your nakedness contributed to the chill.

Geta stood in the hallway, just outside the door.  A servant held a torch, casting light on his perplexed face, his arms crossed in a posture of confusion. “Let us go.” He said to the servant, continuing down the hall.

You looked at the boy on your chest and rubbed his hair. Something in you wanted to stay, you knew on a personal level how it hurt him when, yet another person would leave. But simply the idea of Geta was enough to make you feral for sex.

You brushed a kiss against Caracalla's hair, then stepped off the bed.  Wrapping yourself in a robe, you slipped down the hall, a single candle your only light.  Reaching Geta's chambers, you requested passage, and the guards promptly opened the doors.

The emperor smirked, pushing the two women from his bed. “Leave please.” He said rather condescendingly to the women before turning his attention back to you. “Come, come.” He waved you over to him, inviting you into bed. Geta calmed his breathing, attempting to stay composed although a goddess of a woman just entered his bed. “I- I always thought it to be unfair that the most beautiful women go to *him* first.” He said, his hands glued to your flesh. He pulled you onto his hips, resting his back against the bedframe.

“Wait. I need to say…Caracalla may not know about this. I will leave before he wakes.”

“That is fine.” He looked up at you, enjoying the weight of your body on his. “You smell heavenly. Your beauty…I cannot begin to describe. Where are you from?”

“Mauretania.”

“Ahh, I see. I will call you...Lotus.” You blushed as he moved the curls of your hair from your eyes, “Where did he find you?”

“I was shopping for fruits at the bazaar when he came into the city.”

He chuckled, “I…believe you.” He did not. However, he did not want to waste time with you.

Your hands hold onto the sides of his neck, “He is asleep, but he will notice in time that I am gone.” Geta’s eyebrows furrowed as you pulled away from him. “I did not come here tonight to have sex with you.” The man’s nostrils flared in frustration, his arousal only teered off as a result. “I told you I planned to leave before he woke. Now, tomorrow, he plays with his friends in the courtyard, lounging festivities. I will meet you here then.”

“N- no! I want you now. Please? I promise to satisfy you; such a beautiful woman…” He murmured; his mind rather scattered with the thoughts of losing you. You watched as he frantically placed kisses along your breasts and neck. He kissed hard against your skin—

“You are going to leave marks, your highness.”

“That is my point.”

“Think of Caracalla.” You groan and push yourself from him. The man reached for your arm, placing kisses along your smooth skin. “Geta.” He held onto you as you walked towards the door. You sigh, brushing his hair with your fingertips.

“Please, do not leave.”

“I will see you again soon.”

////

The following morning, Geta watched the courtyard, where his brother and friends engaged in a game of golf, their balls soaring across the garden and towards the city.  He noticed you lounging on a sun bed, apart from the other courtesans. You sat propped on one elbow, your toga tightly wrapped around your hips and chest.  The sun kissed your honey-toned skin, highlighting its smooth, supple texture as you relaxed.  You were breathtakingly beautiful, a simple radiance.  Geta wondered if you'd dipped in the lap pool; a subtle sheen suggested that you might have. Your skin looked both wet and luxuriously soft.

However, this wasn’t the plan! To just watch you from afar! No! You were supposed to sneak away by now. Sneak away and come to him! Why were you making him wait?! “Oh, my lotus…” Please do not do this, not in a time of such need!

You knew he was over behind a pillar, his eyes glaring from the copper-colored curtain. The man continued to fume with disgust as his brother made his way to you and sat beneath you. Your fingers in his hair, your hands ran down his neck and to your shoulder, your lips on his face. Every aspect annoyed Geta to a point of…arousal.

You ignored him, neglected your promise to be with him and it make his cock stiff under his garbs.

Eventually, his brother went back to his friends, but you continued to lay there. Your eyes drifted to geta; you always planned to go with him but now wasn’t the time! He looked unlike a sad dog as he rubbed himself under your gaze. From under his clothes, he held his cock with both of his fists.

You sat up, sipping your wine with a detached curiosity.  His private indulgence was undeniably entertaining, a far more engaging spectacle than the usual drunken antics of Caracalla and his companions, flinging objects – seemingly at random – towards the city.

Geta did not want to break eye contact with you for he might lose your attention. He licked his lips with desire in his low sitting eyes. The two of you traded looks, repeatedly until you each broke a sweat. You leaned forward, trying to relax the heat that rose from your core. Your nipples were pert and sensitive, unable to handle the clothing that held onto and rubbed you so gently.

His noises get slightly louder and faster, as his whole body gets more shaken up. His fists are moving faster and faster, and the amount of precum he’s releasing is not slowing down. There wasn’t any shame on his face either, just a look of pure excitement and extreme desire. His entire mind is fixated on the woman in his sights.

You could not see his manhood, only his moving arms and shoulders. Your mind ran wild with the ideas of how he looked; how well his hips grind against yours in bed, and how his soft pink lips would hold onto your breasts. You shut your eyes for a moment and felt the push of his cock inside of you in your imagination.

He frantically searched your face for your attention once more. He goes silent, and then lets out a soft gasp as he looks at you. He quickly looks back down again, as his entire body is slightly trembling. As he tries to hide his mess of precum from you, he stays silent for now, waiting for you to make a move of some kind.

You glared back at him and rose from your lounging chair. He let out a loud shuddering moan as your hand touched his cheek. His entire body shakes and quivers, and he lets out a loud whimper as his cum sprayed onto her dress right after. His hands are just covering himself, and he is still twitching a bit. Geta lets out another loud whimper, as his body starts to calm down and he finally takes control of himself. You checked for others in the hall. “Come here. I am not done with you.” You whisper and take his hand.

More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

Part 3 coming this week!! Out of Europe rn <3

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Wash away the blood on my hands

a/n nothing I can tell you…

summary: honestly just a iv x reader x iii smut. When life throws you to the curb it’s in the embrace of two masked men that you find your salvation.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It still felt almost pathetic to crawl back to them. You liked having power in this. Never being the one to seek them out. Letting them do the groveling. Slither like serpents into your embrace. But tonight, you were too desperate. Too much in need for something to chase the nagging voices away. You had tried it all at this point. Everything that usually worked on setting your mind back on track. But it was pointless tonight.  

So here you were, navigating the dim hotel hallways at almost two a.m. It had started so innocently—the connection between you three. It was almost a given. Whatever happened between Vessel and II while they were writing music was for them and them only. Each of you were more than aware that you would never compare. Would never match that. Never reach the same level of intensity that rushed when they came together. So you never tried. What was the point? That, however, left you there on your own devices when the nights mid-tour got too long and lonely. 

The first time it happened, you three had been lounging in the tour bus. A beer in hand. Laughing about the stupidest shit. In your hazy state, you had let it slip that you hadn’t had an orgasm in months. No matter what you did, nothing could ever tip you over the edge. The look iii and ivy shared had sent a shiver down your back. But it didn’t compare to the feeling of their eyes falling on you. No words were needed. None were shared. And the rest was history. 

Knocking on the door marked with the number given to you, you waited. Hoping that enough heartbeats would pass by for you to change your mind. Turn on your heels and leave. But the door swung open, revealing a shirtless iii with messy hair. Your eyes fell to the peak of the room stretching out behind him. Of iv slowly pulling the white sheets over his naked body. “You’re busy?”, you swallowed thickly. Walk away; you mentally scolded yourself; it’s their time alone; if they wanted you there, they would have said something. Yet a peg of pain still pierced your heart. “Never for you, mouse,"  iii chuckled slightly, hooking a finger beneath your chin. Tilting your face up. The cocky smirk simmered down the moment his eyes landed on your puffy eyes. “What’s wrong?”, and here it was, the class clown turning into a feral guard dong in the blink of an eye. 

You slowly shook your head, “Not tonight."  Reaching out, you squeezed his hand. “Come on,"  he said, pulling at your hand, bringing you into the dim room. “Isn’t it our favorite girl?", iv called from the bed, pulling his boxers back on. “Don’t get dressed on my account," you pointed out. "Unless, of course, you want me to take them off you once again," you mused, shrugging your t-shirt off and tossing it across the room. 

“Nah, we have a rule," iii said, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m not fucking you when you’re upset about something."  You shot him a warning look, daring him to push your buttons any further. “Have you been crying?”, iv’s fingers trailed up your neck as he stepped closer to you. Those blue eyes crashed into you with so much force that it sent all the air tumbling out of your lungs. “Can we do all this later, after you fuck my brain out?” you pleaded, “I just want to forget for a while." This wasn’t a first. All of you had leaches in your brain. Through the past year, more than a handful of nights were spent plucking each other’s fears and self-doubts with roots deeply embedded in one’s soul. 

“Say less," iv mussed against your ear. He pushed your hair over your shoulder as his lips pressed against your skin. Breathing life back into you. His fingers aimlessly work with the zipper of your skirt, letting it fall to the floor with a thud. You could hear iii whistling from behind you, “No panties, naughty."  His warmth seeped into your back a moment later. “A girl with a mission on her mind. We left you alone for a night, and you already couldn’t take it." His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, causing your eyelids to flutter. 

“I hate you," you muttered, reaching up to pull at the roots of his hair. "Bet,"  he chuckled deeply, his fingers slowly trailing down your lower stomach and between your thighs. Making you let out a sigh of relief. “I can tell from the way you’re dripping onto my fingers, and we haven’t even started," he hummed making iv snort. “What does that say about you, darling, hm?”, iv leaned in, fingers brushing over your breast before he moved to pinch your nipple. 

“I want you,"  you moaned out, grinding back against iii, feeling him slowly getting harder as he bucked his hips against your ass. “It couldn’t be more obvious,"  he grunted against your ear. "Shower,"  you muttered, earning a collective “huh” from both of the boys. “Can we do it in the bathroom?” slowly licking your lips, you watched as both of their pupils dilated. “You little freak," iii huffed, hooking one arm beneath your bum. You only had a chance to let out a shriek as your hands leaned forward to brace against his shoulders. He covered the distance in a total of four steps. 

Your back hit the back wall tiles, and you quickly wrapped your legs around his torso. iii lips crashed into you so fast you didn’t get a chance to take a breath in, and then a stream of water crashed onto the both of you. Drowning out the last echoes in your mind. He was everywhere. Every inch of your body hummed to the feeling of iii squeezing your thighs as he bucked against you. The feeling of his semi-hard dick, still clothed in black boxers, slipping between your folds made you cry into the kiss. 

“Don’t leave me hanging you two," iv chuckled. You pulled back from iii, watching iv slowly pump his hand up and down his cock as he made his way to you. Where you and iii usually collided like two stars, leaving nothing but ruins in your path, iv weathered the storms you both caused. Like a shore, taking the beating of the waves over and over again. 

iii, slowly let your legs hit the floor once again. Your eyes lingered on him before iv pressed against your back, pulling you against his chest. “iii, why don’t you show your little siren just how much we want her in return?", iv mused. iii didn’t have to be told twice as he slowly sank to his knees in front of you, sending your stomach tumbling down at the sight. That alone made you weak in your knees, so the moment he leaned in, nibbling on your thigh, your whole world tilted. His tongue lapped at your heat mercilessly. A cry that slipped past your lips felt inhuman. iii parted your legs ever so slightly, giving himself more room. “Fuuuck," you mulled, bucking your hips against him even more. “Look at him worshipping you," iv muttered, brushing some of the wet strands of hair away from iii face before sliding his hand up your chest. “Only you get treatment like that, love," he said, slowly nibbling at your shoulder, nudging the tip of his cock between your thighs. "Ivy," you grunted, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. “Gonna cum on iii tongue?”, he touted, “I know you want to, baby."  His hand reached out, clasping your hands beneath your back. Pulling you away from touching iii, the lost contact made you grunt before iii reached up, circling your clit with his fingers before dipping them between your folds. “Oh, god...", you whimpered. That familiar feeling of his fingers beckoning at you from within your walls turned your legs into jelly. “Give her one more," iv mused, his free hand roughly palming your breast. “No, no…”, you shook your head, knowing that would be your undoing. But the devil worked harder and faster. iii grazed his teeth over your bundle of nerves, pumping his fingers in and out of you. And you were done for. The heat in your stomach pooled, as a shuttering cry left your lisps, making legs buck. But iv was quick to keep you upright, pressing firmer into you, pushing your throwing heat even more at the mercy of iii. 

“Good girl," he breathed against you, pulling your head to the side as he kisses your lips. Further sending the dizzy spell into motion. “Got to get creative over here," iii mused, licking his lips, “I call dibs on fucking her tonight." You pulled away from iv, gasping for air as he shoved your body beneath the water for a moment. “Guess you’ll have to blow me, baby." You nod at iv words. Ready to do about anything the two would ask of you.

“I guess I’m getting a king treatment tonight," iv snorted, palming himself a couple of times as he sat down on the built-in ledge, parting his legs. “His dick won’t suck itself, mouse," iii pushed at your shoulder, sending you down onto your knees. You licked your lips, wrapping your hands around his cock, pumping him slowly. Keeping your eyes on him as you slide just the tip between your lips, sucking on it ever so slightly before pulling away with a pop. “Don’t fucking tease," iv grunted, fingers threading through your hair. “Not my problem, you’re so hard," you crocked out, making iii chuckle from behind you. “You little, slut," iv grunted, pulling your head back slightly. “Put your mouth to use before I do it for you," at that you leaned in, sliding your tongue over his length, making a grunt slip past his lips. You swirled your tongue over his tip once more, savoring the salty flavor of pre-cum, before bopping your head down. 

“Good fucking girl," iv moaned, fisting your hair as you hollowed out your cheeks for him, taking him deeper. "Pretty," iii mused, “Let’s see if you can keep that up while I’m fucking you from behind."  He sinked into you with such ease that it should be shameful. Your joined moans fill the steamy room as that drug like pleasure filled your bodies. As you all chased that high. You dug your fingers into iv’s thighs at the feeling of iii stretching you out. Welcoming the slight pain it caused you. 

Your moan vibrated around iv shaft, making him press your head down even further, causing your eyes to water as you gagged around him. “Jesus”, iii grunted from the back of you as his hips found a rapid rhythm. You felt them both twitching within you, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“You feel like a fucking dream," iv whimpered, using your mouth to chase his pleasure, your drool coating his thighs. You could only hum around him as iii slipped his hand to circle your clit. Feeling your body slowly seizing as your second orgasm bloomed. iii let out a low grunt as he pounded into you, making your vision blank with pleasure. 

“Can I... fuck... can I cum in your mouth?", iv grunted through clenched teeth. You only got to hum before warm ropes of cum painted the back of your throat. And then you all crumpled, one after the other. The feeling of iv twitching in your mouth as you choked on him sent you over the edge. Causing you to clench around iii, who within a couple of thrusts griped your hips with such force as he too let his warmth fill the depths of you. Making you sob as the pleasure consumed you. 

Gasping for air, you pull away from iv, only to let your head slump against his thigh. iii’s hand was already grasping iv’s other leg as he too breathed heavily. “I think I just saw what the afterlife looks like," iv mused, making both of you chuckle lightly. “You good?”, his warm fingers traced your cheeks, making you blink up at him slowly. “Yeah," you crocked out, feeling the burn in the back of your throat. “I never came so hard in my life," iii blew out a breath, “took the air right out of my lungs." You wanted to throw a cocky line, but your brain was as blank as paper. The moment iii pulled out and his body no longer supported yours, you slumped completely, making the two males reach out to steady you with unmatched speed. 

“I think we restarted her system a bit too good,"  iv snorted. “We got you, mouse,"  iii looped an arm around your torso, “None of your demons will get to you when we’re around," hoisting you up on your feet as if you weighed nothing, he pulled the shower head to rinse the cum painting your legs and chest. “Bedtime for you," iii hummed, kissing the side of your head. Hoking an arm beneath your knees, lifting you up. You curled against him, savoring the warmth of his body. “I think we need to order room service”," ivy chirped, tossing a towel onto the bed so iii could dry your hair. “Now you’re speaking my language,"  iii nodded, eyes fixed on your dazed face as you blinked up at the ceiling. “I think we’ve been talking in the same language for quite some time now, mate," iv shrugged before dialing the number. 

[melodic-haze]

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader pt. 2

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Petplay, consensual corruption 🥰, dumbification, impact play (whipping), degradation

☆ — NOTES: Omg first ask hiiii I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THE ORIGINAL ASK WHEN I WAS LIKE 25% DONE GOD HELP ME LMAIOIO SORRY but ABSOLUTELY I DO I'm glad you see my vision

☆ — PARTS: Part 1, Part 2 (you are here), Part 3

Arlecchino my loyal little attack dog my baby 🫶🫶🫶🫶 she can So Easily reverse your roles, retaliate, hurt you in ways you possibly couldn't imagine.......and yet she chooses to stay still as you put the gilded collar on her neck, claiming her as yours to toy with for as long as she lives and breathes

You look upon how far you've come—at first she was out of her depth, the mere thought of surrendering power and control was a foreign (dare I even say daunting, TERRIFYING, though she would NEVER admit to it) concept to her, especially when she could overpower you in an instant. Now though? You can see clearly just how much she has embraced her role beneath you

You lean back languidly and lean on your hands placed on the bed behind you, taking your time in moving as your eyes stay locked onto the tall, pale figure kneeling below you as if praising the diety she was clearly devoted to. Her collar's leash was wrapped around your hand, though you make no move to tug on it—it seems that your little pet seems to be anticipating such a move, though she doesn't dare do anything lest she upsets you. And she doesn't want that, not at all! You deserve absolute perfection, and she is willing to give it to you through body, soul and everything she could possibly surrender to you.

You continue to eye her as you spread your legs at a leisurely pace, and your lips curl into a smug grin as you see her straighten up in attention like a dog to an offered treat. She was so adorably pathetic like this, waiting for your command as if she isn't a feared woman who can think for herself.. but that's precisely how you want her, so really you weren't complaining in the least.

You let out a little whistle and she immediately looks at you as you speak, "Are you hungry, puppy?"

There was a time when the Harbinger would've furrowed her eyebrows in a lack of understanding at the intent in your words, but now she was nodding eagerly with that pleading look in her eyes; you find yourself lucky, to be the only person who could ever see her in such a deliciously shameful state.

You need only say the word...

"Then eat."

And Arlecchino obeys without hesitation.

She feasts like a woman STARVED, her levels of desperation only achievable by someone so.. feral underneath the surface, but in no way is she selfish!! She takes care of you first and foremost, making sure to move the way you've trained her to move, because she can't have you unsatisfied with her performance!

Unfortunately she IS left wanting more, her pussy practically aching for YOUR attention.........surely touching herself to your taste would be a way of showing her devotion and adoration to you, right? WRONG❗️❗️ She touched herself without your permission, no matter how she tries to justify herself. She was being such a good girl for you too, a shame she had to ruin it by being impatient and disobedient :(((

You yank her off of you with a disappointed click of your tongue, and you hear her whimper at the loss of contact. You couldn't care less though, and it was evident in the way your tone had lacked its doting warmth from before, "Did I ever say you were allowed to touch yourself?"

Arlecchino shook her head, her breath actually laughably shaky, "No, however--"

"Where did your discipline go? Outside, you paint yourself as this composed, calculating 'Father', and yet all of that apparently flies off the window when a comparably weak human being gets you in such an embarrassing state." You pull her in harshly with a glare, two your fingers hooked onto the collar, "You were doing so well, only for you to ruin it all like an untrained mutt."

Then you push her away and let go of her leash, and looks at you desperately, pleadingly, apologetically, "I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I--"

"You always say this."

"I mean it, please let me prove it to you. I'll do anything for you."

A dangerous offer; one she'll be sure to regret.. or maybe not.

"You want to make it up to me?"

She nods.

"Then you know what you should be doing."

And the both of you look at a specific drawer, one with an item that you use to.. set her straight once she gets all brave like this.

"Fetch," you say, and she practically scurries over to grab it—a whip, its colour matching her usual style to truly show that it's meant for her and only her.

Though before she goes back to you, she makes sure to place the handle in between her teeth, like a stick you had thrown. When you take it from her, you relent just a little bit and give her a little pet with a decievingly kind smile, "At least you remember how to fetch. Now, come here and bend over for me, hm?"

You see her glitch and shiver before doing as you ask, and your smile turns borderline cruel as you hear her yelp out in a mix of pain and pleasure when the impact comes.

This is absolutely relevant wait a second but she is absolutely the type to not let out a lot of noises unless she's so fucked out and dumb that whatever mental barrier she has that makes her stay quiet kinda. Disappears. Fast track to this would be inflicting pain on her because by GOD it hurts so good, especially when it's by someone technically inferior to her

It's been mentioned literally more than once but power play between you is SO VERY PROMINENT and why wouldn't it be when she could kill you rn but she chooses to let you hurt her instead??? She TRUSTS you so deeply she lets you do whatever, and it's a great bonus that she actually LOVES it too

You hit her again and again and again, and she lets out these delightful screams and noises. She's verbally sending mixed signals, with her begging for more AND begging for you to stop but in no way does she want the latter. She wants you to PUNISH her as she deserves, and she will absolutely bend over for you and take it all

By the time you're almost done, you can see her trying to hold it in and be obedient for you but she's so so SO very close to the edge from the impact alone, eyes glazed out and drool on the corner of her lips as her body glitches in and out of existence from the lack of stability within her......so to reward her, you tell her that she can finally cum. And she does so at the same time as you strike once more, her back arching and her legs twitching as she screams out and squirts on the bed. Sheets are wet but you could care less as she convulses with that dumb smile on her face

You're not done yet, though. Far from it, in fact, and the both of you know this VERY well once Arlecchino calms down and looks at you with no thoughts behind her eyes, apart from the need to please you and do whatever it is you want her to

Safe to say you don't stop for a LONGGGG time and that you're absolutely sore the day after 😭

[11queensupreme11]

First of all: Long Live the Queen! Hope you're doing great, your stories are a real delicacy... I first discovered your Tsunami fic when I was in my jjk era, but your Arsenic Blues woke up my inner pjo fan. So eager to see how this all unfold.

But for now, time for the Rankings!

My personnal RoR favorites based on the manga only:

1) Shiva--> Not in the harem, but I had to place him somehow. Was searching for a Shiva fic in the first place. Love the himbo energy. At least it's good to see he's one of the "sane" one in your story.

2) Anubis--> Same, feral himbo doggo energy, can we ask for more?

3) Beelzebub--> Noo don't unalive yourself Bb love u so pretty haha🥺

4) Hadès--> All Hail to the King, here for the BigBro energy

5) Poseidon--> Mytho/Pjo fan here, of course he's one of my favorite gods, but I'm not a fan of his RoR portrayal. He's pretty tho.

6) Apollon--> Too effeminate for my taste, I was rooting for Leonidas anyway.

7) Loki--> U ugly ass, stinky ass, nasty ass bi***

Now, the interesting part, the Ranking based on [Arsenic Blues], as for now, until chapter 31:

1) Beelie Bestie 🤗! It seems you will soon give us reasons to hate him, but for now he's my personal favorite. Hope he will overcome his current difficulties. Fun fact: I tried to translate "Beelie" in my language, tried to find an equivalent nickname, I found "Bébou" (pronounced beeboo, another way to say "baby"). That’s so cute!

2) Loki--> I know it's unlikely but... is this bad that I really want him to take Percy's virginity 😳? Your writing is soooo good, it made me root for him of all people. Everyone loves a good outsider, and since he doesn't want to kill Percy anymore, he climbs up the ranking.

3) Anubis--> Favorite from the manga, I was sooo happy to see that u included the doggo. Didn't appear yet, but I have really high hopes for him. Beware the Allmighty Knot!

4) Poseidon--> This is a dark fic, I understand the appeal, the taboo of the incestual relationship, but since he's already her father, her family, the one who has authority over her, I think he has an unfair advantage compared to the others. This is the reason he's kinda low ranked, but I really loved the relationship he built with our best girl. Embrace Fatherhood (but not too much😰)

5) Hadès--> Same here, too much authority over her, doesn't have the appeal of the gradually evolving relationship. Creepy old  uncle, hope your non-existent liver bursts. For now, he's the one who had the most "action" with Percy, so it seems unlikely that he will have her virginity as well.

6) Apollon--> Well, at least he's funny 😅. I'm sorry, but based on his pathetic simpy behavior, I have to give him the stamp of the "Whiny Little Bitch" of this story. Don't worry tho, there always have to be one in a fic, and he's not as bad as his Tsunami counterpart (Yuuta you nasty motherfucker I had faith in you-).

7) The Seventh--> Seeing the results of the poll, it seems I'm one of the only weirdos who voted for Ahura Mazda. Raa would be awesome too, but I have to say I was disturbed when I first saw that angry buff dude in the spin-off. For me, Raa was still that muscle mommy from the webtoon/manhwa Ennead (read Ennead. Ennead is good for your health). I just want the 7th to not be Cu Chulainn. I know I would still love it if you include him (cause ur writing is golden) but that's just a preference of mine.

I hope I'm understood. That's a big ass message, my thoughts are all over the place and my home country is known for having a shit level in english.

If you're interested I could do the same kind of ranking for Tsunami/Bloodflood. Have a great day, Peace!

A SHIVA LOVER OMG HIIIII

the anime did him sooooo good, he's so hot there, i'm glad they didn't fuck him up like LOOK AT HIM

the bonus chapter for chapter 91 is about shiva AND IM SO PISSED IT HASN'T BEEN TRANSLATED YET, I WANNA READ IT SO BAD I DON'T EVEN CARE IF ITS SUPER SHORT 😭😭

also, YES PLEASE you're free to give me your own bloodflood/tsunami rankings too!!!

[tempestgnostic]

The Werewolf: Archetype and Identity

Someday I’ll make a list of my alterhuman and otherhearted identities, but I’m not sure when that will be. For now, I’ll just talk about the the most prominent one: The Werewolf. I capitalize the name for both its significance and the fact that it’s an archetypal identity, so to speak. (I also use he/him throughout this essay, simply because I’m speaking of The Werewolf in relation to myself, and as myself.) I’m not a specific werewolf in any sense, and I’m not drawn from just one piece of folklore, or even one broad interpretation. It’s much bigger than that. Of course, explaining all the finer details would require an essay, and time is at a premium nowadays. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief. Pay no attention to the appropriately-timed readmore.

Let’s look at an example of what I mean: the eponymous baron in Bisclavret is a specific werewolf, but he’s also one of many depictions of The Werewolf as a somewhat noble being who is wronged by others—in this case, his wife—as a consequence of his true nature. This “noble beast” interpretation can be contrasted with folk tales of feral werewolves who threaten villagers and fear neither torch nor blade. Werewolves aren’t solely monsters meant to inspire empathy or fear, however. They can also serve specific literary functions, often as symbols of broader concepts and experiences. The werewolf story can be used as a metaphor for a young person coming-of-age, a challenging tale of tangling with the darker aspects of human nature, or even as an exploration of queer identity and the liminal spaces we occupy. These are certainly not unique to werewolves, and the latter is especially common among other creatures embraced by the horror genre.

Each broad interpretation of The Werewolf feels to me like a part of my identity on some level. I’m the werewolf who feels guilty for the harm he’s done, who tries to resist his feral urges, but I’m also the one who embraces that side and indulges in it. I’m the werewolf who was born this way, the one who was blessed (or cursed) by some spirit or deity, but also the one who was bitten or scratched—forever changed out of cruelty, indifference, or even a dark perversion of love. The only bits of werewolf folklore I won’t engage with on some level are those from practices and cultures that are closed for me. They’re not mine to claim on any level—certainly not in any way that would be respectful.

Like so many in our community, my connection to The Werewolf is intricately intertwined with almost all other aspects of my identity. I’m genderqueer, yet I strictly use he/him pronouns. I have a beard—a thick one, at that—and a flat chest, yet I also identify myself as butch and sapphic. It’s been uniquely gender-affirming for me to have partners who identify as lesbians—to be fully seen and understood as butch. It would feel incredibly uncomfortable and even dysphoric for me to be with a straight woman. Even within queer spaces, at times I feel either gravely misunderstood or utterly invisible. I am, on some level, expected to conform, and my refusal to do so marks me at best as ‘confused,’ and at worst as a threat.

I embrace the androgyny in my voice and mannerisms, and I easily—often unintentionally—slip into different social presentations depending on who’s around me. (I’m also autistic, to no one’s surprise.) Code-switching comes naturally to me, likely as a result of having to cobble together adequate social skills over the course of a decade, but also as a matter of safety as a queer person who’s only ever lived in red states. The Werewolf is a liminal creature, existing in several different worlds at once and moving through them with varying levels of ability. I am no different—charming and quick to make friends when I know the social landscape, and terribly awkward and clumsy when I don’t.

In the interest of keeping this even remotely readable in one sitting, I’ll wrap this up here. The Werewolf can be a charismatic yet dangerous lover, a pitiful and wretched thing, a creature just beyond the veil of understanding, or even a kindred spirit. I am and have been all of these things, both in my external life and my mind’s inner world. I experience phantom and mental shifts, and I see myself in so many depictions of werewolves in media. This part of my identity plays a vital role for me in kink—though I’ll save the details for a properly 18+ post—in my relationship dynamics, in my pagan spirituality, and many other parts of my life. It fits neatly over my gender expression like a second skin and provides a backdrop for my social presence. I am The Werewolf As Archetype: a being representing liminality, transformation, and embracing authenticity—at any cost. It is a vital part of me, without which I would cease to be.

[mightyflamethrower]

One of the more bizarre aspects of living in today's world is that liberals have nearly infinite power to shape the information landscape, yet they still manage to often present themselves as totally cringe.

It's the same phenomenon you see in woke Hollywood, especially Disney these days. The people who create the Truman Show we live in have nearly infinite power to present their goals as attractive, but they still often fail spectacularly. 

It's no secret why this is true: the world they want to create is inherently disgusting, even when they slap a coat of paint on the image. They use nice words like "diversity," "compassion," "equity," "inclusion," and "love," but the feral grin often gives the game away. Think angry trans people, BLM, and the opening ceremony of the Olympics. These were all supposed to be good things to embrace, but the content is just repulsive to most of us. 

Identity politics is the core of the 'diversity" movement, and like all the things leftists like, most of us are at least mildly repulsed by it for obvious reasons. 

The Harris campaign is leaning especially heavily into identity politics, at least in how it is mobilizing its supporters to get excited for her candidacy. 

First there was "White Dudes for Harris," which sounds like the punchline to a joke. I thought it was a parody, but nope: it's real. 

No doubt liberals think this is a perfectly natural way to organize, but to the average person, it is, at best, cringy and, at worst, racist. 

To see the level of cringe, watch this bit from the "White Women for Harris" Zoom call. If it doesn't make you think J.D. Vance has a point about crazy cat ladies, something is wrong with you:

She is the perfect AWFL. It's cringe at its worst, and yet, for liberals, this is catnip. And because it is self-evidently good in their eyes they don't even understand that for many of us it is utterly repulsive. They cannot even imagine it. 

We shouldn't be angry about it. We should mock it. How many "white dudes" do you know who would be proud to wear a "White Dudes for Kamala" shirt? How many clips of that grating "influencer" could you stand? 

They are calling J.D. Vance "weird." And, to them, he is because he is actually quite normal. These people think the French Olympic opening show is normal, even high culture. 

The key to using this cringiness and racial segregation is not to yell about it, but to poke fun at it. People get defensive when you come off as angry (as I often am), but most also share your opinion that it is not attractive. Lean into the second and try to control your first impulse to outright denigrate it. 

I know that's hard because it is hard for me. But poking fun at this cringe gives people permission to poke fun at it. It will be self-defeating if we get people to mock it. 

[triviareads]

ARC Review of In Want of a Viscount by Lorraine Heath

Rating: 4.5/5 Heat Level: 3.5/5 Publication Date: February 20th

Premise:

Leonora Garrison has come to England in search of investors for her struggling family business. One night, she goes to the pleasure club with the intent of getting a kiss from a stranger, but she later learns the stranger is none of than Rook, the Viscount Wyeth. Neither of them intended for any more than one night together, but now Rook is not only a potential investor, but also a potential lover.

My review:

Lorraine Heath has done it again! This book is swoony, sexy, complete a hero who is fiercely in awe of the heroine and is completely and utterly obsessed with her right from the get-go.

Rook is a pretty uptight, repressed guy, and that's on purpose to distinguish himself from his absolute whore of a father (how repressed, believe me, I was surprised but deeply excited to find out), to the point where his horse is named a "Well-mannered", and he has regularly-scheduled freak-out sessions about how Leonora brings the *animal* out in him. He's adorable. Meanwhile, Leonora is vibing around (mostly) unaware of this because she's on a mission to save her family business, now headed by her useless brother, by getting investors for the typewriter she's invented all while getting zero credit for neither the invention nor her attempts to raise capital.

A super repressed hero does have his benefits, namely, Lorraine went all in on that repression and made some relatively innocuous moments WILDLY sexy. For example, Rook loves to kiss and has multiple rendezvous with Leonora where they just kiss, and I really appreciated that after reading a string of HR heroes who bend the heroine over within a couple chapters (no judgement, obviously). But the greatest moment that will forever live rent-free in my head is when Leonora lies about having a pebble in her foot, and Rook knows it's just an excuse to escape her mother AND YET he makes her sit, takes off her shoe and hands it to her so she can "check for pebbles" all while he is CARESSING her foot and quite frankly, that was the HOTTEST thing I've read in a long time.

I loved reading about Leonora's passion for machines and engineering skills— she's not just a businesswoman, but also an inventor. And on a romance level, it was lovely to read Rook understand what makes Leonora tick so early on and embrace it. He invites her to disassemble a roulette wheel at his club so she can understand its inner workings. He arranges for a private tour of Big Ben (and not just so he can make out with her on the clock tower).

There is a third-act breakup in this book; it's nothing super dramatic but it's a case of two people who are amazing together, but one of them feels that their goals are fundamentally incompatible with the other's lifestyle and that, for me, actually hit harder on an emotional level because it feels super realistic and plausible.

One last note: for those of you who complain about rakes in historical romances never facing the consequences of their actions... well, the rake in question didn't in this book either, but his son sure as hell did and handled it with great dignity.

The sex:

Okay first, the line "a couple can fuck without actually fucking" was uttered and I literally started applauding there. Bravo. Well done. Obviously, Lord Repression knows how to bring it, though not in a freaky way, but definitely in a thorough way.

And the sex itself is SO well-written— erotic, worshipful... it's a way for Leonora and Rook to escape the real world and lose themselves in one another (and the word "feral" is employed a few times :D ).

Overall:

I adored this book; the chemistry between Rook and Leonora was gorgeous, and the investor subplot as well as Rook's family situation kept me engaged throughout the book. I'd recommend this to literally any historical romance reader looking for a relatively simple, but well-executed love story.

Thank you to Avon and Harper Voyager and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for my review.

[valorxdrive]

Dark and inky tendrils are seized by an all encompassing light -- not for desire to banish, rather... to embrace. Kairi holds her rampaging hero against her chest, giving the boy a loving sizzle from their contrasting matters. He's so close to her appetizing heart, but it's not fear that makes it run fast...

He should know, by the way her nails gently weave through his hair.

"I got you, silly."

[ from @maregiis ]

Allowing chaos to become unbridled and unchained, reveling in this primal force to run rampant, grow and evolve. There was a sickeningly intoxicating rush that allowed him to turn his fields of battle into lifeless domains, into terraformed straits that only a natural disaster in human skin could rightfully reap. While that focus always managed careful aim, those listed as foes to Sora on the other hand..

They managed to find a taste of the crawling chaos returned to them, a rare flourish of horror that doesn't come by banishment by light.

Rather, it's through darkness does he devour, and newest breached heights were finding trouble in trying to retain that focus. Leveling his control to normal levels, to resist the tempting swing that each tendril managed to guide him towards, letting him have an innate sense for the many foes burgeoning within grim hearts or through the shadows of a larger collective, a true foe of his. Before this search made with instinct was truly about to begin.

It's the brightest light that managed to find him above all else, allowing her magnanimity to draw him into a hidden heaven etched into the legends of Sora. A realm where the light didn't incinerate or cast away, rather, there was such a selfish need to let light and darkness find itself weaving itself together, that initial taste being etched into their very beings, as the savory radiance made his shadowy form shudder momentarily in what looks like euphoria.

Did she realize just how delicious she looks to the most instinctive parts of Sora? To the most conscious? The way her heart holds vigil as irresistible light, a force that finds pride in providing a siren call to the poles that endlessly attracted each other in boundless chaos.

"......." His voice was distorted, woven into an ancient tongue that carelessly sounds feral above all else, the sensation of being wrapped in the protection of her arms capturing his attention, leaving him adjusted towards the sanctity of cloth and skin, that invisible beyond as the heightened pace of what rushes through her veins wasn't the sole factor that captured his attention.

Oh no, her Heart of Hearts was jubilant in that loving brand of mischief.

Within moments those dark hands would reach forth, sweeping along Kairi's sides, providing appreciation for her physical form as those hands swept across her sides, burning this beautiful frame into memory before a demanding clasp of those hands seized at her hips. Unanimous agreement within had tore away any semblance of doubt or second guesses.

His. She was all his.

Slithering forth would be the joined union of those tendrils, carefully worked around her shoulders, another smoothing through glimmering, fiery hair as the secured possessively around her back. The way his Heart could draw how her heart sings being wrapped in his clutches, it only made that insatiable nature bare its eagerness as obsidian lips part, revealing those sharp fangs as guttural noise is worked from his being before he approaches.

Those fangs would mercilessly seize her chest, 'puncturing skin', letting that pressure linger as the invisible boundary he bites into was into that very force of light instead of flesh, letting a physical aspect play with the metaphysical as he'd grip the princess's heart within his teeth, holding oh so careful in the way he savors this treasure, how countless heavens try to describe themselves as this sublime taste, the sort that makes a satisfied growl follow in his entire being.

Yet none could compare to his Sea, his Kairi. He'd greedily drink while keeping her pressed flush against his frame.

Those powerfully growing shadows continued to expand.

@maregiis

[silverthornwitchery]

Personal Graeco-Romano-Celtic syncretisms:

Artemis > Diana Nemorensis/Diana Artemisa > Druantia/Elen of the Ways/Arduinna. Does come to me in a fertility aspect as well influenced by Artemis of Ephesus.

Selene > Luna/Diana-Luna > Epona. Fills part of a Great Mother type role. I don't exactly know how The Earth Mother archetype plays into this or fits in my path exactly yet. Still figuring that part out. Maybe theorizing my own Earth Goddess Trinity? (Artemis > Gaia > Hera?, I don't have my celtic syncretism for that Trinity yet though)

Hekate > Trivia/Diana-Trivia > Adsaxona. Fills the archetype of Witch Queen in my path, as well as goddess of the Night. I feel she's in a way Syncretic with Nyx, though Nyx to me encompasses MANY deities.

Dionysus > Bacchus > Herne? Not much experience in this field, but I feel they both have a very liminal and primal energy. Very much share the same level of animalistic ferality, but also the same level of refined nature energy. Holds the role of Horned God in the aspect of Dusk.

Pan > Faunus > Dusios or Cernunnos. Fertility and Nature as a whole. Liminality as a whole. Argument could be made to syncretize him with Cernunnos as well and I personally do. I guess Cernunnos partially fills the role of Horned God as a whole? Which makes sense since Pan is often considered to be the "All", which in my path would translate to him being the Horned God in the aspect of Twilight as a whole. Dusios is his historic syncretism, as Dusios was a gaulish little known goat-deity or type of Spirits syncretized with Pan/Faunus.

Apollo > Apollo (lol) + Lucifer > Apollo (LOL)/Belenus/Lugh. Apollo has a lot of syncretisms and was worshipped by name in Greece, Rome, and Celtic Regions. Apollo to me is also Lucifer (both the Aradian Lucifer and Roman Lucifer, and he does embrace the Biblical Lucifer too), and has a lot more infernal syncretisms. I mostly worship him as representing the Sun and solar/dawn aspects of the Horned God, but he can also be VERY cthonic at times, especially looking at his form as Endovellicus. I feel like I have the most experience with Apollo's syncretisms than anyone else.

Hestia > Vesta > Brigid/Brigantia/Brigindo. Hearth Goddess, the eternal fire in one's soul. She doesn't seem to care which name she's worshipped under nor do I really feel a shift in energy based on name. I think that likely comes from her being the embodiment of the eternal flame, which to me is representative of the soul.

[heyseihai]

If HH hadn't completely fallen down in my estimation because of ANE, I could even write a more elaborate scene about her and Seihai. I didn't like her before, but in ANE... daaaamn.

I'm no short of ideas in this matter though.

In BoS's first version where Seihai went to look for Ezarel on human world and he forces her to escape while fighting some templars (my first hint at the time for the future BoS plot, but discarded in rewrite), when she returns she's grounded for fleeing. It was a light punishment even, but Seihai was so p*ssed and still affected by Ez's death, that she punches HH and that's how she goes to prison.

I could even write a scene where HH visits her and as the conversation goes on, Seihai goes feral and beats her again countless times. And HH doesn't fight back. Seihai is "Lance level" of aggressive at first, but her hits become weaker as time passes, she's consumed by rage and hatred, drained by it, but still angry. Her body has no strenght anymore, but her mind is still burning, her soul.

HH even asks if she's better, Seihai rages again, but her hits are pathetic now and ironically, it's her body who hurts now. She couldn't feel it thanks to adrenaline, but now she's all sore and worse: when she insists on beating HH, her hits are so weak that it's Seihai who gets hurt now.

This makes Seihai even angrier, but if she can't hurt HH with her body, her brain is still 100% for a word fight or whatever! HH just smiles, sadly, while during her tantrum, Seihai screams that no fenghuang would ever now what a sacrifice meant. Not them, a bunch of weaklings that were so useless that they weren't even fit to be used as sacrifice. Killed first the dragons, then caused an aengel civil war, and as final blow killed her race to assure they remained as the only founder race left.

And they weren't able to do even that. She was still alive. Valkyon was no more, but Lance still lived, corrupted, but alive somewhere. Dragons would have a chance as long as they lived. Same for the daemons, thanks to Erika and Leiftan (they don't know about the primordial aengel yet).

-You'll never know what it means!

-I know... - HH says, still with that unbearable smile, a pitiful and merciful one. ffs, Seihai hated those eyes so much. - I know what it means now... I do know, Seihai!

HH and Seihai are kinda similar. Phoenixes are known for being reborn from the ashes, and Serpents are mostly known by ouroboros, a snake biting its own tail. Both represent the reocurrence of time in slightly different ways. Death and rebirth, endings and beginnings. Serpents and fenghuangs were doomed to never die, to never rest. They were condemned... to live. (and that's one of the things Seihai needs to learn in BoS. To find a reason to live, otherwise she'll keep persuing revenge, she'll keep dying... and living again, and the cycle goes on)

And HH felt her pain, and the pain of an entire race in those beatings, and she still felt the oppressive pain and rage around her, centuries of hatred embodied in Seihai that not even her body could handle.

Seihai keeps trying to hit her, but at some point HH can't stand see her hurting herself anymore and pulls her to an embrace. Seihai struggles, trying to hit her and get rid of a crying HH who still has quite a strenght to keep her there. But at some point Seihai's body gives up, and she cries as well. But she cries to hurt HH, it's her last resort, her poisonous tears mark HH's skin forever.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Yamada: so how did you and izuku start dating

Aizawa: I saw him crush a watermelon with his thighs and I accidentally said out loud “oh god I wish that were me right now” and here we are now

~The way this immediately and completely ate my entire brain~

Of three things Aizawa Shouta is absolutely sure:

One, he simply was not built for operating during the daylight hours. Nighttime really is where it's at in his opinion. The general lack of crowds and eye-searing sunlight just can't be beaten. (Dusk and dawn hours also get a pass but they're both on thin ice.)

Two, the beach is a sandy hell-scape whose only redeeming factor is the convenient access it provides to the eldritch horror that is the ocean aka the place he'll doubtlessly end up drowning himself when he finally, and according to Hizashi inevitably, snaps and runs gibbering mad into the abyss.

And three, he's absolutely and irrevocably cursed. He's being singled out and punished from on high by the gods themselves. His name is writ large across the cosmos in mockery. There is a cosmic "kick me" sign taped to his spiritual back and Shouta's going to hunt his former student Sero down and give him detention for life for encouraging his family's patron god to put it there.

By this point it's really the only logical explanation.

Which, as a card-carrying atheist, he's pretty sure is saying something about the depth of his feelings regarding his current circumstances.

Because there's no other explanation for why or how he's managed to find himself in this current situation.

The situation being, of course, Shouta, in full hero gear, standing in the hot sun on a pristine sandy beach, surrounded by screaming fans as he provides extra security and crowd control for the 20th Annual Heroic Sukiwari Charity Drive.

Shouta has seen hell and it is both Ms. Joke's open mic night and this exact moment right here.

Because, again, he's absolutely 100% cursed.

And the avatar of said curse is, obviously, his soon-to-be ex-best friend who somehow roped him into this entire thing.

Because some people say divine retribution when talking about cosmic revenge plots but Shouta tends to just says Yamada Hizashi. The two are, in many ways, interchangeable.

Shouta's going to put purify salts in all of Hizashi's hair products and also his sugar jar and possibly his energy drinks the next chance he gets.

Because if he never sees another shirtless pro-hero or another watermelon again in his life it'll be too soon.

He's pretty sure he has permanent hearing damage from all of the screaming and screeching the crowd's been doing since this thing started.

And if, after all these years of friendship with the personification of a megaphone, watching a bunch of pro's crush watermelons with nothing but their personal strength on a beach to raise money for various charities is what finally destroys his hearing Shouta is going to shave Hizashi bald before he finally embraces sweet death.

Or enacts Nezu's birthday plans and becomes a supervillain.

The jury's honestly still out at this point.

Shouta does his best to shut out the screaming behind him as one of the cameramen slides up beside him, getting a better angle on the stage as Hizashi, who's currently screeching about Miruko's performance, practically dances across the sand in front of where Shouta's standing.

"Wow, wow, wow," Present Mic chants as he dramatically fans himself, "that was one on heart-stopping, hare-raising show. Let's give it up for everyone's favorite bad, bad, bunny, Miruko!"

For her part, Miruko just struts off the small stage with a nonchalant wave to the crowd, her tiny white bikini in place and the pulverized remains of the half dozen watermelons she'd dropped kicked into soup left behind her.

"But don't lose that rhythm yet listeners," Mic announces gleefully. "Because we've got one more hero set to take the stage! So, without further ado, it's the moment I know a lot of you have been waiting for, myself included if we're being honest. The pièce de résistance of our little shindig, the showstopper himself, the one, the only, the #1 Can Do Hero Dekiru."

The crowd is absolutely deafening.

And, for once, Shouta has to grudgingly admit that he can't actually blame them.

Shirtless, sculpted shoulders and tight abs on display thanks to his low sitting and almost criminally short green swim shorts, and with his trademark bashful smile in place, Dekiru trots out from behind the curtained-off area with a crate of watermelons resting on his shoulder like it's no big deal.

Shouta's pretty sure someone to his immediate right faints but considering they're not currently a trample risk he ignores it.

But the casual show of strength with no quirk use in sight is more than a bit impressive.

For all that people, romance specifically, and attraction in general, have all been things to be considered on a firm case-by-case basis for Shouta, even he has to admit that Dekiru is ... captivating.

Rather drastically so for Shouta considering he's never actually met the man before in person.

Though Shouta does feel like he almost knows him on some level considering the fact that it really would take an act of the actual gods to get Yagi to shut up about his erstwhile protege during staff meetings.

Dekiru waves his free hand at the crowd as he sets his crate of watermelons down on the stage.

"Show us what you've got!" Mic demands from a few feet to Shouta's left. "And let's give him some encouragement listeners!"

The crowd starts up a loud and steady chant of "De~ki~ru!" as the hero pulls his first watermelon out and begins his set.

With an effortless flex of muscles, Dekiru digs his fingers into the watermelon and wrenches it completely in two.

Shouta reaches up to tug at the top of his uniform, relishing the small sip of cool air it grants him.

Shoulders and biceps flexing, another watermelon meets its end between Dekiru's palms.

Shouta really needs to add a water bottle to his utility belt because hydration is important. Or so he's been repeatedly told.

"Those hands, those muscles," Mic groans dramatically. "He really is the Can Do Hero!"

Cheeks noticeably flushed, Dekiru sits down on the stage and fits a watermelon between thick, toned thighs.

His hips twist, those thighs flex, and the watermelon cracks, spilling juice and sweet pink flesh all over Dekiru's lap.

"Oh god," Shouta can't help but say, "I wish that was me right now."

On stage Dekiru's eyes go wide as his attention somehow abruptly zero's in on Shouta.

It's at that moment that Shouta becomes aware of the deafening silence that's fallen over the beach.

Head-turning agonizingly slowly to the left, Shouta's confronted with the sight of Mic, microphone in hand, standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

His sunglasses are askew and he's staring at Shouta with a look on his face that's one part horror and one part unholy glee.

As a matter of fact, the entire beach is staring at him in much the same way.

For a moment Shouta just freezes, body going still at having so much attention turned in his direction.

This ... was not the turn he was expecting the day to take by far.

His first instinct is to, honestly, use his scarf to slingshot himself directly into the sun so his soul can be cleansed with cosmic fire.

But then ...

"Ah," Dekiru speaks up from on the stage, one hand ruffling the back of his hair and cheeks darker than before, "maybe we could go on a date first though? If you'd like?"

There's suddenly a part of Shouta that doesn't actually want to delete himself from existence via self-immolation.

And there's an even large part that doesn't want to outright reject Dekiru's seemingly sincere offer.

Because, when it all comes down to it, Dekiru seems to be, by all accounts, what passes for exactly Shouta's type.

Whip-smart if his very public arrest record and tendency to argue online and on the air with people he disagrees with is anything to go by.

Cute, with that dark green hair and sharp undercut, matching wide eyes, and a face sprinkled liberally with freckles.

Leanly built and small enough that Shouta's sure he could move him around easily but obviously muscular enough to be able to put up just the right amount of resistance in the right situation.

And, above all else, if the stories are to be believed, obviously some degree of batshit insane.

More than one story Yagi had told during breaks had Shouta questioning if the man had imported special American demons back to Japan and then stuffed them all into the deceptively charming and approachable-looking hero that is Dekiru.

So there's really only one logical way to proceed forward in this situation.

Shouta grins.

Several people in the crowd around him step back.

He's pretty sure he hears someone start reciting a prayer.

But Dekiru just blushes, eyes locked on Shouta's and teeth tugging at his lower lip.

"Hope you like coffee," Shouta finally says into the breathless silence that's fallen over them, "and cats."

Dekiru lights up, a smile brighter than the sun and twice as deadly blossoming across his face.

Just off of Shouta's side, Hizashi's busy having some kind of hysterical seizure.

Around them the crowd is going absolutely feral.

Yagi's going to birth actual kittens in the middle of the staff room when he finds out about this.

Shouta can't wait.

[mrpenguinpants]

Xiao: String of Fate [Soulmate AU] HCs

Hey anon! Okay, I’m just gonna level with you. This request? This request right here? Probably one of my favourites. I went feral over this at 3am and my monkey brain fabricated an entire life story for Xiao when he’s not even out yet.

I sorta combined this request with my feral plot idea (which is honestly a 20k word fic at this point), but ahem, I hope you like and np^^ gotta make so many offerings so Xiao hopefully blesses me. Have a lovely day anon!!

--- Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ Fainting ]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @sunnshiii @hanniejji​  @snowy224 @mayumintsu @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @legionqueensav​ @youaskedfurret​

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Xiao: String of Fate [Soulmate AU] HCs

The red string of fate is a concept that those who are connected by a red string are destined to meet and fall in love. Regardless of place, time, or circumstances. The red string can never be broken unless one connected passes away.

Alatus

For the past few days, Alatus would wake up early and scale the mountains of his small village to pick Qingxin flowers. The morning dew would still be on the petals before the sun came by and evaporated everything. It became a bit of a small joke that the elders used to make, that a earth spirit would appear at the break of dawn to place the flowers for harvest. Not that Alatus minded, he was grateful that whatever celestial spirt was out there made sure to replace the ones he took. Remembering to always offer a prayer of thanks and a small offering, you would scold him if he didn’t.

He quickly scaled and vaulted over the wooden beam and slipped into your room. He winced at the sound of his shoes landing on the wooden floor but you didn’t seem to stir. You were still sleeping peacefully as Alatus took the fresh flowers to add to the ones already in your small vase beside you. They were your favourite flower after all. He reminisces about when you were both children and how you would drag him to mountains and tell him all about how at the very top there was his beautiful white flower. But you were both too young with small limbs to even attempt to climb it, plus if you somehow managed to do it, it would take too long and both your parents would be worried. It never seemed to deter you as you reasoned that a wind spirit would help your journey. Come to think of it, you always put a lot of faith into celestial beings. But he goes along with your plan, never one to contain your desire to explore.

He’s suddenly snapped out of his memories when he hears a soft knock on the door. It quietly opens to reveal your mother. She gives him a small smile as he looked a bit guilty for getting caught breaking in before waving him over to hand him something. You left him with a small bamboo package that you had wanted to give on his birthday. On top of the bamboo, you had wrote a short but warming message that you were worried about him always running off outside and that he might catch a cold. He smiled softly at your words, ingraining the way your ink brush flowed down the bamboo sticks into his mind. He offer’s a small thanks as she gives him a comforting hug. Whether for him or her he doesn’t know and she leaves.

He carefully untied the brown string keeping the package together to unravel a blue, white, and gold sleeve. He silently marveled at how beautiful it was and held it up to the light, it almost seemed to shine with subtle highlights. He has no idea how you managed to create this, he had never even seen the dye of red or gold used in clothing before. Perhaps the celestial beings decided to bless you for your prayers and devotion. He gives one small squeeze of your hand as he ties the sleeve to his arm and he slips out through the same window he came from. He looks up at the mountain’s he’s scaled before setting on the tallest one. One so tall the elders say that it could reach celestia.

As he scales the mountain he can feel a taint tug on his thumb, before it slowly disappears. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, breathes in deeply, and continues upwards.

The Golden-Winged King

One of his first adepti duties was to investigate the place he once knew as his home. There had been a dream eating demon that had been spreading curses onto unsuspecting youths. Putting them into eternal sleep before they bodies finally succumbed and they passed away. It was horrible and Alatus swore he would do everything in his power to make the dream demon suffer. Unfortunely, seeing as this was his first time venturing out back into the moral world and still recovering from his trials, he was assigned to work with a senior anemo adepti. One who was well-versed in using polearms that could “show him the ropes” as mortals would say.

This other adepti was too loud and erratic for his tastes compared to the calm and peaceful friend he once knew. Always getting side-tracked and flying around Alatus like some overgrown pixie. Never taking anything serious even though the both of you were tasked to destroy evil. But he held his tongue since this was his senior, gripping his sleeve when he was especially annoyed. This only seemed to spur the other anemo adepti further and inquire about the sleeve. Naturally, Alatus was hostile and guarded. That was first time he ever raised his voice which instead of becoming offended or angry, the other adepti was impressed.

From then on the other adepti seemed to want to interact with Alatus at any given moment. From checking in with him on his latest mission or if he heard about how the delicious flowers tasted. Who even ate flowers? Either way, every instance of communication was brushed aside, he would always make some weak excuse that he needed to train. Which lead to the other challenging him. The both of you were the same element so it would be a good time to see who was the best at wielding it. Overtime he began to look forward to your weekly spars. Even finding a bit of joy out of them. Ever since he had climbed up the mountain it had been constant training and hardships but when it came to these spars. It was fun. Alatus began to open his heart a tiny bit, let’s himself relax and fall into amusement when he see’s his partner’s face pop over him as they hovered over him.

He even began to feel his locked up heart start to beat a bit faster whenever he saw his partner perk up and wave at him. Whenever you threw your arm around him he never brushed you off like he used to, just basked in your presence as you rambled about how this stuck up bird was running everyone through the ground with her demands. It was amusing for fresh adepti’s to see you both interact. The ever stoic and aloof Alatus that taught them through strict rules loosen up immediately and smile whenever your head popped up to scold him for his training methods.

It was fun. Until the day he became possessed and killed you with your own weapon.

Guardian Yaksha

Guizhong was concerned. Ever since Rex Lapis had saved the poor adepti man from his possession, he had locked himself in. He still fulfilled his duties with alarming accuracy but it seemed that he completely on auto-pilot. He could stand in the pouring rain without realizing it or he always seemed to be in such a rush. Asking to do anything that needed to be done rather than relax. He was going to end up running through his long years at this rate. She brought it up to Rex Lapis and his fellow Yaksha but none of them had the time or want to check in on him. It was a time of war after all. Except one.

You watch him stand in the rain. Any attempts from you or Guizhong to ask if he was better always failed and you didn’t want to push. But this was already past the point of simple concern. So the next time you saw him relapse you walked over and embraced him. He usually carried himself as stiff as possible but you swore you were holding one of Rex Lapis’s pillars. You braced yourself to get thrown off or at the very least be questioned but none of those things happened. He just stood there and to be honest, you weren’t sure if that was even more concerning. You both didn’t say anything even when the rain stopped until Rex Lapis had summoned you both over.

You and him never developed a close friendship but he never seemed to brush you away whenever you sat beside him ever since you hugged him in the rain. A bare acknowledgement on good days but that was alright. Just sitting in each other’s presence when the war wanted to be quiet somedays was nice. On harder days when fighting took too much of a toll on your body you would lean your head on his shoulder. He never shrugged you off or seemed bothered by it, in fact, it almost seemed as if he leaned back against you. You both never spoke during these moments, just a silent understanding looming over you both.

Then when Morax announced that Guizhong had passed away, you felt as if you somewhat understood how Xiao felt. You didn’t even register that you had walked back to the same place Xiao was standing back when he was in the rain. The war was finally over but after everything that had happened to get to this point, it was hard. You knew that a few of your other Yaksha’s were ready to return to Jueyun Karst or return to earth. You blink quickly as you feel two arms wrap around you and you realize how funny fate seems to be. You choke out some unintelligible noise that’s a mix between a laugh and a sob as you cling onto him and let your bottled up emotions pour out.

He’s the last person you see in the newly established Liyue, wishing him luck in the rest of his journey, as you return to the earth. You aren’t sure what you’ll turn into but you hope that the peaceful atmosphere you both created will remain.

Xiao

It was completely out of the blue when you asked if he wanted to come on an adventure with you. You were both sitting under the tree that held the Wangshu inn up when you suddenly sat up and pointed in some far off direction across Liyue. Asked if he wanted to come with you after the lantern festival was over. He was a bit taken aback, you were a traveler first and foremost but you never asked if he wanted to come with you. You had always assumed that he wanted to stay as a protector of Liyue but after what Morax, now Zhongli, had said and how it was time to him to step down. You decided to ask him. It didn’t have to be far, you both could go to the stone gate if he wanted, just if he wanted to come with you anywhere.

His first instinct is to decline but you end up cutting him off before he can say anything.

“I know you have your reasons and loyalties to stay as Liyue’s protector. That’s why I’m not asking for you to accompany me across Teyvat. But I don’t know when I’m going to be back and after what happened in Liyue, I thought it would be nice to just, take a break, and go anywhere. You don’t have to accompany me if you don’t want to but I think it’d be nice to wander together,” you say as you continue to look across the land from the balcony. He can’t see where you’re looking at exactly but he ponders your words.

To wander and go anywhere. Just the two of you. He’s never even considered leaving Liyue even after all the demons were replaced with weak hilichurls and slimes. He gazes up at the tree’s leaves, looks further to see celestia, and even further back to his home. Guizhong always said he needed to relax and live in the moment of now rather than running past everything but was he really ready for that? 

“Ah, sorry was that a bit too forward? I really didn’t mean anything ba-”

“Yes. Let’s go,” Xiao cuts you off as his eyes shine in a new light of determination, “Wherever you want to go, I will come with you.”

You blink once, twice, before a bright grin stretch's across your face as you quickly ask if he’s joking. He’s not, and you cheer excitedly as you list off different places you’ve wanted to explore. Perhaps the shoal? Maybe even further into the chasm? Actually wait, the electro archon has closed that area off so maybe not there. Xiao patiently listens to you ramble as he smiles softly. Your excitement is addicting and he can feel his heart flutter just a bit. How long has it been since he felt this way? He can feel a small tug on his thumb, he looks down but he can’t see anything, but there’s a comfortable weight that he’s felt has been missing for a very long time.

---

If this seems interesting and people seem to enjoy it, I can post the actual fic when Xiao banner drops as a bit of a catalyst. It’s basically the same idea.  Though it’s kinda long so I have no idea when that’s going to be finished. It might turn into a thank you gift instead. (or ahem, you know, if you wanna commission me and see it earlier there’s that haha just kidding;;).

Honestly, I took a lot of liberties. I read the lore on adepti and Xiao but most of this is my monkey brain and previous semi xiao fics (which you don’t have to read but it would be helpful to see extended parts). Phew, this took a lot of time. It’s not as cute as my other fics but hopefully you all enjoyed it^^

Actually, nevermind. I hate this. I’ll keep it up since I haven’t posted this week yet but I hate this. 

[shadowofthehost]

"I'm sure he listens to jazz after the thirties, he has Husk- uh- the old cat guy?" He wasn't exactly sure Husk and Vox had ever actually met or if he knew anything about Husk but the old man played the saxaphone and he'd outlived both Vox and Alastor and Alastor liked his music so, if he was reluctant in the beginning, he was sure Husk had managed to sway him into listening to older er newer? jazz. "Husk puts up with a lot from Alastor, I would hope he managed to get him to embrace something from his time." Astor chuckled, propping his chin on his hands as he looked up at him.

"How much cocaine were you doing in life to have that much energy? I know you and Alastor were taking it like medicine so, were you just constantly ready to spin?" He laughed at the thought, like it was some kind of brand of zoomies. Swing music seemed like something to just wear off the effects of the drugs in everything.

He tilted his ears then raised a brow at the other, stopping himself from asking why he puts up with Valentino yet again. It wasn't like he didn't understand ups and downs but this wasn't that, Vox had been with Valentino forever and even if Astor ignored the whole, familiarity breeds contempt thing, the media overlord, wasn't even trying to pretend they were fine.

With a sigh, Astor rolled over onto his back and grinned up at him. "The looking into someone's eyes while I rip out their insides from their 'living' corpse. Didn't give that away?" He hummed, giggling slightly. "If you have the equivalent of an acid bath, might as well use it, right? Even if it is just a marshmallow, it's just satisfying to think it's someone you can't stand slowly, dying a horrible, painful death." Vox definitely wasn't far off, Astor wasn't exactly Alastor levels of mad but Astor was still a little on the feral side of things.

"I told you, I wasn't hiding, it's not my fault you don't make shadow security though if you did, I don't think I would like that. I can't see anything but burning me with spot lights being the only security system that could work and I'm really not a fan of that."

He reached up and poked the other in the middle of his screen and laughed. "How was I supposed to know you can smell? You can't taste or kiss or anything involving a mouth so, not having a nose, I just connected the dots." He stated with a shrug of his raised hands as he tilted his head.

"Licking your face is like licking a battery? Gross." He laughed, dropping his hands on his stomach as he looked over his face, he couldn't deny he was extremely tempted to lick Voxs face and find out but he didn't go for it, he could just lick a battery if he was that tempted to find out later. If he liked it, well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. It had probably been pretty obvious the gears had been turning, that Astor went through the disgust to interest to quiet acceptance that he could not in fact, lick his face without consequences.

"No, I'm robbing you of a nose and making you eatable. Even just to pretend." He giggled. "You're not a plate, you're a blasphemer of the church of peeps and you must be punished via loss of nose."

Vox shakes his head. "I could carry a tune, but in life I went to the dance halls at least one a week for 22 years. If you've ever seen the videos of the proper swing dances-- you know, enough spins to make you dizzy just watching-- that's what I did." From his first year of university until his death, the regulars he saw were probably the people who mourned him most. Vox shrugs, he'd always been a Glenn Miller fan himself, but he thinks that Alastor would have loved Sinatra. "If he's still refusing to listen to music after 1933 he's missing, lot of good jazz." It wasn't even really until the 1950s that they started getting rock and roll, and while he doubts that Alastor would approve of that, the swing, he thinks, he would.

It's a true point though, in life they really hadn't been that far apart, both of them dead just a little too soon for the golden ages of their respective mediums. Alastor would have made a killing with radio plays but those hit their peak in the 1940s.

"Bright colours, usually intimidating, warning, or to attract a mate," Vox laughs, and spreads his hands with a nod. He's seen Valentino in everything from skin to all dressed up in glitz, and perhaps the most devastating look, the one that had charmed him the most, all those years ago, had been before the coat became the iconic, ever present staple, and it had just been Val in black slacks, a vest, and a half open button-down. Maybe he would have stayed away if he'd seen it like a poison frog. He hums, a sound of agreement, even as he lingers for a moment longer in his thoughts. "He's a shit moth-- most of them don't even have mouths."

Would Hellaina look at him as if he were insane if he bought out the company making Peeps in Hell? He thinks she would, but they more than could. He'd do it silently even, so no one knew, and change them up just a little, a slightly more orange colour, swap part of the sugar out with aspartame instead. He dismisses the idea, too much effort. "I feel like I've just seen inside the mind of a mad-man." He says. "Not enough just to kill them, you have to melt them into nothingness too."

"My hours are unpredictable, three am might as well be mid afternoon some days," He lifts an eye, taking his phone back to put Astor into his own contacts, making sure to add the emoji in the last name spot that signified who exactly, the number belonged to-- friend, distinct from employee, Sins, Velvette and Valentino, the other category of people he dealt with on a regular basis. It made for a convenient enough shorthand. He has to admit that the idea, is practical at least, he slides his phone back into his pocket, though not without noting the level of charge. High enough he won't have to worry about it dying. "Easier than coming up with a new and novel way to keep track of my own apartment."

He blinks, and holds up his hands in a call for peace. "Wait, wait-- you think I can't smell?" And okay, it's a fair assumption when he has no mouth or nose, and it definitely wasn't how most people smelled, but the filters were equipped with the sensors for it. "I wear cologne, do you think I just grabbed one off the shelf at random?" It was a more disconnected sense, more like a combination of sensors than an actual organ, and maybe a bit more like the memory of them some days, but it was still there! He didn't have eyes either, even if the screen display did, but he could still see.

He notes Astor's move to lay on the pillow to keep him from using it as a weapon again, and smiles to himself, smaller and smug than the showman's. "I've been told it feels tingly, a bit like putting your tongue on a battery," which considering the screen sparked when broken, made sense. "You're not ingratiating me to your culinary habits."

[legguk]

Hi!! So,

it's my ( literal ) first time writing fanfiction, so I'm pretty new at this stuff, but Lady Dimitrescu is all I was able to think about for weeks and I >needed< to do something about it.

( If you want some context, I wrote this thinking “what if Alcina survived?” - Alcina's pov )

———

The fall,

The end of everything you once loved

Ethan Winters.

You woke up... somehow, you woke up. The frigid air hitting your fresh wounds felt like a jolt send by reality, as if one says "you're still alive" -

- and oh how you were starting to hate that feeling.

Laying on the demolished floor of your castle, muscles twitching in pain, mouth open gasping for air... that's how you are, how you will remember yourself from now on. A defeated dragon, a crushed woman, a dead mother.

You should get up, you should let go of your carcass and crawl your way back into the warmth of your home, you should—

—you should be dead, actually. Resting on death's cold embrace along with your daughters.

Daughters.

God, your daughters.

The memories flood your mind with a painful, unbearable reminder; they're gone, dead, crystalized - gone. They're gone. Your lovely daughters, your pride and joy, the main reason you'd open up your eyes in the morning...

...Bela,

Cassandra,

Daniela....

Their names are long cold, not yet forgotten - no, never forgotten - but somewhere else, as they don't belong here anymore; not on your arms, tucking them to bed. Not on your hands, caressing their faces. Not on your lips, kissing their foreheads. Not on your tongue, as you say them.

A raspy scream leaves your throat, it sounds disturbing.

You sob, hot tears trailing down your cheeks and neck, small cries for help find their way into the wind, disappearing with less importance then when they materialized.

You cannot recall for how long you stayed at that very same position, perhaps some hours, perhaps a day, but you are certain that at some point you were overcame by tiredness and collapsed - probably the best to do for now.

xxx

And so, rises the moon and the stars watch upon your limp body, the night howling a merciful wind and singing a melodic song. Grunting, you push yourself up with your elbows, sitting up and facing the sky through the hole you've made on the roof... and the levels above...

A huge carcass sits besides you, it's wings bended on itself and it's big mouth open to whoever would like to have a peek; you probably changed back into your normal body while unconscious... Now that you can see it clearly, you notice the damage that man-thing did to you... by heavens, how were you still alive and...

Oh. The castle. You look forward, taking in the horizon - the stars look exclusively shiny tonight - you breath in, the dusty air causes you to chough a few times. Stretching your neck a bit to see your whole house, you tell yourself it looks.. fine, actually, ignoring the broken windows. The broken windows.

It's cold. You shiver harshly, panting as the air meets your bare back and rumbles through your lungs, making you hug yourself, - you're naked, you just realized - the winter in Romania is truly kind to no one.

Your legs tremble with just the thought of trying to stand on your feet. You don't rush to do it either, let the wintry breeze take in your wounds, make it sting, burn it, freeze it; freeze your body along.

“To die. To die is to live. To live without them, that's torture. To live without their presence, absent of their scents, to not hear them, nor see their faces again, that's worse than death; far, far worse. How could I ever walk into that damned house without the heavenly sounds of their laughs, the tapping of their feet as they walk free, the steadiness of their heartbeats, reminding me that my own still beats.

Beats for them. For them only.

And they're gone.

So who shall my heart beat for? Myself? No, that wouldn't do. I will rip it out from my chest if I must, sacrifice it to any god who may hear me, all so I could spend five more minutes with them. Then I'd die in peace and find them at my arms again at whatever comes after this poor life.

But I'm here.”

You still hold yourself as you stare at a castle's - broken - window, new warm tears hanging the same trail the old and now dry ones did, a silent cry.

Your intrusive thoughts were abruptly cut by a loud noise from the inside of the castle, making you jump up, gathering all your last strengths to stand and walk a few shaky steps closer to home. The more you walked, the louder the noises got; a little rustle became a bang, and your tiptoing became a sprint, you hold yourself as tight as you can, ignoring the bleeding, the cold air spiking your lungs, how insanely fast you heartbeat was. You need to get there, protect the last remnant of them you still have.

The gates felt heavy now, even for you, who would open them with one hand. Where is your strength now? The fearless dragon who'd do anything to protect her house? Perhaps she died on that fall, and now all there's left is a shadow of what you were one day.

With much pain, you open the big doors, leading to the comfort of your house; you don't get in, you throw yourself in. The warm atmosphere engulfed you like a summer kiss on a winter storm, all you needed to ground yourself to reality for now. Grabbing some sheets laying over an old counter, you wrap yourself in it – oh, that's gonna get soaked in blood, but that's not of your concern now – moving incredibly fast for someone as hurt as yourself, you follow the continuous sounds that could not mean something good. The main doors are open, the cellar is unlocked as well, that idiotic man-thing couldn't even close the doors once he finished slaughtering your home? Imbecile.

You stand at the library's door now, suddenly frozen; you know what happened in there... do you really want to get in? Are you truly ready to face it again? Maybe you should take a step back and walk away, it would be the most logical decision to take now.

But what is logic when the heart screams? What is the brain for once your emotions take the best of you? You can't walk away. Put some honor on your name. Save the last bit of your daughter that fate is still conceiving you. Your chest rises and falls completely out of coordination, your fists close around the fabric involving your body; get ready, you're going in; gather the last bit of courage you have inside yourself and blast these doors.

And so you do.

You bring those pieces of wood to the ground, the only barrier between you and the reality you couldn't accept; a guttural growl forms in your chest as you see a lycan approach your child's crystalized body; you're blind with ire, sorrow, protectorship - you name it - and it makes you shout at the top of your lungs as you dilacerate the filthy beasts you'd bat your eye at. A bloody trail of corpses marks your way through the castle grounds, your claws dripping with fresh sanguine fluid - which you can't tell if it's from the creatures or from yourself - the crimson path follows you all the way to the other wing of mansion like a spirit who must haunt you for eternity.

You scream like a feral animal, blood soaking the once white cloth around your form; the scream becomes a shriek, which descends to a yelp, ending as a furious cry. You can feel the anger leaving you, like the waters of a waterfall; explosive, big portions of water falling into a numb, deaden lake. Hopefully those waters will carry you with them, you shall fall and sink at a anesthetizing lagoon.

You kneel, eyes closed, eyebrows frowned; a loud sigh fills the deafening silence in the air, your mind is blank – better, your mind is red, scarlet red mixed with black, ire and grief. Slowly, your head lower itself so you're facing the floor.

The big Lady Dimitrescu,

kneeling on a pool of blood, defeated.

•

“Lady Dimitrescu!”

Who..? The voice was so far yet so close, you try your best to focus on the direction of the calls but your nerves just won't cooperate.

“Lady!”

Who would be calling for you? Is your mind playing tricks on you now? And since when you were laying on the floor? Too many questions for too little answers. You try to stand up, but a sharp pain on your side made you cry out and fall on your back, face knotted in pain – perhaps your adrenaline rush was keeping you from feeling what was really happening with your body, and now you feel like you're betraying yourself for that.

A small figure approaches you in a fast pace, causing you to unleash your claws one more time and snarl at the not-so-possible threat; you were hurt. Vulnerable. Letting someone close was the last thing you wanted now. The humanoid thing backs away a few steps with your aggressive reaction, hands on their chest, visibly afraid – even though your vision is quite blurry, you identify their expression: scared, desperate, sorrowful – they call out once more, almost shouting.

“Please, Lady Dimitrescu, let me help!”

Ah... Help... The now clearer feminine voice washes over you - a wave of compassion - as if hope has found its way to your house again. Well, it better go away again, or you'll drag it out yourself.

“Out.” was all that left your lips, your intense gaze locking with hers, a silent yet not so discrete warning; although you had only said one word, it was well understood by the woman, who stepped away, eyes still meeting yours, a dreadful cast hang on her face.

Still, she didn't left.

Is that girl testing her luck? It can only be. Once again you warn her: “Leave. I will not repeat myself.”

Her posture stiffens, after a moment of silence she looks at the door, truly wondering about leaving or not; her body turns around, her knuckles going white from how hard she was grabbing the fabric on her chest – she's conflicted. But why? Who is she, after all? – A long, defeated sigh leaves her, as if she knows there is no choice left.

“Allow me to help.” A failed effort on trying to sound confident; her voice is full of tears and her tone is oscillating – it makes you wonder if she has been crying – The human walks towards you, trying not to make any eye contact; you can't stand on your feet, you left hand is pressed on your injured side, the other is open and directing your now extended nails towards her.

Oh how funny it is, no?

The predator being cornered by the prey. The dragon being trapped by the rabbit. How ridiculous it is.

Her extremely shaky hands hang in front of her, trying to say she won't hurt you – oh if she only knew it's going to be the other way round. – One step closer.. Her lips and chin tremble; Another. Your claws grow bigger, eyes peering through her soul; another step, your eyebrows frown, her eyes are teary. The last step - your blood is boiling hot, your nerves on edge; you are still the predator. - a slicing sound and a half-scream saturate the air for a millisecond, just for silence to overfill it once more. Red splashes over the room again, on your face, on your chest, but mostly on the floor, where the girl was thrown at.

An agonizing scream leaves her throat - what a miracle, she remains alive - both of her hands cover her face, blood spilling all over her; what a sight, you would most definitely enjoy this very much on another situation. She cries out in despair, making you face the ceiling and close your eyes, a tired look on your face – you just want all this to end, you don't have any more patience for this. You want to crawl back into your bed and starve, you want to destroy this place, make it abandoned ruins of what one day was a home; you want to kill that damned sickening man-thing, kill this foolish girl for perturbing your grieving, and then yourself.

The woman captures your attention once again, she is kneeling, her body facing yours, her right hand presses her ripped face, the other makes its slow way up to you, although she is trembling, she manages to keep her hand steady enough to hand you a little green flask with a yellow-y label; You look closer, 'treatment disinfectant' it says... Oh you can only be joking. You feel like slaughtering the girl right this instant, but takes in a deep breath and holds the flask, her hand immediately falling along with her body. Is she dead? No, her slow yet consistent breathing exclaims that she is still alive – you honestly find it a bit offensive – You should, but you cannot bring yourself to finish the human; you should end her suffering, but now she caught your attention; and besides, she wants to help, doesn't she? then the price she'll pay is staying alive.

———

hahaaa I'm so nervous about posting this,,, ,

and yes! It is a alcina x maiden fic! I do plan it to be slow burn, and if some you liked it and read it till here, please like and/or reblog and I'll post chapter 2!

( posted on Ao3! Name: “The woman in your castle” )

( chapter 2 posted!! )

[ravenpureforever]

So my Thai BL rabbit hole continues with me watching Cutie Pie! Had a brief break after the dumpster fire of My Engineer because my brain melted a little and also the Fall Semester started. Once again I came here because of Perth. I came here solely for Perth and the most I knew about it was apparently it advocates for gay marriage we continue with Cutie Pie! Because of Perth. I came here solely for Perth and all I knew was that it advocated for gay marriage so once again I was flying in blind

 Yet I was hooked within the first 10 minutes and had such an incredible time

Cutie Pie walked so KinnPorsche could run

First of all,

This was unexpectedly spicy. Not like KinnPorsche ghost pepper levels, but it had a nice kick to it, a lovely jalapeño, I had no clue it was going to do that and was such a pleasant surprise when the content warning showed up

I could be biased because My Engineer had such a chaotic start and this actually like has real build up to plot and explained the characters and their situations and it was actually compelling but the first episode is so good and such a solid start.

Maybe I’m kind of projecting here, but I absolutely adore Kuea, like him trying to be soften all of his edges and smooth his roughness in the hopes his fiance will keep loving him, so that his parents will be proud of him, it just breaks me a little watching him be torn between his true self and the one he thinks the people he loves want to be. I think Kuea should get to go feral, as a treat. He deserves to go feral after trying to be sweet and obedient for the sake of others. Also he rides a motorcycle and wears a leather jacket and I’m weak to that

-I liked the pleasant surprise that my initial predictions were wrong. Originally I thought it was going to be Kuea breaks the engagement and fully embraces his true self and goes feral and then Lian would get to know the real him and fall in love and they’d get back together. But instead Lian was in love with Kuea the whole time, knew who the real Kuea was and wanted Kuea to stop acting and be honest with him, was genuinely so shocked when he found out Kuea thought he wasn’t in love with him (because Lian is kind of a dumbass) and how they’ve always loved each other, it’s just grown and changed over the years and the real plot was them finding their way back to each other and understanding the honesty they need if this was ever going to work. Took me by such a surprise and it was so sweet and fun to watch

- I really do love how Kuea is like “you don’t love me even though I love you? Fine! Let’s call this while engagement off then!” Like no begging, no pleading, just getting straight to the point immediately

-“I want to marry a human. I don’t want to marry a doll.” SHOTS HAVE BEEN FUCKING FIRED

-“I’m not in love with him.” “Why don’t you break it off then???” “Well you see I told  to his family about still loving Kuea like I did when I was a kid and decided to fulfill the grandpas dying wish of always taking Kuea after seeing Kuea breakdown at his funeral after he even didn’t know he was sick and will take care of him forever” BRO WHAT THE FUCK

- Emotionally repressed men ruining their love lives let’s go

Once again seeing Perth is always very exciting and I was so happy when he showed up on screen but this time I am loving the main characters

-Any time Perth speaks English I’m like yeah the director knows what they’re doing here

-*Kuea drunkenly arguing with his fiancé* “Jay come help me!”                             Jay clearly not wanting to get involved: Hahaha I am suddenly deaf

-Jay lying through his teeth about how he betrayed his bestie to his fiancé, I love him

- OH MY GOD DOES JAY ACTUALLY KNOW THE FIANCE

-Jay is a constant mood of woops I can’t read, whoops I can’t hear, whoops I don’t see anything

- Jay really being the only one here that’s gotten laid. He’s also the only one with the braincell. I see the correlation here

-He’s really like that’s nice disaster gays, anyway-

Everyone here is a lying liar who lies and there definitely are not going to be consequences to that, definitely not

- Have I ever lied to do you” BRO YOU GUYS HAVE LITERALLY SPENT 80% of THE TIME LYING TO EACH OTHER

- MY BROTHER IN CHRIST YOU LITERALLY TOLD HIM LIKE A WEEK AGO YOU DIDNT LOVE HIM DID YOU JUST FORGET THAT YOU DUMBASS MAN

- No one knows how to communicate in this show do they? Literally no one, you’re all so dumb

-Are you guys finally realizing communication is key?? Nope you take one step forward and three steps back!

Yi and Diao had such a fun dumpster fire of a relationship and watching them go all sweet and sappy and honest was such a treat because everything about them was a little bit of a trainwreck and I found it very fun

-Everything around them was shrouded in mystery of what the fuck is going on with you guys,,,is-is this like a sugar daddy relationship??? How do you know each other???

-”It doesn’t matter if I love Diao or not” Sir I guarantee you it does, I promise you it’s very important

- AMNESIA SUBPLOT????? SECRET AMNESIA SUBPLOT??????

-That’s not a band-aid for our communication issues, that’s a dog!

-The “please don’t eat my dog” was one of the funniest things

-Watching them finally communicate and get spicy was lovely thank you very much, love that they finally get domestic bliss, they better be next in line for marriage

Overall though:

- I love how both Kuea & Diao are like yes, we’re totally just good sweet boys: *actually a motorcycle loving automotive engineer majoring singer and black belt in like taekwondo respectively that could probably easily kick their secretly very sensitive, worry wart love interest asses if they really wanted to and tried*

-Honestly Kuea & Diao’s friendship was the absolute best and was one of my favorite parts of the whole show

-The attempted exorcism was so fun, I adored Syn and thought his little romantic subplot was adorable

-Honestly the friend group was a treat, and I like how the brought to attention some of the more uncomfy jokes that are used and were like “hey man, that’s not really cool, please don’t do that” and Ton was apologetic and stopped when he realized he was hurting people

-Nuchy should’ve been a lesbian. It’s what she deserved

-Foei better be making bank, I adored and loved him so much, he was the audience insert wingman and you know he was rooting for them the entire time, such a great character

-Ding dong the sound of falling in love

-Ooooo marriage speech marriage speech!!! *Shows up every couple episodes*

-Y’all really making out in front of other people when you drink huh???

-RIP TO ALL OF THE FRIENDS PUTTING UP WITH THEIR RELATIONSHIP BS, JAY, UNIVERSITY BESTIES, LIAN’S BESTIES YOU ALL DESERVE A REWARD I WOULDVE FUCKING LEFT

-Genuine question: what was with the whole Annabelle thing??? Why was that a nickname specifically beyond just a doll?? Did we ever get an explanation for that I just missed it??? Is there some context I don’t know??? What was that whole nickname supposed to be doing???

-God I love watch people be in love and silly and sappy with it

-ooo angsty backstories

-God finally some good fucking communication and be truly honest with each other, only 12 episodes

-Final episode is making it all worth ngl

-I am here for the gay proposal shenanigans and I am here for Kuea living as his honest self and great fashion choices

-So many ups and downs and miscommunications and chaos and drama and we finally, finally getting them being fully open and honest with one another and they are finally on equal footing. No one is holding most of the cards anymore, there are no more secrets between them, their souls are finally fully bared and vulnerable, no more lying, they can truly be together and love each other as they are and live their truth

-Hahaha this ending is going to make me cry

In conclusion:

It was such a good series and I had such a genuinely fun time watch it. It had a lot of great tropes I adore: arranged marriage, childhood friend to lovers, mutually unrequited love because their dumb asses.

I really adored all of the couples and thought they were all fun and sweet and cute and I had so much fun with the friend groups and all the different character dynamics

I loved the overall message of love and acceptance and communication intertwined and the argument for marriage equality, I really, really enjoyed it!! 2022 is a great year for spicy Thai BL, huh?

Also between Kim and Kuea I’m really starting to wonder if I should invest in a silver chain necklace and a leather jacket because that’s like my ideal aesthetic

[navegandoaciegas]

Lock and Key

Pairing: priest!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You own the key to Father James’ pleasure, quite literally.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, 18+ content, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm control (chastity cage), dom!reader, one slap on the face, unprotected sex. It’s all consensual.

Father James is on his knees, head hung low, chestnut tendrils framing his stubbled cheeks.

He’s a sobbing, trembling mess, naked except for the cross around his neck, the collar that chains him to the handcuffs around his wrists, and the chastity cage that’s been restricting his aching cock for days.

The shiny, golden lock sits prettily against the coarse hair on his pubic bone, its matching key perched between your tits, tantalizing him.

A needy whimper shakes his body when you spread your legs, revealing your glistening cunt to his hungry eyes.

“Such a sinner, aren’t you, Father? Breaking your vows like this,” you tut, shaking your head, “You want to touch me, don’t you? Want to feel my tight pussy around your cock, want to fill me up with your cum and watch it drip out of my hole?”

“God, yes, please. Please,” he whines, so desperately that you almost give in. You can’t let him yet: he needs the control you have over him, and the punishments you put him through, just as much as you do.

“Let me feel you, touch you, please angel,” he keeps blabbering, tears pooling in his crystal eyes, “I need you. Let me please you, I’ll be so good to you, I promise.”

“You know you’ve gotta work for that, baby boy,” you hum, cocking your head to the side, “Be a good puppy and show me how bad you want me.”

He nods eagerly, and crawls toward his desk, settling himself at your feet between your spread legs. He inhales a deep breath, and looks at you through half lidded eyes, waiting for your permission.

“Go ‘head.” you urge him.

He doesn’t waste any time before he dives in your dripping wet cunt, delving his tongue in your folds. He eats you out like a starved man, lapping at every drop of your tangy arousal.

The pressure builds steadily in your lower belly, until your walls are burning and throbbing and you’re barely coherent.

“Fuck, baby, you’ve gotten so good at this.” you moan, clutching his hair and tugging at the roots, eliciting a low growl out of him.

The vibration travels straight to your core, making your walls clench around nothing.

You grind your hips against his face, fucking yourself on his pretty pink lips and moaning like a possessed woman, loud enough that God himself could hear you.

“Yes, yes, just like that,” you hiss through gritted teeth, arching your back when he licks a straight line from your entrance to your bud, “Fuck, harder.”

He doubles his efforts then, moaning on your pussy, latching on your swollen clit, teeth barely grazing the sensitive skin around it. He sucks on the bud, tongue swirling between your lips.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, yes,” you shriek, throwing your head back and biting down on your lower lip.

The orgasm is earth shattering, and shakes you from the core to your limbs. The tight coil in your belly snaps, and you gush on his face, covering his mouth and chin with your slick as praises fall from your lips.

Your good boy, perfect, sweet boy.

You see him tug against the handcuffs, accidentally choking himself. A high pitched cry of frustration leaves his lips as he ruts his hips forward, chasing a release he can’t reach. You know it makes him feral, arousal clouding his judgement.

He hasn’t been able to touch his cock, or have a hard on, in days, and he won’t until you decide to let him.

You’re the key to his pleasure, but you intend to keep him caged and desperate a little longer.

“Two more, puppy. I’m sure you can give me two more, don’t you think so?”

He gets to work immediately, and your chuckle at his eagerness.

His tongue prods at your entrance, and he swipes his nose over your clit. Lewd noises soon fill the office. He keeps sucking, lapping, slurping you up until you’re shaking and singing his name, completely debauched.

He brings you over the edge again, and your vision almost blacks out at the intensity of your orgasm.

“Fuck, look at you, so fuckin’ pretty on your knees,” you pant, grunting when he resumes working your cunt with his tongue, “What would the people say if they saw their priest-, fuck, yes, right there-, their priest eat some girl out in the back of the church, right after Sunday mass? No fuckin’ shame you have, puppy. Cross still around your neck.”

Your clit is tender and overstimulated, and his stiff tongue on it is making you writhe and double over above him.

“Couldn’t even wait till Monday,” you snarl, feeling the muscles of your lower belly tighten again, “couldn’t wait to get on your knees for me. I bet you’ve thought about me all weekend, haven’t you?”

You bite your lips, willing yourself to hold back your third orgasm, even though the pleasure he’s giving you is maddening.

“I bet you wanted to reach in your pants and stroke your cock thinking of me, but you couldn’t. Bet that was real frustrating.”

You grip his face, and he looks up at you, red faced and soaked in your release.

“Answer me when I talk to you,” you bark, slapping his face.

You never hit him hard enough to hurt him, just loud enough that the sound bounces off the walls, the way that makes his cock jump.

He whines, fidgeting on the spot, “Yes, I wanted to touch myself for you, angel.”

“Good boy, now gimme one more, and maybe I’ll free you and touch you myself, would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, please, angel, I’ll do anything.”

A slow, adorning smile spreads on your lips. You caress the sticky, sweaty hair away from his forehead as he brings his face between your legs again.

Kissing, worshipping your cunt until the knot in your core unravels, and you’re so overstimulated that your clit is tender and even his breath between your legs hurts.

You sit there, panting, James’ head resting on your lap.

“You’ve been so good, baby boy. So good for me.” you praise, lowering yourself to his level.

His eyes are blown out, darkened by lust, his cheeks are flushed and stained with dry tears, and his chest is heaving.

You twirl the golden key between your fingers, James’ eyes following the movements carefully.

“You deserve to feel good too,” you say, “It’s okay to feel good baby, you understand that?”

You bring his wrists to your lips, tenderly pecking the skin. He nods, lips wobbling a little.

“I need the reminder, sometimes.”

You make quick work of freeing him of the handcuffs and collar, trailing soft kisses from his shoulder to his collarbones, up to his neck, jaw, behind his ears, down again to his nipples, revelling in the way he shudders under your touch.

You roam your hands down to his abs, reaching for the steel cage around him.

“What do you want?” you ask, nibbling one of his stiff nipples between your teeth.

“Get me out, please. I want you so much.” he begs, brushing his knuckles over your hips.

You reach for the key around your neck, painstakingly slow. It clicks when you open the lock, and James takes a deep breath in anticipation. After unfastening the ring around his base and balls, you slip his soft cock out of the cage.

He groans in relief, resting his head in the crook of your neck as you stroke the velvety skin of his length in twisting motions.

The kiss you share is slow and sweet until it’s not, until blood flows back to his cock and he hardens in your hand, achingly swollen and leaking at the tip.

“Please, angel. I need you so bad, need to be inside you now. I’ll be good.”

You nod, and sit back on the desk, spreading your legs for him to settle between.

Your breath gets knocked out of you when he sheathes himself inside you, your slick walls fluttering and accommodating his girth.

You missed the stretch of his cock, the burn of it inside your pussy as he thrusts in and out of you, the slow build up to the throbbing pressure in your core.

You bite his skin, scratch his back, pinch his nipples. Praise him, love him.

His hands worship your body, tenderly caressing every inch of your skin.

“Please let me cum, angel, I need to cum inside you.” he whines, hips stuttering.

You feel him swell inside you, and your own orgasm near.

“Fuck, baby, cum inside me, lemme feel you, fill me up with all your fuckin’ cum.”

With a couple more thrusts, he cums inside you, filling you up to the brim with his release. His orgasm triggers your own, and you cling to his shoulders, eyes rolling to the back of your brain.

His pleasure wrecks him so much that he slumps against you, gasping for air. You can feel his heart beat wildly against your arm.

“Can you hold me?” he whispers, voice soft.

You stay locked in each others' embrace, basking in the warmth of your sweat slicked skin until you both start shiver, and dress again.

You help him in his cassock, fastening the white collar around your neck.

“Did you mean it? When you said I deserve to feel good?” he asks, rubbing his nose against yours.

You hum, pecking his lips.

“You deserve the world, baby boy.”

—

Read more priest!Bucky on my masterlist!

A/N: someone on ao3 suggested that punishment might help priest!bucky deal with the guilt of breaking his vows, and I couldn’t agree more! so this is the result.

I hope you guys liked it. Please leave some feedback!