#The Greed Of Fallen Gods

[the-writings-of-kaos]

The Greed of Fallen Gods Chapter 1

(A reiteration of my previous story, the title surmised as “protagonist with an itchy trigger finger,” re-written towards improving my writing.)

It was dark, dry, and cold. The sand billowed in the wind, sending choking clouds of sand into the piercing wind as the lost soul slowly marched through the barren sands. He was hungry and exhausted, and he could hardly stay awake in the frigid cold of the desert night. Consciousness faded in and out until, finally, blackness.

——————

He sat up; his bag was gone, and so was most of his gear. Looking around, he saw- nothing, no white, no black, just a complete lack of all sense and stimulation. Then, he blinked, and an entire sky filled with stars above and below him, surrounding him wholly and utterly.

“Greetings, human, I am Falafel! The goddess of luck! Congratulations on becoming my champion!”

As soon as the words echoed the seemingly endless space of starry void, a ting young girl, definitely no older than 6, appeared from thin air.

Blinking, I took a moment to catch up to the situation.

‘Okay… I’m hanging here weightlessly, and this little girl claims to be a goddess. There is- this can’t be real. Assuming it isn’t real, it must be some rich man’s little girl. If I play along- maybe they’ll pay me.’

“Am I finally back in the realm of the gods? It’s been so long; I had forgotten how it looked.”

‘Take the bait, take the bait- take the bait!’

“Wait- what did you just say?”

She looked puzzled, startled even, listening patiently for the mortal to answer her.

“Oh, my apologies; I don’t look like myself these days. I am the god of greed; I believe I went by the name Hastur back in the old days. If you don’t mind me asking- how long has it been since I was cast out by that rebellious twat during the civil pantheon war?”

Overwhelmed by all this information, Falafel shook and stepped back for fear of offending the ancient being.

“It has been- a very long time… I wasn’t born then, so I didn't see the war. Umm- mister, if you’re the great and powerful Hastur, why are you inhabiting this human vessel?”

‘This is going better than I thought.’

“Ah, you see, when I was cast out, you might have been told he had killed me, but that was much more elaborate than what happened. In truth, he cut me in shreds and scattered my undying pieces to the stars. I am one of the larger pieces.”

Falafel nodded, the young goddess taking in all of the information.

“Right… so that means… you’re a broken god right now?”

“I suppose that is one way to look at it.”

I took a moment to write down the story I had come up with in a notebook, which I then realized had just- appeared in my hand for me to use, along with the pencil I was writing with.

“Oh! It seems being back here has brought back my summoning abilities; I even brought back my grimoire!”

Falafel couldn’t help but giggle at my feigned excitement.

“Say, mister, can I call you gramps?”

“That sounds lovely.”

I’d fake a smile, the dagger of being called gramps slowly digging into my soul.

“Oh, this must be fate sent by Clotho! I knew she would help me!”

“Pardon? Is my summoning convienient?”

“Yes! Listen, Gramps, I’m technically not a goddess yet. After you were scattered to the stars, the rebel god killed many other ancient gods before finally being struck down by the champions of the gods of creation, life, and death. Time passed, and holy beings began popping up all over the place! I’m one of them! But since there are so many, I need to prove I can take on the responsibility of being a new goddess!”

“Goodness, then it sounds like I must prove myself again. But that doesn’t sound very convenient for you; I can’t possibly vouch for you in this state.”

I listened carefully, waiting to hear what she wanted me to do.

“Then you’ll act as my champion! You’re just a human right now, but if you help me as my champion, I’m sure you could prove yourself and then vouch for me in kind! Greed and Luck! Hand in hand!”

‘This kid, so dam charismatic.’

“Alright, kid! You’ve got yourself a deal!”

I shake her hand, and she shakes mine, a green and white magic circle glowing beneath us momentarily, signifying the deal was made. Seeing that, however, and the book that appeared in my hand, I was beginning to doubt whether all this was fake or not.

‘That felt oddly powerful- this might not be fake. Dammit, too late now, fake it till you make it, that’s what they say, right?’

——————

Thus ends chapter 1

As always, comments and advice are appreciated!

[darabeatha]

Absolutely feral that after getting kicked from heaven and falling down for 9 whole days (and then staying burning in agony in a pit of fire down in hell for another 9 days) s.atan and his army of millions of fallen angels just crawl from the shores of hell, decide to make a hugeass palace for themselves and then discuss what the heck are they going to do now, only to come to the conclusion that the way to hurt god the most would be to destroy his newest creation (men) which from then on they can further take on earth and make it their new kingdom (bc during the council, one of the fallen angels argued that even if they made a new kingdom in hell, at the end of the day they are still essentially 'trapped' in a box, so would that even count as a triumph?)

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Headcanon: Worship

Yandere Forgotten God (tentacle monster) x GN Reader

TW: Tentacles, teratophillia, gore, dubcon, and yandere themes

He was an ancient chaos god, one that was once revered amongst humans a millennium ago. But over time he had been forgotten when his fishing village had become a city. Now he was nothing more than a tall tale. A god with no name. He no longer had a humanoid form but was now a blob of black tentacles. It was shameful how far he had fallen from grace from his own pride. He should have made sure he was never forgotten.

The god shouldn’t have been so cocky to believe that monk couldn’t seal him away but alas, this was the punishment he deserved for his insatiable greed.

So when you arrive to his shrine and accidentally break the millennium old ward, he’s shocked. Have his own prayers finally been answered? Has someone come to free him from this lonely existence?

“I’ve heard there was once a god of chaos here so I have come to pray to you… please hear my plea.” You then bowed down in respect to the shrine and cried a bit. “I do not wish to be married off to some senile, corrupt man. Please god, if you hear me, save me.” You cried before him. You wanted to be saved before married you off to some old nobleman. You shared your woes of how this man made your city nearly inhabitable with his high taxes and of his salacious behavior. How could he not be swayed? He felt obligated to help you.

And so the god did what he did best, he wreaked havoc. He used his supernatural abilities to cause a landslide onto that nobleman’s home, killing him instantly. Now you no longer had to worry about being a stupid old man’s property. You could continue on with your life worshipping him! Your god!

You visited his shrine daily and left him small offerings. Ones that he would have rejected in the past but was positively thrilled to have now. The god began to love you. How could he not be drawn to your genuine gratitude? He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been this thrilled with him… it must’ve been over a thousand years ago now? He didn’t know…

What he loved most about you was your smile. It warmed his heart and he adored it. You were his world and he wanted to be more humanoid for you…

When your visits became less frequent, he used that time away from you to try to shape his body once more. He wanted to be with you. To hold you. To touch you, but he couldn’t do that as a shapeless blob of tentacles… but he could if he was more humanoid.

And so here he was with a mostly humanoid body with functioning male reproductive organs… save for the tentacles that remained attached to his back. His face was picturesque but his extra limbs weren’t… it didn’t matter. He would do so much for you, more than any human man. You didn’t entirely have a choice.

The god diligently worked on his shrine to make it more inhabitable for you as well. He needed it to be perfect so the two of you could be here for all eternity together. Him and his savior! His beloved devotee!

When you returned to his shrine after a week of not seeing him with bruises on your face, he was livid. Who had harmed you? Why would they hurt you? Hurt his destined spouse? How dare they… how dare they.

You shared your woes and prayed for salvation once more, this time from your family. They believed you to now be bad luck due to the nobleman’s sudden death and began to verbally and physically abuse you. You looked so miserable… just like him. His poor, precious worshipper didn’t deserve such treatment. No. They deserved to be worshipped.

The god now had enough power to leave his shrine due to your generous offerings. Your worship gave him the power to become a great chaos god once more.

And the god once more inflicted his wrath upon your enemies. This time he tore them apart limb from limb, starting from their mouths to their hands and eventually to their feet. He wished to start out by ripping out the tongues that spat venomous words at you. To break every bone in their hands and feet for the pain they inflicted on you. For every sin committed against you, he would inflict it back tenfold.

This is the first time you were able to see his true form as well… you were so silent the entire time of his massacre of your family. Was he so gorgeous that you were speechless? How cute his darling was!

You began to sob when he held your face between his blood coated palms. The smell of iron was too much for you that you began to retch but he was oblivious that he was the reason of your disgust and fear. Those damn humans must be too much for you to be around… perhaps he should whisk his spouse away?

So he did just that. His arms and tentacles tightly wrapped around you as he whisked you off to your new home together. The revamped shrine. He hoped you’d love it since he worked so hard on making it habitable for the two of you!

You struggle in his grip but he doesn’t relent. You must be shy… how cute!

You try to push the tentacles from you, but they merely wrap around your form to gently massage you. He needed to calm you before you hurt yourself… it was okay!

“Be not afraid, my dear.” His voice made you jump in surprise but he chuckled. “I’m not going to hurt you… you’re my beloved after all. My savior.”

“You’re the god of this shrine…” you whispered softly, which made the god eagerly nod. “You’re Xeros.”

Yes! That was his name! The one he had forgotten over the years. You were so sweet to remember his name…

You don’t even have time to protest before his tentacles wrap around your body in an enticing manner. The extra appendages slip into the waist band of your pants and tease your tight hole. You whine at the sudden touch but more tentacles wrap around your arms and legs to keep you in place

“Your offerings were wonderful but I need a better offering since I eliminated your problem…” Xeros smiled down at you with his hauntingly beautiful face. “I demand you as my offering. You will be my eternal spouse.”

“But I’m just a human- ack!” You gagged on the tentacle that was suddenly shoved into your mouth. Your eyes welled up with tears as the god beamed at you.

“It doesn’t matter to me what species you are. I’m a god. I will always get what I want.” Your back arched when one of his slimy tentacles finally breeched the tight ring of muscles and wriggled inside of you. You moaned loudly at the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that overcame you.

“See? Why would you resist such pleasure?” Xeros leaned to whisper, his hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, “I’m far better than any mortal lover. Don’t you think so?”

Your mind is too cloudy to form a coherent reply, your eyes rolled back in you head as his black tendrils ravish you. The tentacle in your mouth soon replaced with his tongue.

This was the way you should always be. You deserved every orifice of your body to be stuffed to the brim with him. To cry and whine in pleasure that ascends human comprehension. To be his spouse and to lay his eggs.

You deserved to be worshipped as his deity

[giftofshewbread]

2 Ways Satan Destroys You/Faith

1. PAIN

2. Pleasure

Satan kills you & your faith both ways..

1. Causing you so much Pain (in all it’s many forms) that you Curse/Fall Away/Reject God.

2. Giving you so much Pleasure ( in all it’s many forms) that you forget God.

Satan/Devil/Lucifer, HATES mankind and his soul purpose is to destroy/eliminate Every Man, Woman & Child and He does this in countless ways, He is the Father of Lies after all. He also comes as an angel of light, deceiving, as if he is good, giving you all you desire, only he is poison, he is a cancer, he is a destroyer, he’s murderer and again, his soul mission is to wipe out all mankind and keep you from the Creator, the Father, God, The Great ‘I Am’, Jesus, he knows his days are numbered and he also knows he get one great chance to engulf this world in the greatest evil ever, we can’t imagine and God is clear, says in His Scriptures, that mankind’s hearts will fail instantly at the sight of such great evil that is soon to be unleashed, YES, it’s this bad/evil, the mere sight will drop many in their tracks, most will not survive what’s coming...

God/Jesus is our only great Hope and Time is Very Short, Jesus is soon to appear in the sky, ( Rapture ) call his true beloved followers home before all hell breaks loose, YES, Jesus is Coming, the Rapture is Imminent, Don’t be left behind.... God Help Us All !

[anthurak]

As someone who was very curious as to how Mammon was going to be presented in Helluva Boss, you can probably imagine I was looking through the new episode very closely.

And while I may have been off the mark with my theory that Mammon would follow the trend of Asmodeus and Beelzebub and NOT actually be antagonistic, I nonetheless think it is VERY interesting how Vivzie and the team handled and presented him.

Specifically, in just how PETTY Mammon is shown to be in this episode.

Like really think about what you might generally expect from a character like Mammon just from a basic background description: He is one of the seven rulers of Hell, lord of the seven rings and embodiment of GREED. Likely a fallen angel who helped to create hell as it exists today, is matched in power only by his five fellow Sins, and is functionally only truly outranked by Lucifer himself.

And yet, Mammon’s characterization in this episode presents him as this petty, selfish, manipulative asshole interested in little more than money and attention. He acts more like a shitty, full-of-himself asshole celebrity than a demon lord. Just look at how he manipulates Fizzerolli, not through lording power and authority over him but through emotional coercion like an abusive parent, ex-, or boss, which is precisely WHAT he is presented as. fi

What makes this even more interesting is that despite Mammon being characterized as Fizz’s petty, manipulative boss, we nonetheless see him display all the POWER and experience we’d expect from one of the seven rulers of Hell. Asmodeus mentions earlier in the episode that he’s known Mammon ‘since the START of Hell’, confirming they were both involved in its creation, and when the two square off at the end, it’s clear that Mammon is very much Ozzie’s EQUAL in power, and that everyone else present is pretty much an insect in comparison.

This is what I think makes the inclusion of that one creepy, obsessive fan of Fizzerolli’s in this episode so significant; he serves as a point of comparison to Mammon.

For all the power and authority that he might wield, Mammon is characterized as being no different/better than a creepy, manipulative, entitled and obsessive stalker.

I think this might be the true common ‘thru-line’ connecting all of the seven sins through Helluva Boss and possibly even Hazbin Hotel: That despite essentially being ‘God-Emperors’ of Hell and outclassed in power likely only by the most powerful angels of Heaven itself, the seven sins are characterized in a very grounded, down-to-earth and for lack of a better term, ‘human’ way.

All the times we’ve seen them, Ozzie, Bee and Mam haven’t presented themselves as these all-powerful beings lording themselves over their subjects like we might expect or even what we’ve seen of the Goetic nobility. They don’t present themselves as ‘royalty’ but rather more like celebrity performers, which is certainly in keeping with Vivzie’s comments about how Hell is meant to represent a circus.

It really gives this fascinating dichotomy to the Sins as characters, where they’re presented as these big wacky celebrities with big, over-the-top personas which in turn hide very grounded, down-to-earth people underneath. While at the same time still being these monstrously powerful and ancient beings whose dominion over Hell is entirely uncontested.

It also gives them a nice contrast with the Goetic Nobility and the Sinner Overlords. Like those two groups actually do act and present themselves like demonic ‘royalty’ who lord themselves over those considered ‘beneath’ them, while in reality they’re at best the ‘middle-managers’, and instead it’s these wacky characters who are the TRUE masters of Hell.

It may even continue into what we might see in Hazbin Hotel, what with Charlie being this bubbly, happy-go-lucky Disney-esque princess who also may very well have power outclassing literally EVERYONE else in the show apart from her parents.

Overall, I loved this episode and I think we may now have a good idea what we might expect from the other Sins, and possibly even Lucifer himself in Hazbin Hotel.

[cerezzzita]

— aesthetic words to fill up your vocabulary ♡

✦ if you're tired of using the same repetitive words to describe feelings or actions on your writing, here are some aesthetic words that are not frequently used to help you evolve your vocabulary better and also maybe help you with creative titles <3

ABENDROT: the color of the sky while the sun is setting.

ABIENCE: the strong urge to avoid someone or something.

ACHROOUS: colourless.

AEQUOREAL: marine, oceanic.

AESTHETE: someone with deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature.

ALIFEROUS: having wings.

AMITY: warmth and heartfelt friendliness in a friendship; mutual understanding and a peaceful relationship.

AMORIST: someone who is in love; someone who writes about love.

AMBROSIAL: fragrant, delicious.

ANTHOMANIA: great love for flowers.

AQUAPHILE: someone who is an enthusiast of all things related to the water.

ARENOCOLOUS: living or burrowing in sand.

ASPERSE: change falsely or with malicious intent; attack the good name and reputation of someone.

ASTERISM: agroup of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars.

ATTAR: essential oil or perfume obtained from flowers.

AUREATE: golden or gilded; brilliant, splendid.

AURICOMUS: with golden or yellow colored foliage.

AVIOTHIC: the strong desire to be up in the air or to fly.

BALTER: to dance artlessly, without particular grace and/or skill but usually with enjoyment.

BATHIC: pertaining to depths, especially of sea.

BELAMOUR: the one who is loved; a beloved person.

BELLICOSTIC: aggressive, belligerent, warlike.

BENEFICENCE: the quality of being kind or helpful or generous.

BERCEUSE: a quiet song intended to lull a child to sleep.

BLÁFAR: indicating the freshness and beauties of youth or health; attractive and possessing charm.

BRONTIDE: the low rumble of a distant thunder.

BURBLE: to speak in an excited manner.

CAELITIS: the divinities who dwell within the celestial planes.

CATHARSIS: the release of emotional tension, especially through kinds of art or music.

CELERITOUS: swift, speedy, fast.

CERAUNOPHILIA: loving thunder and lightning and finding them intensely beautiful.

CHEVELURE: the nebulous tail of a comet.

CINGULOMANIA: a strong desire to hold a person in your arms.

COCCINEOUS: bright red; scarlet.

COCKAIGNE: an imaginary land of luxury and idleness.

CONSTELLATE: to eluster; to compel by stellar influence.

COSMOGYRAL: whirling around the universe.

CORDOLIUM: heartache; heartfelt sorrow.

CORUSCATE: to reflect brillantly, to sparkle.

CRAMOISY: of a crimson color.

CREATURELY: a person who is controlled by others and is used to perform unpleasant or dishonest tasks for someone else.

CRYSTALLOMANIA: an obsession with crystals and other crystalline objects.

CHRYSALISM: the amnotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.

CLINQUANT: glittering with gold and silver.

CLYSMIC: cleaning, washing.

CUPIDITY: greed for money or possessions.

CYANEOUS: a sky-blue color.

CYNOSURE: guiding star; a object of common interest.

DARKLING: of or related to darkness.

DÉCLASSÉ: having fallen in social status.

DEIFORM: god-like or divine in nature.

DEMERSAL: that lives near the bottom or a body of water.

DESIDERIUM: an ardent longing, as for something lost.

DISPITEOUS: cruel and without mercy.

DOUX: sweet, soft, mild, gentle.

DRACONTINE: belonging to a dragon.

DYSANIA: the state of finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning.

ECCEDENTESIAST: someone who fakes a smile.

EFFLORESCENCE: a period or state of blooming, blossoming.

ELEGY: a poem of serious reflection, typically a lament for the dead.

ELEUTHEROPHILIST: someone who advocates free love.

ELYSIAN: beautiful or creative, divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

EMACITY: desire or fondness for buying things.

EMPYREAL: pertaining to the sky; celestial.

EPHIALTES: a nightmare; the demon Incubus that supposedly causes a nightmare.

EPICARICACY: the joy that results from others misfortune.

EREMOPHOBIA: the deep fear of stillness, solitude, or deserted places.

ETHEREAL: extremely delicate, light, not of this world.

EUMOIRIETY: happiness due to state of innocence and purity.

FLORENTIS: abounding in flowers; being in bloom and adorned with plentiful flowers.

FREICEADAN: guard, garrison, watch, sentinal.

FULMINATE: cause to explode violently and with loud noise.

FURCIFEROUS: brat; rascally, scandalous.

GLOAMING: twilight, dusk.

GRAME: anger, wrath, scorn; sorrow, grief, misery.

HALCYON: calm and peaceful; happy, prosperous.

HELLION: a rowdy or mischievous person.

HELIOPHILIA: desire to stay in the sun; love of sunlight.

HEAVENIZE: to render like heaven or fit for heaven, to purify and make a holy place or a person.

HENOTIC: promoting harmony or peace.

HIRAETH: a homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.

HOLILY: belonging to or derived from or associated with a divine power.

HYPNAGOGIC: the state immediately before falling asleep.

IGNICOLIST: a worshiper of fire.

ILLECEBROUS: attractive and alluring.

IMPLUVIOUS: soaked with rain.

INCANDESCENCE: light produced by high temperatures.

INCALESCENCE: the property of being warming.

INCENDIARY: designed for the purpose of causing a fire, likely to cause anger or violence.

INEFFABLE: too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.

INSOUCIANT: free from worry, concern or anxiety.

IRENIC: aiming or aimed at peace, promoting peace.

IRIDESCENT: producing a display of rainbow-like colors.

INVIDIARE: to envy.

ISOLOPHILIA: a strong preference and affection for solitude.

KALOPSIA: the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are.

KALON: beauty that is more than skin deep.

LACONIC: expressing much in a few words.

LACUNA: a blank space; a missing part.

LATIBULE: a hiding place, a place of safety and comfort.

LAMBENT: to glow or flicker softly. Luminous, light or brilliant.

LIMERENCE: the state of being infatuated with another person.

LONGANIMITY: still suffering while planning revenge.

LOUCHE: disreputable; morally dubious.

LUCELENCE: the state of being fine and beautiful; shining, brilliant.

LUCIFORM: resembling light in appearance; having, in some respects; the nature of qualities of light.

LUMINESCENCE: light produced by chemical, electrical or physiological means.

MALTALENT: the negative emotions of wanting injury or harm to befall someone; a hostile behavior or attitude towards someone considered an enemy.

MARMORIS: the shining surface of the ocean.

MAZARINE: a dark blue color; rich blue or reddish-blue color.

MELIORISM: the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world.

MÉLOMANIE: an excessive and abnormal love and deep attraction to music and melody.

MERCURIAL: subject to sudden or unpredictable changes.

MESMERIC: appealing; drawing attention.

MORDACIOUS: biting or given to biting; biting or sharp in manner; caustic; capable of wounding.

MORPHEAN: of or relating to Morpheus, to dreams, or to sleep.

MOXIE: courage, nerve, determination.

NEBULOCHAOTIC: a state of being hazy and confused.

NEFARIOUS: wicked, villainous, despicable.

NEMESISM: frustration, anger or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one's way of living.

NERITIC: pertaining to shallow coastal waters.

NOETIC: of or associated with or requiring the use of mind.

NOIRCEUR: the state of being pitch black in color; a state of lacking illumination.

NUBIVAGANT: wandering in the air, moving through the air.

NUMINOUS: spiritual or supernatural; surpassing comprehension or understanding; mysterious.

ONEIRODYNIA: restless, disturbed sleep, characterized by nightmares and sleepwalking.

OPHIOMORMOUS: snake-like.

ORPHIC: mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding.

PAVONINE: characteristic of a peacock; resembling the tail of a peacock; as in colors; iridescent.

PETRICHOR: the scent of rain on dry earth.

POIESIS: creation; creative power or ability.

PORPHYROUS: purple; of purple hue.

PLAXONDRY: the mix of introspective nostalgia, sadness, and calmness felt when listening vaporwave and its related genres.

PRATE: to talk excessively and pointlessly.

PROCELLOUS: tempestuous, stormy.

QUIDDITY: the essence of something.

QUIXOTIC: extravagantly chivalrous or romantic; visionary, impractical or impracticable.

RANTIPOLE: a wild, reckless young person; to be wild and reckless.

REDAMANCY: the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

REDOLENT: having a strong distinctive fragrance; serving to bring to mind.

REMEANT: coming back, returning.

RESPLENDENT: having brilliant or glowing appearance; dazzling and impressive in appearance through being richly colorful or sumptuous.

REVERIE: a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream.

RODOMEL: juice of roses mixed with honey.

ROSEATE: rose-like; overly optimistic.

RUTILANT: glowing or glittering with red or gold light.

SANGUINEOUS: accompanied by bloodshed.

SASHAY: to strut or move about in an ostentatious or conspicuous manner.

SCIAMACHY: a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow.

SEQUACIOUS: lacking independence of originality of thought.

SERAPHIC: beautiful and pure; having a sweet nature befitting an angel or a cherub; of or relating to an angel of the first order.

SERENDIPITY: finding something good without looking for it.

SKINT: having little or no money avaliable.

SOLIVAGANT: someone who wanders or travels the world alone; a solitary adventurer.

SOMNIATE: to dream, to make sleepy.

SORTIGER: delivering prophecies of the future; having the qualities of being oracular.

STELLIFEROUS: having or abonding with stars.

STELLIFY: to transform from an earthly body into a celestial body; to place in the sky as such.

SUCCIDUOUS: ready to fall, falling.

SPUME: a white mass of bubbles or froth on the top of a wave.

SYNODIC: relating to or involving the conjunction of stars, planets or other celestial objects.

TARANTISM: the uncontrollable urge to dance.

TEMENOS: a sacred circle where no one can be oneself without fear.

THANATOPHOBIA: fear of death.

TYYNEYS: the state of peacefulness; absent of worry or fear, being composed and at ease.

ULTRAMARINE: beyond the sea; greenish-blue color.

VELLEITY: a wish or inclination not strong enough to lead to action.

VENERATION: a profound emotion inspired by a deity.

VESPERTINE: in or of the evening; setting at the same time as, or just after, the sun.

VERDANT: with plants and flowers in abundance.

VERMEIL: a liquid composition applied to a gilded surface to give luster to the gold.

VERTICORDIOUS: to turn the heart from evil.

VIOLESCENT: tending toward violet color.

VORFREUDE: the joyful anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.

WANDERLUST: a strong desire to travel and explore the world.

WHIST: to hush or silence; to still, to become still.

cerezzzita©, 2022 · all rights reserved

[cheolism]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ GREED

✧ hoshi x f!reader ✧ summary: you go to bed feeling horny and decide to try and be quiet while you fuck yourself with your fingers while watching a video of soonyoung. too bad you're not as quiet as you think you are. ✧ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

✧ warnings: mean!dom!hoshi x sub!reader. messy sex, masturbation while he sleeps next to you, he films his own porn videos for you <3 true romance <3 pussy n tit slapping, spanking, rough handling. degradation (slut/whore), reprimanding. possibly free use, dumbification, cock-drunk reader, crying during sex n dacryphilia, spitting, missionary and doggy. cumming inside, unprotected sex. aftercare and cuddling!!

tagging @the-boy-meets-evil and @shuadotcom ; tag list: @coffeestay @tinkerbell460 @hyneyedfiz @wonuhour @sweet-like-caramel

with a groan you pushed the covers off of you, baring your skin to the cool air of your bedroom. soonyoung was quiet next to you, pillow in his arms. usually his soft snores helped guide you into sleep, helped your body ooze into slumber, but tonight seemed to be the exception. despite his snores, despite how the moon was high in the sky, you just couldn't sleep.

you were restless. despite how night blanketed the city, your body was wide awake and with no signs of sleeping.

soonyoung shifted next to you. you moved onto your side, watching as your boyfriend jostled the pillow in his arms. he moved to hold the pillow in one arm, his other reaching up towards the wall. he stretched, a low groan leaving his lips, and then he was still once more.

you let your eyes roam over him. soonyoung didn't wear clothes to bed -- tried to encourage you to do the same, saying that nothing made him more comfy than the feel of your skin against his. and because of his tendency towards sleeping in the nude and his stretching only moments prior, his lithe body was on full display for your eyes, the blanket having fallen to his waist.

though, you reflected, soonyoung wasn't exactly lithe anymore. his arms were thick with muscle and only growing by the day, veins on his forearms so delicious took look at. and his tits were growing more and more noticeable too, so much so that when he wore loose shirts they clung to his tits, to the shape of them, drawing your eyes and making it hard to look away.

and of course there were his abs. you weren't a shallow person, usually -- didn't drool over random men and their six packs, didn't get wet panties just from watching a man wash dishes.

but soonyoung? he was truly the exception.

just looking at his chest, watching his abs move up and down with each breath, eyes flickering over his tanned skin and taking in how the shadows of the room painted them even more prominently than they usually were, you couldn't help but feel wetness begin to stain your panties.

and just as visible as his abs and tits and face was his cock. it was flaccid, but even then soft his cock was thick and pretty. and his thighs, just as pretty as the rest of him with, thick muscle and your favorite seat to rest on.

god -- here your boyfriend was just sleeping and you were getting wet over his body. what did that say about you, you thought, hands drifting down to your sleeping shorts. what did that say about you, getting horny over your boyfriend while all he did was lay there and snore.

you cursed softly, and then you turned on the bed. you grabbed your phone and earbuds off of the nightstand. quickly you shoved your earbuds into your ears, unlocking your phone and going to that secret shared folder between you and soonyoung.

you went to a favorite one he had sent. his phone was propped up on a counter, pants shoved down underneath his dick and chest bare. his voice, deep and sly, filled your ears. "miss you, baby. gotta do what i do, okay? be a good girl for me and follow along."

if soonyoung asked for your obedience, even if it was past-him, you would give it. you adjusted yourself, fingers framing your clit. two of his own hands went to his dick, thick and dark; his thumb and forefinger focused on his head, softly rubbing, gently torturing himself.

you followed along. your forefinger and middle finger delicately dragged along the sides of your clit. as his fingers quickened, so did yours; as his cock leaked, your cunt followed suit, though your pussy leaked considerably more than his cock. soon enough, though you couldn't hear it due to your earbuds, your cunt was squelching with every move of your hand.

"fucking miss you," he growled, sucking his lower lip into his mouth for a moment. his dark bangs hung over his eyes as soonyoung bowed his head, thumb meanly pressing down on the slit of his cockhead. you followed suit, harshly thumbing at your clit in rapid movements.

"want your cunt so bad," he grumbled, one of his hands bracing against the counter. his veins in his arm bulged, thin hills running up his arms. "wanna fuck you so hard, fuck your sweet little puss -- fill you with my spunk, make sure you take every single fucking drop."

you swallowed, eyes zeroing in on his cock, knowing what would happen next, having seen it perhaps a hundred times before. he would keep his face low; his mouth would pucker. he would spit on his cock, saliva dropping and covering his tip. soonyoung would laugh, hand smearing over his dick. "wish it was your cunt covered in my spit and spunk instead of my dick."

but before any of that could happen -- before you were blessed with that image -- your phone was ripped from your hands.

you gasped, eyes shooting to soonyoung. he was moving against you before you could fully comprehend that he was awake.

"soonie --"

"what are you doing?" he demanded, voice deep from sleep. it did nothing to help the dampness in your underwear -- nothing could. your heart leapt and thudded with excitement as your boyfriend took your earbuds out and threw them onto the bedside table, his hands rough and quick.

originally you had just wanted to reach an orgasm so you could sleep, you thought; but this was a much better outcome.

his hands yanked down your shorts, and then they were being thrown across the room. next went your panties, discarded onto the bed. soonyoung's hands went to your top and then he was yanking that too, though he just shoved it up above your tits so he could palm at them.

"fucking yourself while your boyfriend sleeps," soonyoung answered his own question in a growl, thumbs pinching your nipples meanly. you whimpered softly. "oh -- don't try and be pathetic now," he snapped, "not after i've caught you."

soonyoung released your tits with another mean pinch, moving down your body. he shoved your thighs up, and then his hand was slapping on your cunt. you cried out, toes curling, followed by another heavy slap. soonyoung hooked his finger into your hole, pumping quickly.

"fuckin' greedy," he spat. soonyoung's dark eyes were narrowed, glinting with dangerous and delight. he was happy to have found you in such a situation, happy to have an excuse to be mean. and, despite having originally planned on letting him sleep, you couldn't help but be thrilled at the realization of the bullying he was about to put you through.

soonyoung slid his finger from your cunt and delivered another slap. the sharp sting shot sparks of pleasure and pain through your spine, toes curling and mouth dropping wide.

soonyoung shoved two of his fingers into your hole, rough and fucking up into you. every single pump was joined by the horridly wet squelching noise of your cunt, your cunt leaking so much that you could feel your juices slide down your rear and onto the bed.

he moved his free hand back to your tit. soonyoung pinched it again, your responding whine loud. he punished your whine with a sharp slap to the underside of your tit. "fucking desperate little whore. fucking yourself in our bed like a goddamn slut desperate for a cock. is that it, baby? you a fucking slut?"

you bit down on your lip, eyes watering at the edges from the roughness of his touch and the sharpness of his words. you loved it. "'m a slut, soonie, 'm sorry --"

soonyoung growled, and then he was slapping your cunt again. you cried out, thrashing in his hold, the pleasure-pain igniting every single one of your nerves on fire. he began to thrust three of his fat fingers into your pussy, the dull slapping sound of his hand as he fucked his fingers into you filled the air; coupled with the noises from your wet cunt your room was filled with obscene, sinful noises.

"you're not fucking sorry," he hissed. soonyoung's dark eyes were narrowed, their usual bright spark gone. instead he was a predator and you were the prey that wandered right into his trap; the tiger and the mouse that walked right into his paws.

"only sorry you got caught," soonyoung grumbled. he grabbed at your tit again, massaging it roughly, watching as your flesh molded around his fingers.

"i'm sorry --"

"no you're fucking not," soonyoung shot back, voice doused in poison. "fucking your little cunt when i'm sleeping right next to you. un-fucking-believable. can't fucking believe --"

soonyoung ripped his hand from your cunt. you let out a cry, trying to buck your hips back up to his hand. he laughed meanly, and then he was slapping your thigh. "eager little slut," he said. soonyoung was smiling, white teeth glinting in the moonlight. "just wanted something in your little cunt, yeah? just were so goddamn desperate --"

"wanted you," you sobbed, trying to reach for him. soonyoung pushed you back onto the bed, his hand pressing down on your shoulder and keeping you still. his arm flexed as you strained against him, and you couldn't help but watch as his muscles bounced, veins popping.

soonyoung moved to grab your hips. you immediately opened your thighs wide, letting him press against you. he lifted your lower half, fingers digging into your thighs. "opening your legs like a little whore in heat," he said, tilting his head, smirking. "that it, baby? you my little whore in heat, desperate for my dick?"

your eyes widened, all air leaving your lungs. soonyoung was still for a moment, just watching you, gauging your reaction to his words. but then you whined, high and needy, legs tightening around him, feeling nothing but arousal and thrill. "wanted you, soonie, wanted you so bad --"

"so you decided to fuck yourself in the bed next to me?" he asked, raising his brows. soonyoung released his grip on one of your thighs to run his hand along your cunt. the slide had you groaning, lashes fluttering and hips trying to seek out more friction. instead soonyoung moved his hand to your stomach; there he spread your slick over your skin.

"look at how fucking wet you are," he laughed. "fucking whore. so goddamn wet from just a fucking video."

then his sharp eyes snapped up at your face. your cunt clenched in response to his dark look. he used his free hand to grab his dick. soonyoung slapped the tip of his cock, a little spurt of precum shooting out in answer to his tease.

he moved forward, the tip of his dick rubbing against your pussy lips. you moaned, and then you were moving your hips, seeking more friction, trying to get his cock to slip in to where you needed it most.

"dunno if i should give it to you," he taunted, tongue poking out. his eyes were on your cunt, watching as he dragged the tip of his cock through your cunt, soaking it in your juices. "what was it, baby? decided a fucking video and your cute little fingers were enough? didn't need me? didn't need my dick?"

"need it," you sobbed. and you did. you needed his dick in you, needed him to shove his cock inside of you and fuck you. it was all you wanted needed. you needed him, needed kwon soonyoung.

"needed you," you cried, water stinging at the corners of your eyes. "needed you so bad, soonie. wanted your cock -- so so bad! didn't want to wake you, didn't want to -- soonie --"

and then you bursted into tears. you weren't sad, weren't crying from anything bad. you were just so desperate. you wanted soonyoung, you wanted him, you wanted, you wanted, you wanted.

soonyoung sighed, and then he was fucking his cock into you.

a loud cry escaped your mouth, and you arched your back up into him. soonyoung kept pressing, pushing his cock further and further. it stung, especially as his cock was so fat, fatter than even three of his fingers. but above that, above any pain that possibly could've come from it, you were wanton for it. you wanted it. you wanted his cock, wanted soonyoung's dick and any pain that might have come with it.

"take it," he urged, slapping your thigh. "take my cock, baby. gotta take it all. you were so desperate for it, yeah? wanted it so bad? wanted it so bad you were gonna cry like a little fucking slut. so now you gotta take it."

"want it," you gasped. you let your mouth hang wide open, brows knit in pleasure from the sting of his cock forcing your walls to accommodate him. wetness dribbled from your mouth, though you didn't quite realizing you were drooling. "soonie!"

"fuck," he hissed, and then he was bottoming out, his pelvis pressing against your ass. soonyoung's eyes were trained on your pussy, watching as your hole fluttered around his dick. "fuck, baby."

and then soonyoung was pulling out. the drag of his cock against your pussy walls had you keening, thighs tightening around his hips. it felt good, felt delicious. it was all you wanted and more, it was as if his cock inside of you was the missing piece to the universe, as if only now that his dick was in your gummy walls could the planets align and harmony be achieved.

(future you would cringe at the dramatics of cock-drunk you, but really; you were kwon soonyoung's girlfriend. it was a requirement for you to be somewhat dramatic.)

"fuck me," you begged, using your legs to try and force him to fuck back into you. "fuck me, soonie, fuck me."

he laughed, hands tight on your hips. as he spoke his grip continued to flex, as if the only thing keeping him somewhat composed was your body in his hands. "fucking desperate for me, aren't you? desperate for whatever i give you."

you blinked rapidly, lashes wet from your tears. "whatever you want," you echoed, excited at just the thought of him and his dick. "whatever you want, soonie."

soonyoung grinned. he grabbed your thighs and forced them to your chest. soonyoung used the new position to grab your jaw, and then he was spitting into your mouth.

"swallow," he commanded, smirking still. "want whatever i'll give? swallow my fucking spit."

you did as he said, mindless. soonyoung, delighted, wedged his thumb into your mouth and kept it open so he could spit again. you could feel his saliva hit your tongue, little droplets of spittle hitting your lips.

"swallow."

you did as he said, licking your lips after doing so.

soonyoung laughed, and then he was pressing his mouth to yours. you gasped, hands scrambling along his shoulders. soonyoung didn't kiss you as much as he fucked your mouth. his tongue slid in and out, shoving more of his saliva into your mouth, claiming even this part of you as his own.

then he snapped his hips into your cunt, sheathing his dick in one movement. you cried out, teeth nipping at his mouth on accident.

soonyoung pulled away, using one of his hands to wipe at his mouth. he then wiped the spit and drool from your kiss onto your shoulder. "gonna fuck your cute cunt so good," he said.

soonyoung went to his knees, keeping his pelvis pressed to your ass. he gripped your thighs and, using them as anchors, began to fuck you. soonyoung's hips slapped against you harshly, the sharp drive of his fucking making the skin where his hips met your ass sting, though this was drowned out by the pure ecstasy of his cock striking deep within you.

"take it," he growled, pushing your thighs to your chest, eyes dancing over your figure. "take my fat cock in your tight little cunt, fucking take it, take it all."

"please," you sobbed, wanting nothing more than to do as he says, "please --"

"begging so prettily," he continued, mouth just as fast as his hips. soonyoung fucked you urgently, desperately. it appeared, on the surface, as though he was just after his pleasure, uncaring if you found any. but he kept adjusting your thighs and ass, searching for that one gummy spot in your cunt that would bring you pleasure.

then, with a harsh fuck into your pussy, he found it.

you shouted out, hands shooting out and grabbing at him. one of your hands found his hair and gripped it tight.

soonyoung shot you a sharp look. and then he was grabbing your hand and forcing it to the bed, keeping you from touching him. "i said to fucking take it," he snapped. "fucking take my cock. you decided to fuck yourself in the bed, decided to go behind my back. now you gotta lay there and take it like a slut."

you sobbed, nodding. soonyoung moaned, hips stuttering for a moment. then he managed to control himself and resumed, cock slamming against your core in a rushed, harsh rhythm. "fucking pretty," soonyoung grunted. "so fucking pretty when you cry, fuck --"

soonyoung withdrew from your pussy, making a loud, horrible sob escape you. with quick, strong hands he was flipping your body over. your hair fell into your face as he shoved your shoulders down to the bed, his other arm looping around your middle and wrenching your ass up.

he swiftly entered your pussy once more, impaling you on his dick in one swift move. you cried out, hands fisting the sheets. your cries were somewhat muffled from the bed, lips pressed against the sheets.

"fuck," he hissed, his hands moving to your hips and gripping you. soonyoung fucked you with earnest, using his strength to bring your cunt back onto his dick again and again. "fuck --"

you cried, mouth wide open from pleasure. he was reaching so deep inside of you, dick reaching so fucking deep inside that you swore you could feel it in your throat. you felt like you truly could -- he was filling your senses, from his dick to his hands to his voice, and you felt like you were drowning in kwon soonyoung.

"good girl," he growled, shifting. "am i making you feel good? huh? your soonie's dick making your little pussy feel good?"

you sobbed out an answer. your face was just as wet as your cunt, though soaked with your tears and drool. you tried to speak but all that came out was a moan, muffled by the bed.

soonyoung's hand left your hip, and then he was grabbing your hair. he forced your face from the bed, a loud gasp tearing from your throat at his roughness. "fucking speak," he demanded, hand leaving your hair to slap at your hip. "told you to fucking talk, princess. think you're too good to talk while i'm fucking your pussy?"

"no," you said sobbed. "no -- just -- soonie --"

"what? fucking you so good you can't speak?" he laughed meanly, slapping your ass. "use your words like a good girl. be a good girl, baby."

it took a moment to gather yourself, trying to get your brain to flick back online. it wasn't like soonyoung helped, either. he continued to fuck you, balls slapping against your ass.

finally you managed something. your words came out in a slop. "good," you moaned, "fucking me sooo good!"

"fuck yes i am," he taunted, draping himself along your back. the change in angle had you squealing, driving your hips back and forcing his cock further. soonyoung let out a strangled groan, nails digging into your skin. "fuck -- baby --"

you fucked back again, eyes furrowing from how delicious it felt. soonyoung moved his hand to your cunt. he slapped over your clit once, and then he was hurriedly grinding his fingers around it, sending your body into overdrive from all the pleasure he was inflicting on you.

"such a good girl," soonyoung breathed, thrusts turning quick and short as he neared his peak. he refused to cum before you, however, and so he focused on your clit more than he did thrusting. "my good girl, yeah? my good girl, my baby."

"yours," you whined, and then he was slapping your cunt once more, sending you into orgasm.

it was loud, your orgasm. it rushed your body like a wave intent on drowning you, roaring in your ears and forcing your eyes shut. you couldn't even move, fingers and toes splaying out, limbs stretching. soonyoung didn't let you go far, forcing you still to fuck into you a handful of more times before he, too, reached his peak.

if your brain had gone offline from soonyoung fucking you, it was now floating in space from your orgasm. you weren't even on this plane of existence, your body reaching heaven.

when you returned, your brain deciding to reinhabit your body once more, you were on your side. soonyoung was pressed against your back, his arm thrown over your waist, keeping you close. both of you were covered in sweat and you could feel the mess between your thighs.

you let out a weak moan, and then soonyoung was rising from behind you. he smoothed your hair back from your face. he was just as sweaty as you, his bangs stuck to his forehead, face red from exertion. despite it all, despite how exhausted the fucking let him, despite how he had spewed such filth what seemed like only moments before, soonyoung gave you a bright smile, eyes crinkling.

"hey baby," he cooed, hand cradling your cheek. soonyoung ducked down and pressed a chaste kiss to your mouth. "how you doing?"

you groaned again, trying to work your sore throat. "good. tired."

soonyoung hummed, pouting down at you. "my baby's throat is sore, isn't it? let me get you a water."

you braced himself to retreat from you, to get up and leave the room to fetch you fresh water. instead your boyfriend stretched over your body, reaching onto the nightstand to grab your cup of water.

he guided you into a sitting position. "here you go, baby."

you blinked at him. "soonyoung," you croaked, "it's old water."

soonyoung pouted, sticking out his lip and making his eyes sad. "don't wanna leave you to get new water," he whined, pressing close. he moved his hand to cup your neck, raising the water cup to your mouth. "c'mon, baby. it's as good as any."

you took a sip but immediately pulled away, making a face. "soonie, i'll just go and get --"

"no!" he shrieked, hurriedly putting your water back on the nightstand. soonyoung pushed you back down onto the bed, and, despite how sweaty you were and your body was drenched in fluids from every end, soonyoung laid down on top of you. he pressed quick kisses to your face.

"no moving," he whined. "cuddles only."

you sighed, eyes sliding shut as his kisses neared your eyes. "we'll have to shower, soonyoung," you said, already feeling discomfort from where your cum and his cum was beginning to stick your thighs together. "we're all sticky and nasty --"

"can't we just cuddle and sleep?" he begged. you threw him a glare, not willing to sleep in a puddle of cum. soonyoung sighed, loud and exaggerated, and then he was lowering himself back onto your body, arms wrapping around your waist and pressing his face into your neck.

"just five more minutes," he whined, nose gently poking against your neck. "please?"

you were quiet for a moment. soonyoung hummed happily, thinking he won the spat. but then, projecting your voice, you called out: "siri! set a timer for five minutes!"

"baby, nooooo!"

[sweetkiitsunez]

❞ 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 - short

❞ warning: dead dove eats. nsfw content (18+) + f!sub (afab!reader) + Dom!Mammon + oral sex + Mammon eating you out + squirts + clit sucking + praises + noncon (Mammon couldn't stop being greedy lol) + fingering + anal fingering(?) + readers used you(rs)/they/them pronouns

a/n: i avoid using butt hole because it sounds too hilarious to me 😅,,

You remember taking a nap until Mammon rips your pants and panties. Of course, he is the King of Greed and King of Tartaros and you are his master, well... more like his playtoy. He loves you. He loves the sound of your cries and moans while he is eating you out. He thinks that you are delicious and wants you all for himself. His tongue and mouth sucking and licking your clit and folds.

"Aah...! Mmm...! M-Mammon...! WAH!" You let out a cries as you tried to push him away, but he is ten times bigger than you.

You beg time for god knows how many times to stop, but his ears are fallen deafen. You're so delicious... he wants more. His finger has dig inside your folds as he wiggles them. You let out a loud cries as you squeeze your eyes tightly, shaking your head. He is so big! You knew his hands were big, but not that big to fingering you!

"S-Stop! A-ah!! P-please...!" You moan as you pleaded him to stop. You felt his lips kisses your clit causes you to shiver.

"It's okay, master... you're doing good..." he murmurs as his golden eyes gaze at you then held your both of thighs over his shoulders. Making it impossible to kick or escape from him. He kept pressuring your clit by sucking and pulling. Dragging his fingers in and out of your hole causes you to shiver and rolls your eyes back of your skull.

You're a crying mess. All you could do was pull his hair or his horn. He kept spreading your legs wider as he is lapping your pussy and the juice. Your legs are wet... you feel disgusted, but... also good.

"M-Mammon...! Aah! Ah! Nngh!" You moan as you couldn't speak. He removed his finger from your hole as he grope your butt. You couldn't do anything as you just laid there being pressured by him. Mammon loves you. He loves his master very much. The way you slept in that position where you show your ass made him go hard. You're so adorable! He must eat you~!

"N-no! No more!" You cried as you couldn't take it anymore. You feel more pressured and tired already, but Mammon isn't giving you up. He pulls away from you thinking that it was over, unfortunately... he flips you over as you laid on your stomach as your ass is in the air. He held your thighs and spread your legs to show your pussy.

"W-Wait! You tricked me!" You cried as you turns your head to look at him with teary eyes. All he could do was smile as he assured you with praises.

"Master, I want to taste you, so badly... Don't held back your moans. I want to hear more." He said, pulling your butt close to his face. His large fingers rubbing your pussy as it already so puff! His lips licking your ass. You let out a loud moans as you are pulling the sheets.

"N-no! No! P-please! Aah! Nngh!!" You let out a loud pleading cries muffles on the pillow. He is keeping up with the pace as he continues to rubs your pussy even faster as his kisses your hole. You felt your body gave up on you. It feels good, but also wrong, too. Mammon is assaulting your pussy and ass. There's no point to yell or screaming for help. No one can hear you, but only Mammon who is assaulting you in your sleep, but was rudely awoken.

You couldn't hold it anymore. You could feel your legs trembling and your body is feeling heavy. You could feel Mammon's thick fingers sanking down into your butt lock. While his other fingers is rubbing your pussy in circles. Your fingers grips the white bed sheets until it becomes wrinkles. You buried your face on the fluffy pillows to muffles your moans, but Mammon knows your g-spot.

"Mmgh! Mm!! Aah...! Ngh!! Aah! Ah!" You moans as you are trembling. Mammon is making you feel good as he continues to mess with your pussy and hole puffy. "N-no m-more! Aah!"

You buried your face on the pillow as tears stains the pillow sheets as you felt something watery dripping your thighs and onto your thighs.

You squirt. You felt embarrassed as you came so early and not reaching your orgasm. Mammon doesn't care as he admires the work. You're in daze as you let out a shiver moans coming from your lips as you continue to squirt. You could feel your ears turning red as you squirted on the bed.

"Good work, master..." Mammon pulls away from you as he kisses your earlobes.

"...but I'm not done with you, yet." Your eyes suddenly widen when he says that. Until you felt his large hands spreading your butt cheeks.

"Well, let's see what happens tonight."

[shaisuki]

CAN'T TAKE MY EYES OFF YOU

YANDERE! MANAGER! ALEXIS NESS X IDOL! CHUBBY READER

content warnings ─── idol! reader, panty sniffing, masturbation (m!), implied murder, voyeurism, nonconsensual recording, deranged ness, dubious consent, nicknames (muse, princess), forced affection, threats, coercion, virgin reader, guilt tripping, oral (f! receiving, kidnapping, noncon.

notes. requested by @hillaryary

I was very happy to find your profile and stories :D your story is very good and I really like it!! I have to go to tumblr and re-read your stories every day :DD and can you write a yandere alexis ness x chubby reader, where the reader is a music idol and Ness is her manager?

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ the industry's cold for someone like you, thanks for the entertainment gods you're blessed with your sweet manager, alexis ness or is he?

you are too good to be true.

the neon lights blending with his own magenta eyes following your plush body dancing to the rhythm of the song you recently released. although he can't hear the cheers of the people singing along to your music. he's deeply focused following your every movement. his ears straining the unwanted voices in the background. separating your voice to the crowd and alexis could forever watch and listen to you sing and dance.

if you would just let him take you away from this. you would only exist for him and you won't have to go far to impress these good for nothing who wants you. a product they can buy and throw away.

ness handled numerous artists and he's quite proud to say they were flourishing because of him and it would have continued if it wasn't for their greed. the fame inflating their egos that it bursted until they were no more than nothing but trash. you were humble despite the rapid fame you've gained since starting and ness is captivated by you. how you carried yourself and faced the challenges as an idol.

it's quite difficult since you started. of course, the audience wasn't really into the idea of someone of your stature. round and stout unlike the usual petite idols with the hourglass figures. the fans wanted the thin with the soft features but never the fat that it comes with it and you're nothing like that at all. proving your worth until you get that breakthrough that sealed your deal as the popular rising star in the industry. handled by the finest manager named alexis ness.

alexis is the sweetest and kindest of all the managers (only to you). never did he criticize for your body that was the main concerns of the producers and other concerns that relates to your stardom. he tended all of your needs and made sure you were properly taken care of. alexis just loves you.

and he's the worst. always daydreams about you and think how you've fallen for him. thinking you were just too shy about admitting it and ness likes the thought of it. he likes you too. no. scratch that, he loves you. thinking that your words of praise are your declaration of love for him and how those touches are you seducing him. to fall on his knees and begs for your love which he didn't need to be told twice. he's a delusional lovesick boy. nothing can stop him. not even the forbidden relationships between managers and their talents. alexis would defy it all for the name of his love to you.

the song ended with the cheers coming from the crowd. chanting your name and you ended the concert with thanks and the words of appreciation for supporting you. you're radiant as the sun under the spotlight. waving your hands to the crowd who wants you. threatening to destroy that clean image of yours and ness wouldn't allow such filth to happen to you.

he put a genuine smile while you put your microphone away. his smile was different from the others he shows. this one is only for you.

“alexis.” the call of his name instantly made his heart skip a beat. his lively eyes getting brighter. perking up more than the usual and made his dick hard. his hands itching to get a feel from your soft skin. “it was a another successful concert, thanks to you.” you approached him. grabbing his hand to clasp with yours and ness thinks he could explode in the moment but he kept his composure. after all, he's your manager. your hands is so soft and it perfectly fits in his.

“it is nothing. it is you should take the credit. keep up the good work, sweetheart.” patting your cheek and removing your earpiece. “shall i take you home?” his sight briefly looking at your back where the crowd is still chanting your name in a thunderous manner. you nodded. you were beyond tired and needed a much deserved rest.

after changing out of your outfit, ness escorted you out where his car awaits for you two. of course ness needs to be discreet considering how every corners of the place, a photographer or a simple bystander stands. wanting to get a photograph of you and spread it like a wildfire in the interest. a scandal would erupt if you both where alone and in his car but ness is known as the manager who kept things professional and strictly business as things were. they can't use it against him nor to you as a new headline of fucking tabloid. it's only him and his talent. a good manager who takes good care of his star.

when you got home, you sighed in relief. you needed a bath after that concert and you need to prepare for the next upcoming days for press conferences, meet and greets and guesting for tv shows. no words are said as you instantly hopped in the shower. leaving your manager alone in his own devices in your apartment. it was fine though. you trusted alexis since you started in the entertainment industry and he was nothing but kind to you or is he?

when he hears the water run in the shower. ness knows exactly what he had to do. he follows you in your bathroom. the silhouette of your plush figure lays in front of him and ness was tempted to join you. lick the water running down to your soft body while your fingers comb through his hair. kiss him passionately. tell him how much you love him and he almost did it but for now he's going to relieve himself with your panties. digging it through under your clothes in the hamper and jackpot! he found it.

your cute, frilly panties. you always it wore it when doing public events. your lucky panties, he presumes. it's damp and ness almost salivates at the scent. sniffing the undergarment and fishing his hardened cock in his pants.

ness trembles. the excitement of being caught while sniffing your panties. he think he could cum in the spot but he tortures himself not to cum immediately. his eyes fixated in the shower door. he can see you rubbing your body in an almost sensual manner. his grip on his cock tightens. moving it back and forth. thrusting it in his fist. rubbing it continuously and the moment you turned off the shower, he cums in his fist. the sensation of cumming sending tingles down to his spine. sparks after sparks of endorphins being released in his brain and ness cleans himself before walking away from your bathroom. your panties in his pocket and ness pretends to be resting in your couch.

fresh out of the shower, you told ness that you would be turning for the night and he just gives you a smile. he will leave after you fall asleep making sure his sweet, pretty princess would be safe.

he waited for a good hour. not minding the night being this late. he slowly tiptoes in your bedroom and ness slowly sinks to the soft mattress of your bed. placing your plushies besides you. ones that was given by your fans and that big plum colored teddy bear that is displayed at the foot of your bed. it's round, black eyes is planted with camera that he crafted to keep track of you and you look really adorable even when you sleep. ness can't even think for a memory that you look absolutely a mess. you were really pretty in his eyes. your face devoid of any make-up and he can see the natural state of your face and ness could just worship you if you'll allow him and even if you don't.

you really trust him. you don't even suspect him of doing the nastiest thing he can do. he would kill for you. done it many times so he could protect you.

love me! his thought scream at him. he slowly crawls to you. lurching forward like a predator stalking his prey. his body caging your own. you don't even shift in your sleep. you're gullible. your own manager is above you. watching you through in his eyes filled with adoration with a lovesick face.

love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!

the only words running in his mind while he buries his face in the crook of your neck. let your warmth seeps and touch his very soul while his clothed cock is pressed to your creamy thighs. he moans a little when his cock brushed against your crotch. the thin barrier of your thin pajama bottoms is nothing. he hopes you'll wake up. he hopes you don't.

would you scream? push him away? or pull him closer to you. let his hands wander throughout the expanse of your body while you grind to him. show him that pretty pussy of yours dripping. telling him how much you wanted him inside of you and ness groans.

he should stop before you can find out what your manager had been doing to you. he removes himself from you. “sweet dreams, princess.” he mutters. running his fingers to the roundness of your cheek and kissing your forehead before reluctantly saying goodbye to you. he leaves your apartment silently. making sure it was locked and his phone syncs with the camera he hid in your teddy bear. he looks back one last time before he goes home.

make up? check. your earpiece working? check. do you look cute in this outfit? check. you did a little twirl in your dressing room. posing and practicing the hundred of facial expressions you memorized for this concert of yours. you were ready.

a knock interrupted your little train of thoughts and it revealed your cute manager ness with his ever so cute smile and those kind eyes of his.

“you ready for you big day, my muse?” he asks, checking up on his favorite idol. the cutest of them all. he was rewarded by your beaming smile. you were literally bouncing. after all. this had been set for months and your manager decided that it was time for your grand performance in of the biggest stadiums in the country. ness, a magician manager like him had worked to pull the strings to get his muse, her grandest spotlight.

as much as you deserved it, such acts must be rewarded, right? nothing comes free at all and ness always wanted you. it wouldn't be so bad if he would ask for it. he did everything just to make you shine even as far eliminating threats who wants to strip you out of your fame. those ugly bastards who wants your body for a sliver of connections they had. you're lucky to be in the industry considering you were too big to be an idol they say but ness was having none of it. it's your talent that got you here and him. he was made for your talent and you were made for him.

“thank you, alexis. i really am. without you i would be still in competitions with the others.” you thanked him tearfully. he can see you were sincere at your actions and that made ness heart skip beats before thumping in full force that it's enough for him to be sent into a heart attack but it's far from it. his cute, darling idol. he thought. his eyes raking the sight of your body from head to toe. your so delicious curves and soft features in front of him are made to be touched.

“ah, my darling muse.” ness approaches you. holding your shoulders. as much physical contact between managers and their talents are prohibited, ness was an exception. he never gave you any reason to be wary of and only acted like a friend would do. “don't get teary at me. it's your big day. we wouldn't want your beautiful face to be in a mess, right?” he coos at you affectionately. catching a teardrop in your lash line before it drops in your round cheek.

he's so close to you. your adorable face in front of him and he can smell the scent you naturally emits and he's about to burst. purple eyes looking at your own (e/c) eyes and he's about to be trapped. your lips tremble at the slightest of emotion and he's tempted to kiss you.

his sight going back and forth to your eyes and to your lips. his hold on you tightens and slowly, maybe it was the tension and how badly he wants you, he'd done it.

he presses his lips to yours and ness always wanted it and it's happening now. it's soft and gentle like a first kiss. it was your first kiss and he stole it. ness knows it was your first. he runs down a whole background check on you if he was to be your manager and it was just cherry on top that you were untouched and pure for him. ness had done everything at his power to keep you that way. it was for his own gain to have you.

there was no reaction when he kisses you. it must be shocking. your own manager kissing you out of the blue. it was the least you expected. he was just a manager to you.

you were still processing about it. no doubt and when ness broke the kiss. you were stunned. looking at him wide eyes and he took it as another opportunity to kiss you again. how long he waited for this. your soft lips against his. your soft skin under his fingertips. he let out a low moan. relishing in the sensation of your body pressed against him.

“alexis...” you softly mutter his name under your breath. he was biting your lower lip when you pull away from him and stares at you. pupils blown with lust and cheeks red. he looks like a lovesick school boy. “what?” he doesn't let you go in his grasp. you shake your head. “it's wrong.” he knows it. it's wrong to have a physical relationship nor a romantic relationship to your idol but managers had done it for a long time. it's a reward for their hard work and ness was hurt from how your face contorts into one of disappointment. your once adoring face that was directed to him is now replaced with anxiousness. looking at him in disbelief and is that the look of betrayal?

“it's not wrong when it's only the two of us. don't you love me?” ness voice trembles and it was similar to grade schooler that was being reprimanded of a deed they can't control. you don't know how to make the words you needed to say. you do love alexis. he's the one who helped you build this fame and even it was his job as your manager, you owe all of this to him. despite all of that, you can't risk a scandal between you two. one rumor and it could destroy all the hard work. you simply can't everything on the line.

“i do love you, alexis....” ness perks up from what you've said. you hesitated to utter the next words “you're my manager. my confidant in everything. the person that i trust in this industry but i can't return your feelings. i'm sorry.” your excitement dying down from the revelation of his feelings to you. better let that out than to let his feelings spiral out of control but you were wrong it only fuels his desire to want you more.

clasping his hands and ness thinks he could cry. it was a rejection but he just couldn't accept it. you love him. you've said it but why? were you afraid of crossing a line? idols like you aren't allowed to date but it's fine if it's with him. a secret until you retire and you can love him in the light as in the dark. he couldn't take this rejection. he needed to convince you that it was fine. no one will know.

“we can keep it a secret. just you and me. no one will find out about it. managers had dated their idols without knowing. we can be like that!” ness frantically explains to you.

“for them! alexis, you and i is not the same. i love you but not in a romantic way. platonically, yes. you're the only person i trust here, alexis.” you reason out to him, half-explaining, half-raising your voice at him. trying to reach out. change his mind that you can't love him the way he loves you.

your manager wasn't quick to give up though.

“no! you love me. you're afraid! i swear i'll be good. i'll work harder!” beginning to lose his sense of respect to himself and to you. he's beginning to spout nonsense and you shush him before he breaks down in front of you.

“alexis! stop! stop! you don't need to do anything, okay?” you hold him down by his shoulders. cupping his cheeks and meet his eyes that is already brimming with tears. “you don't need to do anything of that. we can still be... — friends. nothing will change after this. just please, promise me you won't do anything drastic.” you almost practically beg at him and hope he will take this seriously.

“i'll do it but only if you will let me do this.” you weren't able to compose reply before his lips is into yours again. “alexis!” you pushed him but he's back in to you again. “just this once and it will be done.”

you searched if it was real in his eyes and you found no malice in those eyes of purple. still like a gem in the ground and there's a little bit of sparkle in them.

it's only a kiss he asked for but could you trust him? what if someone found out or a hidden camera is recording this whole ordeal. you shake the dark array of thoughts lining in your brain. reaching to a conclusion that you won't regret this.

“you promise?” you asked, a little wary about it.

“i promise.” he smiles and he was about to do the thing you're about to regret. too gullible that he would be satisfied with kissing you.

then the kiss came. lips pressed against yours. gentle it was like him and when you think it was done. you were proven wrong when his hold on you started to get tight. holding the back of your head to further deepen the kiss. swiping your bottom lip with his tongue. you gasped at the sensation. forcing you to open your mouth and ness took the opportunity to shove his tongue to yours.

it was brutal and the sudden intrusion of his tongue in your mouth felt weird. is this what being kissed feels like? you try not to focus but judging from ness, he was adamant of kissing you like this.

the fluttering heat of the sensation of kissing you begins to settle in the pit of his stomach. oblivious to the pain he was beginning to inflict in your skin. all he can focus is the taste of your mouth in his. the strawberry flavored scented lip gloss in your lips coating his taste buds and the softness of body engulfs him. wrapped in the heavenly sensation of being this close to you. ness didn't want this to end.

you body starts to cave in with his ministrations and ness carefully assists you to place your body in your vanity table. your back pressed in the mirror. he breaks the kiss. letting you to catch your breath before he's in yours again. a couple of kisses he left in your lips and then to your cheek and jaw until he's nuzzling in your neck. sucking marks until a hickey blooms from it.

“alexis. you promise it will be done and the concert's starting.” reminding him of his promise. ness who's already hooked to you kept kissing your exposed skin. “there's still thirty minutes left until showtime and you're a little tense.” ness ignores the earlier ordeal. too bad. he won't be satisfied with only a kiss. he needed to taste you. “you won't mind if i help you loosen up a bit. won't you?” alexis suggested. he didn't leave a room for you to respond. standing in front of you. resting his forehead against yours. patting your cheek gently.

“you're particularly tense in this spot, princess.” alexis mused followed by a gasp coming from you when he rubs his finger to your slit. “alexis! no—....” he interrupted you with a kiss. your legs jerking in response along with your upper half. coiling away from him as you move backwards. hitting the mirror and knocking a vase.

his finger repeatedly going back and forth. grazing the surface of your panties until he can feel the dampness of it. “you're still tense.” he murmurs. going back again to kiss you and slotting himself between your legs. his hands creeping up and sliding it under your ass. holding it firmly before grinding his bulge to yours. ��ahh~” alexis moans. feeling the warmth of your pussy and the contact of his bulge to yours sending tingles in his spine.

you were helpless against him. you think your body is made of jelly from how his touch leave you to be this weak. “alexis!” you cry out to him. a call for him to stop but your manager didn't take it seriously.

“i told you, princess. i'm helping you to relax. it's a big day for both of us. don't worry it will only take a minute.” what a liar. this is not a way for you to decompress. not with such stakes are in the line.

you think that this industry would be a godsend to you since you're under the care of alexis ness but it's a nightmare. you think of all the idols that had to endure this.

you're wrong. alexis had never touched nor took advantage of the previous idols who was under him. you're lucky. you took his breathe away and was always good for him. it's only the way he can show how much he adores you.

“alexis....” you don't understand why you were suddenly experiencing the feeling of being helpless under him. how his touch disarms you that you're letting him do this. were you truly this dependent to him? you feel him under you. pushing back the tulle of your skirt until it bunches in your waist. still careful not to crinkle the fabric.

his smooth hands glides through the expanse of your thighs. massaging the doughy flesh and letting his fingers sink over the softness of it. “relax for me, princess.” alexis assures you. a brief peck of his lips to yours. not breaking eye contact with you until he started to kneel. leveling with your crotch and he leans in closer.

“princess.” he calls you. peppering the insides of your thighs with kisses. he takes a deep breath. his nose pressed in your slit. inhaling the scent of your cunt he'd been dreaming to get a taste of it. wished he could stay in this forever before he smothered his face in your cunt. “a-alexis!” you inhale sharply at the sudden contact of his tongue to your aching cunt.

your back arches at the sensation of his tongue constantly flicking against the smooth surface of your pussy lips. your fingers finding his hair. unconsciously tugging his hair while your hips grinds in rhythm with his tongue.

“a-ahh...” alexis hears you moan and he couldn't explain the happiness that is bursting inside of him plus the throbbing of his hardened cock. he must contain himself. he thought. it could wait. for now, he must remember the taste of you. he's the reason you're feeling this good and this send alexis to eat you out to his heart's desire.

he greedily laps at your cunt. letting out a noise of contentment while he eagerly catches the slick that your sweet cunt is releasing. he doesn't mind when you're pulling his hair a little roughly. he's glad that you're enjoying this as much as he is. he hears you breath. moan at every move of his tongue. rolling your hips against his face. his fingers digging at your thighs. his idol. his muse. trembling at his very touch.

he knows you're close. from the way you're suppressing the sound of your sinful moans and your thick thighs closing around his head. he needs more. he needs to taste you more. his lips wraps around your clit and that sends a violent jerk of your hips upwards and more slick to drip out of you. ness abandoned your clit. his tongue wiggling inside your dripping hole and sucking the thin, clear liquid out of your cunt. he just can't get enough of this. small vibrations coming from his mouth showing how much he loves the taste of you.

“a-alexis, i—'m close...” you mewl. the tight and the tingly feeling inside you growing and it won't be long before you reach your peak. the man below you hums. worsening the situation you're in. he happily laps your heat.

you taste so divine and he's about to bestow you the most mind-numbing orgasm and so he pours all his experience in your cunt. adding his touch while he rubs soft circles in your thighs and alexis moans when your thighs presses together. encasing his head. he hears you chanting his name like a prayer. asking to let you cum and it's a privilege to make his idol cum.

you close your eyes. the sensation of his tongue flicking and gliding to your folds is too much. you don't know if you'll last this long. this is what it feels to be taken care of. physically. it felt so good. you want more. forgetting that this is taboo between you and ness but...

it was set aside when you tumbled over the edge. the tight, hot coil snapping inside you and your toes curling. body taut until you were boneless against the mirror. sliding in a slow motion. ness laps up the remnants of your post bliss. mouth drenched in your sweet essence that will linger in him for the next days and when you relaxed.

“i think you're ready now.” he innocently smiled to you. helping you fix your dress for today's performance and gently dabbing your face with a tissue to clear the smudges in your make up. “alexis. i hope you'll keep your promise.” you say to him. hearing the crowd in your dressing room and alexis nods. satisfied for now. “as you wish, princess.” then a knock was heard. the stage manager telling you that it's almost time and you were escorted in the back stage. your manager trailing behind you.

what happened between you two is something you regret and not proud of.

alexis was concerned how you were frowning the whole time. his eyes fixated to you and only you. the stage manager begins to count the numbers until it was showtime. your face beaming up in a rapid manner. gripping the microphone before taking a deep breath and it was showtime.

he watched you dance and sing. interact with the fans and blowing them kisses and ness was jealous of it. he knows it's only a ploy to make your fans love you but he wishes it was directed to him. he's a manager. he encouraged you to do it in the first place on how to make your supporters love you and expand your fanbase. the apple of their eye and to him. his darling muse.

dark, muddied thoughts begins to stain his already messed up brain. if only you would look at him the same and thus, he got fed up with this life. hiding and trying to make his creations be pleasing to everyone's eye. if you're going to end up like them, he better cut your wings off.

and that's what he did.

“my muse.” he said with a soft smile. his voice filled with adoration. the nickname stuck to you. always had been. you were his masterpiece. “i never thought i would be this addicted to you.” pale purple eyes staring right at you. never breaking eye contact just to prove his devotion to you. “let me have the pleasure of being your first.” he means it. pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

your mind is alive but your body couldn't move. it was like it was made of of lead. you feel him everywhere. you didn't know you would be in this situation. is this still your sweet manager alexis who can fought tooth and nail just to defend you? who nurtured you and encourages to be yourself despite the rough upbringing of the entertainment industry. did he that all and only he would take that all away from you for him to do worst. the answer was clear to you.

a tear slip out from your eye. you feel your innocence and purity along with your dignity slowly fades when his cock strips you out of it. his breath in your face. his lips singing of praises. his muse. he chants it repeatedly while he moves. his eyes on you all the time. watching the change on your face. you should have run when alexis first showed you kindness and now it's too late. he keeps you in this place where you are only for his eyes to see.

[wolfierot]

❝ 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 ❞

thinking about pussydrunk ceo!natasha. she’s your boss, for fuck sake she’s the one who made the mistake of hiring someone she was attracted to. it’s obvious from the moment the two of you lay eyes on each other, there’s something bubbling beneath you two. she’s always been the assertive type, but that’s what happens when you run things. you have to make the right decisions, the tough calls, fire the ones that just don’t make the cut. you’d been on her chopping block, a long list of layoffs to be made and yours in bold, along with the others but the overly stubborn, red-haired, business woman couldn’t stick to the guns she’d been given.

not like the many men who worked under, all of this, her company that she started, every single effort was made by her. five years of missing holidays, her best friend’s birthday, the big moments she wished she could be a part of being the people she did have in her life was the only family she knew, until her company found it’s footing.

yet, when it comes to firing you, she can’t do it.

the entire staff at the annual ski trip, snowed in the lodge rented out for all personnel yet here she was tearing you apart body from soul, her nimble fingers thrusting in your warm and inviting cunt. what she said last time, would be the last but it was a bold, blatant lie — the both of you knew, accepting her words for what it was, a person yearning to achieve the moral and just action but never quite achieving it. natasha romanoff has traded with the devil, atoning for her sins at a later moment, firmly finding fallen grace as she lapped and fucked your slick in and out of you.

both of your bodies slippery wet, her toned and firm muscles in her forearms hard at work as the pearly white tile in the shower gave her knees a slight bruise, not that she really minds. a temporary marking on her body, tortuous as it reminds her of the one thing she hates to admit to herself….she’s too weak to give up these moments with you. she wears she sees god and all the constellations placed in the midnight sky when you cum for her.

you’re holding back, that much is clear, your grip on her hair tightens, pulling at the wet strands as the waterfalls on her perfect ass, the one you love so intensely. last night, she let you fuck her for the first time in this nine month arrangement, it’s more than you had bargained for, but fuck hearing her sing for you. delicious chants of your name spilling from her perfectly plump, heart shaped lips as you plowed her like she was a farmer’s daughter, your strap flirting with her cervix as she sunk into the bed. she took every bit of it, demanding for more and you weren’t one to argue, not when slight murmurs of mommy fell from her sinful tongue.

“this is what you wanted, right?” with greed in her eyes, she sucks your clit in your mouth, suckling on the bundle of nerves. practically living in her mouth, she spells her name out with her tongue, her fingers at a rapid pace as you grind against her face.

“nat—” involuntarily, you whine. your natural brat behavior comes boiling to the surface. her blunt fingernails claw at your abdomen as her hips grind against the hair. the louder you get the more needs she becomes for release.

at the very least, she needs to bring you to one. deep in her bones, natasha’s sure she needs your cum painting her face like you were made to do.

“that’s daddy to you, fucking brat.” she slips a third finger into your weeping cunt, your tits bounce as you ride erratically, pretending it was the nine inch strap, the baby blue plastic cock that fades into pink, filling you up.

“daddy, thought you said you didn’t want this pussy again?” natasha almost doesn’t catch it, to pussy sucking your slit back in her mouth when she’s not barking orders at you. it’s what you fucking deserve, her cruelty, fondling her breasts in the kitchen when anyone one of her employees could have walked in. devastatingly, there wasn’t one plea to stop you. she let you touch her, slowly unbutton the white crispy button up as you sucked on her nipple, your teeth grazing the sensitive pierced flesh, tongue circling the pebbled bud before moving on to the next. intentionally, your free hand squeezing the one not being used. there was nothing in the world you love less than her tits.

for just a moment, you thought about how full they must have been when she had her daughter, lactating onto her shirt. fuck, you’d suck every last drop if she would have let you, but back then you were just some bright-eyed assistant pining after a married woman. now, you’re getting fucked by her, post separation from her wife. the woman whose lack of sex drive killed their relationship, along with the cheating natasha later found out about, so she did the one thing that knew would piss off her now ex-wife.

fucked the assistant she always knew that pissed her off to no end.

was it really your fault? secretly, she took pride in blaming you for the situation at hand. you had the perfect tits, the supple ass she could spend hours fucking her tongue with, the pussy she would fuck into your folds were puffy and whiny, the clit she would rub and pinch until she saw those pretty eyes roll back. as if it were fate in the stars, or just the fact she loves fucking you, natasha would make it happen more often than not.

she told herself it would just be a one time thing but then she tasted your pussy, sending her into an insatiable frenzy. the first time she heard you moan, hands gripping her desk tightly as she spanked your ass with every thrust of her hips, her cock hitting you with such a brute force, you didn’t even know it was capable. natasha didn’t even know she liked being called daddy until she heard it from you, now she needs it like a fucking fix. if she doesn’t get it, she become irritable, yelling at any and every staff member, hounding them to send you to the office to your office, m’gonna to ream her fucking ass, but little did anyone else know she meant it in a literal sense.

“mhm, i think someone is ready to be good for daddy. so fucking close, aren’t you slut? c’mon yeah? think you can be extra good and cum on my tits? i’ll let you clean it up with your tongue, yeah?” her sinful, deprived, fucking hot words make your body slump against the shower door, your pussy squirting instantaneously as she purposely buts a bounce to her movements, perfect breasts taunting you as she nudges your puckered hole with her pinky, rimming some of your slick with it.

natasha peaks up through her eyelashes, hooded eyes drunk on the sweet taste of your cunt, watching as you crumble into yourself. your hips bucking, even convulsing as you paint her face, her throat, and more gloriously even your tits. even more so, you’re thankful the water from the shower head is cascading down her tattooed spine, wanting the privilege of cleaning it up herself.

the older woman is unrelenting as her fingers rub over your clit at a rapid rate, your cunt unwillingly to stop as your cum coats her in it.

“good fucking girl, oh fuck, so good for me. soak daddy’s tits, yeah?” you whimper out her name, another cry of pleasure is released when she fucked your cum back into you. reminding you of just how violently she can make your orgasms be.

quickly you muster as much strength as you come down from your high, pinning her against the glass door, licking and sucking at her full breasts. you spend even more time sucking on them than you did before. pushing them together as you suffocate yourself motor-boating the most perfect pair of tits in the world as natasha moans and slightly giggles as you do so. natasha throws her head against the glass as your skilled tongue flicks over her sensitive nipples, pulling at the barbell, pushing it back and forth as you suck it back into your mouth, releasing with an obnoxious pop before moving to the next.

“m’gonna cum if you don’t stop.” you’re surprised from the confession but you move past it before gently whispering in her ear after you’ve licked every last bit of your cum off of her. “can’t have that now can we? not when i know you’re dying to have my cock inside you, again.”

natasha lets you fuck her on the bed, then against the dresser as she sits on the top holding her knees to her chest as you piston fuck her into another dimension, and when the two of you are finally spent for the night, she wonders why she thought she wanted to get out of this. if she has to pay for your salary herself so be it, the last thing she has on her mind as she falls asleep holding you is if she’s going to fire you.

natasha knows now she never will. 

[atlaswav]

EMPYREAN ☾

INFO: 4385 words, dr ratio x gn!reader, college au SYNOPSIS: Art is the practice of capturing life in still motion, and yet Dr Ratio can never seem to capture your beauty in its entirety in his sketches. His waking thoughts are clouded by images of you, the bane of his existence. He hates it, but can't resist. The Gods - if there are any - are cruel. WARNINGS: none! for once! except attempted kiss. AUTHOR'S NOTE: my head hurts so bad rn and i need sleep but there were thoughts in my mind. also i think its really boring lowkey but hey! i said i'd publish something by sunday! also i think his characterisation is really off today but oh well.

Divinity wasn’t real. There were no real Gods, they didn’t exist – couldn’t. Science proved such. Miracles were situations of insurmountable luck, and no one’s fate was “ordained” like astrology maniacs liked to think. 

But when Icarus fell from the great skies of myth, reaching for the sun and Gods and the heavens beyond, Veritas Ratio was sure that the gnawing terror and morbid awe that seized that man at the sight below was familiar to him. That sprawling city touched by the sublime sun, smiled upon with the benevolent God peering through the clouds whose gaze melted fragile wax. 

He was sure that that fear and unprecedented awe was the same as when he first glimpsed you. 

His fall, however, wasn’t graceful or worthy of any legend. 

“Oh– you alright?” 

“My apologies, I–” he glanced up, leaning down to immediately pick up his sketchbook which had fallen to the ground, then he froze. 

“...Are you okay?”

This, he wasn’t certain. You helped him gather his supplies again, and he thought he’d never see you again – there were so many buildings and so many classes, why would he? But as if fate was stringing him along, he wound up sitting next to you for his art studies class. The class he convinced himself he needed to take for a proper education.

Icarus’ fall was met with swift demise, and he was so sure that he would too. But who was he to compare himself to legends? Even still, why else would he be stricken by the malady of your existence, if you weren’t some overwhelming beauty that his greed desired to capture? 

Art, however, could not capture life as any man would like. It could never catch the way light reflected in the eyes, illuminating the soul. Neither the delicate intricacies of a smile, a twitch of muscle, a beating of a butterfly’s wings, the delicacy of life.

Try as one might, however, Dr Ratio aimed to do this, anyway. Charcoal was his chosen medium, pervading clean paper, marking intent, focus and desperation. 

He remembered you casting him a smile before seating yourself beside him, and all his doubts in taking the art course dissipated from his mind – despite your literal run in moments before. 

You became immersed in the artwork at your fingertips as the professor chirped about something he should’ve probably been attentive to, but to him, it was now entirely meaningless. Your cheeks lifted when you smiled, creasing the corners of your eyes. Your hair fell over your face in graceful lines that framed your features, and your hands moved with such gentle dexterity that he yearned to capture them in his drawings. Your eyes narrowed in the slightest as your brush met the canvas, mouth agape with your fixation on your art. 

The charcoal snapped, and Veritas Ratio likewise snapped from his immersion, frowning at the dark lines that marred the page. 

In his sketch, your eyes were obscured by a wall of smudged black ash instead of the curtain of hair that covered your features. Ratio sighed, leaning back from the desk. Your eyes were now downcast on your palette as you mixed paints. 

There was a divinity in you that he yearned to capture, like sunlight in a jar. Futile, but with noble intention, he swore to himself. 

Then, there were more classes. More days that passed, more instances where he observed your habits, your artwork that had you enrapt, just as he imagined his own perverse captivation with you. There were more charcoal sketches in sketchbooks that never saw the light of day, ones where your smile was too wide, didn’t meet your eyes, or didn’t carry the exact expression that yours projected. 

Art could never imitate life – Veritas was simply mortal. But mortals could always dream of something divine.

There were times where he left the classroom for a moment, and he feared you might glance over at his sketchbook to see the hundreds of sketches of yourself. Smiling and frowning and focused, the end of your paintbrush sitting absently between your lips, your gaze cast to the side, small splatters of paint smudged under your eyes and on your fingers. It was unsettling. He knew it himself. There had to be an extent to his observation when it became invasive, yet he feared losing your presence without ever capturing it in still motion. 

This is when a man grows desperate. 

“May I draw you?”

“...draw me?” you glanced towards him, reluctantly tearing your gaze from your own work. “Why?”

“A study.”

You smiled a half smile. An expression that he was familiar with, given that you were already halfway through the semester. Still, there was nothing to your encounters but smiles of courtesy and niceties (he’d never admit that he so desired more).

“Sure. Show it to me later.”

Now, Dr Ratio discovers, there are few things that may disturb a man’s endeavours when he is enrapt in his studies. None of which affected Veritas in the slightest as his charcoal became dust on his fingers and he clicked his tongue at the material’s reluctance to bend at his will. 

None of which can successfully capture the being that is you, and he isn’t sure he wants to, anymore. Art isn’t made for the eyes of greed, it’s made for the soul that yearns for the cure of the senses. Or so the greats all say, but he thinks he cannot be one of them. He couldn’t imitate life, he was versed in the calculations of life instead. 

Caught in his thoughts, he taps his – new – stick of charcoal on the edge of the drawing pad, frowning at the new sketch he was pondering. 

“You’re really good.” your voice echoes from behind him. 

He turns abruptly to find you standing behind him, head tilted as you examine his sketches. Your nose scrunches the tiniest bit, and your eyes crinkle with a hint of mirth.

“Does my nose really look like that?”

“Of course.”

You laugh at his blunt reply. “Can I see your other drawings?”

There are over seven thousand languages that still exist in the world, and Veritas Ratio cannot think of a better, more dire way to say no than to agree completely. 

“Of course.” He flips through his sketchbook quietly, letting you glimpse his insanity. You were making him lose his mind, really. He watches your expression – how your eyes widen, your lips part, your brows furrow. 

“Did you do all of this since the last lesson?”

No, but he wouldn’t say that – 

“No, I've been studying you for a while.”

– Or maybe he would. 

Your laugh is another divine thing that he wishes he can capture. “Oh God, I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. You make a good muse.” 

“Do I?”

He nods, biting his tongue. He doesn’t want to incriminate himself any further than he already has, and he’s already become a stalker to you. 

“Is that a compliment?”

“Yes. Undoubtedly.” 

“Consider me flattered, then…” 

“Dr Ratio. Veritas. Veritas Ratio.”

“...Veritas.” 

He loves the way your lips mouth his name. He’d never say it to your face, though. This, at least, would die with him. 

“Well, thank you. You may return to your painting.”

You huff a laugh. “So formal. I’m nearly done, so I don’t really have anything urgent to worry about. Meanwhile you…”

He’s inclined to agree. The professor was checking everyone’s progress the next lesson, and he still hadn’t grasped what he thought to have been perfect. 

“Ah. Right.”

“Do you want me to like… pose for you or something?”

He hesitates. Why? He doesn’t know. Maybe something about morality and art and the truth, but he doesn’t care anymore. “That… would be ideal.”

“Alright, but you’ll owe me as well. Deal?”

This is how Veritas Ratio finds himself pacing his apartment, fixing his hair in the mirror, dusting the tops of the bookshelves that line the walls and polishing the kitchen counter so that each surface is devoid of any evidence of his own guilty conscience. 

His anxieties were immediately multiplied hundredfold when you knocked. He waited a couple of seconds – to not seem too desperate, with his heart racing out of his chest – then finally opened the door. 

You stood there, smiling with such casual ease that he found himself wanting to know everything about you. 

It was absurd. 

A tiny, suppressed part of him welcomed it. 

“Hey, Veritas,” 

There it was again, the unfamiliar way you said his name, smile widening. He decided against a verbal reply, instead nodding and guiding you into his living room. 

“You’re so… clean.” you glanced about the apartment, marvelling at how almost every surface had a shine to it. But it made sense, once you saw him sitting at the couch, already observing you with the unshakeable gaze you’d felt since that first class. 

You weren’t entirely oblivious to his stare, just as you weren’t unobservant with the way his cheeks dusted with pink the day before – and today, it seemed – as he made eye contact. 

You smiled, and watched him blink a couple of times before turning away with a cleared throat. 

“Yes. I can’t stand a mess of any sort.”

“Figured.” you shrugged, standing next to him. “So, where do you want to start? What should I do?”

He hesitated for a second before directing you to the armchair across from him. “Just sit there for now. We’ll start here.”

You complied, allowing him to hurriedly arrange the folds of your clothes and angle of your limbs with fleeting touches. 

He appeared nervous, but it was endearing. 

Minutes pass by in silence, faint scratching of charcoal on paper filling the space between you. The sunset’s light poured in through the balcony behind you, casting a dramatic shadow over the armchair. Purple, orange, yellow – you wondered if that scrutinising look he gave you was disapproval or awe. There was no way of telling, with his complex set of facial-expressions. 

But interpreting him through guesses wasn’t how you envisioned this would play out. 

You cleared your throat, but he didn't glance up. He held the sketchbook up next to you, but quickly returned to the page, making harsh lines across the page. 

“So… Veritas?”

His head snapped up, stray strands of violet hair splayed across his forehead. “Yes?”

“Why did you take art?”

His eyes narrowed on you. Examining, maybe. “I felt as if I needed to. For a well rounded study, of course.”

You laughed. “Of course you did.”

At this, he paused. “What do you mean by this?”

“Your reputation on campus. You have… what, four degrees? You’re famous.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, never putting down the charcoal, but tapping it against his fingers instead. “Oh? What else have you heard?”

“Well, they say you’re insanely smart, but you’re also pretentious.”

He frowned. The way his brows scrunched was endearing. “I’m not pretentious. Everyone else is simply far underqualified.”

“They also say that you’re an elitist.” you laughed. 

Concern only grew on his expression. “Do you think this of me?”

You shrugged. “I’m yet to form an opinion.”

He nodded. “Good. Wise.” he said, almost as if reassuring himself. 

“...How long will this be, though? I can only sit still for so long.”

He blinked, turning to the sketchpad again. “Not too long. I promise.”

“Can we go out to dinner, afterwards?” 

At this, he choked. You stifled a laugh at the renewed blush on his cheeks. 

“Dinner? Why?”

“You owe me, don’t you?”

This is when he realises that he was a fool in allowing you in, to allow the muse of his most divine visions to become human. 

He’s greedy, though. No one and nothing can change this. He wanted more of you. He wanted to hear each thought that crossed your mind and know each little item that occupied your attention. He wanted to dissect your mind and examine your memories and behaviours like an insect splayed under a glass, and he wanted to understand you so well that he became sick with the thought of you. But in his mind, you could do no wrong. You were so divine; with your secret smiles that held secret thoughts, and knowing glances that examined his frame with an artist’s scrutinising eye. 

“Fine. Just let me finish up.”

So you stay put, and you return to the thick silence that envelops the room. The clock ticking above the armchair only taunts you as your limbs begin to ache from lack of movement. 

Scratching on paper, huffs of exasperation, the occasional tearing of a page, and he finally sighs, rising from the couch. The sun had long since set, only remnants of daylight still lingering on the sky’s deep blue. The light was gone. You wondered if he’d captured the sun in his drawing, as well. 

“It’s done. Not good as the professor would like, but it will do for now.” he said, running a hand – dusted with black – through his hair. His forehead was coated in splotches of black thumb prints. 

You similarly rose from the armchair, stretching, and walked over to the drawing on the coffee table. 

You didn’t realise this was how you looked to him. Your features were only emphasised in the dramatics of the sunset, the slight turn of your lips and curve of your cheekbones accentuated with the shadows. He’d taken artistic liberty, you realised, in painting you within the sun’s dying light. 

You almost looked divine. 

“Holy shit.”

“Does that hold a negative connotation?”

“Veritas, you’re crazy.”

“...negative?”

“It’s so…” you met his gaze which was already searching yours for a reaction. “It’s brilliant. It’s so, so good.”

His shoulders relaxed as he sighed. “Good. Let’s go to dinner, then.” he turns to leave, but you stop him, grabbing his arm. You found that it was hard as chiselled marble, and almost want to find out exactly what’s underneath, but you dismiss the thought. 

“You have something on your forehead.” you point. 

He frowned, rubbing his forehead with the same hand that had been gripping the charcoal for the past hour. Smudged it even further. His forehead was thinly coated in black ash.

You sighed. “Here, let me.” 

He leaned down for you to wipe the stains, hair hanging over his eyes. He smelled faintly of the library with its old books, and partly of ink with something deeper. His eyes darted around to meet anything but your gaze, long lashes fluttering, crimson red eyes matching the shade of his complexion. 

You make him nervous, you confirm with delight. 

“There. That’s the most of it.” you withdrew, and he stood back up quicker than you thought possible. 

“Alright, dinner, then.” 

“Dinner.”

“I’ll go and… wash up.”

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

He realised how much he was doomed as the sky started to pour with rain, just as the two of you stepped outdoors, beyond his apartment complex. 

“How far is the place you wanted to go?” he asked you.

“Not too far. Let’s just keep walking.”

He shrugged, falling into step beside you. His steps were terrifyingly large, as would make sense with his tall frame. 

“So what are your interests?” he blurts out, staring at the ground as he walks. 

“Well, art, obviously,”

“Yes, of course, do you think I’m dense?”

“Maybe a little.” 

“I will interpret that as sarcasm.”

You laugh, and as if the heavens had heard you, the rain began to fall heavier, darkening the landscape, tingeing the air with smells of petrichor and a cold that wasn’t there before. 

Ratio thought it was ironic. A pathetic fallacy of his doomed fate. 

“You have to be kidding me.”

He sighed, massaging his temples with his fingers. “We are unfortuitous.”

“...You could’ve said unlucky.”

“I choose not to associate myself with idiots.”

You chuckle as you attempt to cover your head with your arms, running to the nearest block for shelter. The rain, however, doesn’t desist. It continues to pour until you’re both soaked through – his hair soaking wet, sticking to his forehead, white shirt clinging to his carved abdomen that you desperately try to avoid looking at. 

“Should we just go back?” you move your hair out of your eyes, squinting in the relentless downpour. Through the slight shelter of the building behind you two, the rain pours heavy as ever, unlikely to cease soon. 

“I was waiting for you to come to that conclusion.”

“...Why didn’t you offer it first?”

Because he thought you looked good in the rain with wet hair. He wanted to remember the image – burn it into his eyelids – before he returned to sketch it. Number of things he’d never say aloud: two.

“I was waiting for you to come to that conclusion yourself.”

“Pretentious.”

“Thank you. Now can we hurry? It’s only getting heavier.”

His situation, ironically, then becomes even more perilous. A series of unfortunate events, unfolding like a train of misfortunes. First, your meeting – strikingly uncomfortable for both of you, he imagined (it certainly was for him) – then your failed attempt at dinner, interrupted by an unforgiving rain storm. He didn’t think it could get much worse. But there was always room for improvement, as he knows better than anyone, the academic that he is. 

There are, now, puddles of water throughout Dr Ratio’s apartment that he hadn’t bothered to clean since you got into his shower.

You, in his shower. 

He wonders if there is a God, somewhere out there, delighting in his torment. It was never supposed to devolve into such interactions, only observing you long enough to capture your beauty on the page. 

He wonders if you know he is thinking about you often as he does. Thinks you’d be completely repulsed by him. This is what frightens him. 

“Veritas?” your voice echoes from within the house. 

He gets up from where he’s sitting in a puddle near the kitchen, racing to the bathroom at your call. Did he manage to miss something incriminating in his bathroom? He’d made sure that every surface was bare before you entered, had he not?

“Yes?”

“...This is embarrassing. Can you please get me a towel?” 

This felt like one of those cliches in romantic comedies that Ratio’s colleagues liked to watch. Mindless scenes of dry humour and burlesque attempts at “comedy” he found appalling. It was happening to him, now. Spiting his academic rigidity. 

“Of course. One moment.”

He tries not to think about you, standing completely bare behind the door, as he sticks a hand into the bathroom, head turned away. If you looked closer, you’d have seen the bright red shade of his ears – but to his merit, you take the towel, shutting the door, a muffled “thank you” audible through the door. 

He sighs, sitting on the floor beside the bathroom. 

Whatever Gods there were, were bestowing great suffering on him today. 

It takes a couple minutes for you to finish up in the bathroom. Another few more for him to wash up, and another handful of minutes for you both to be seated on the couch together in awkward silence. 

You wear one of Ratio’s old shirts and shorts, scrolling on your phone, and he is sitting, arms crossed, on the opposite end of the couch, staring at you again. Outside, the rain still pours in unceasing rivulets, dissipating any ideas for going out for dinner. 

He thinks his clothes look far better on you than on him. Thinks that you were made for this world and its inhabitants, crafted so perfectly. Wonders what wouldn’t suit your wear, because he can’t imagine anything that you couldn’t look good in. 

“Okay,” you say, turning off your phone to stare back at him, “I ordered. Should be here in about ten minutes.” 

He nods, and averts his gaze. 

You smile. His behaviour is amusing.  

“Veritas?”

“Yes?”

“What are your greatest fears?”

“Excuse me?”

You shuffle closer, and he notes a glint in your eye that suggests mischief. Teasing, as he’d seen before. “What are you afraid of? Like, the dark?”

“Nothing.”

“Boring. Come on, there’s gotta be something.” 

He frowns, brows bunching together as he stares at the wall. An easy, natural habit. “Nothing. Fear is irrational.”

“Right.” you laugh at his blatant refusal to cooperate with you. 

“Am I being funny?”

“No,”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re being so… unexpectedly childish.”

“What?” he seems to prickle up with indignation. “What do you mean?”

“Your stubbornness to just answer my question, and the way you’re…” you gesture to his posture, the way his arms are folded and he glares at the wall. “Behaving. It’s childish.”

“Well, what are you afraid of? Nothing, right? It’s a stupid question.”

“I’m afraid of insects, the dark, I could go on, really,”

Veritas glares at you, meeting your eyes for a second. “Fear is stupid.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you scared of holding eye contact?”

At this, he blinks. He turns to face you, still frowning, but his gaze flickers between your eyes and the rest of your face. Your laugh only makes him roll his eyes. 

“You really can’t hold eye contact, can you?” you say through a fit of giggles. “Have you ever dated?”

“Yes, I can hold eye contact,” – but not with you, it seemed. You intimidated him – “And no, I haven’t, it’s a distraction.”

“From what I’m seeing, you can barely even be near me without blushing.”

He blushes, breathing a sigh of exasperation. 

“Dr Veritas Ratio’s one fear is making eye–”

Then he grabs your shoulders, forcing you closer, and holds your gaze with such intensity that the words disappear from your lips. You blink as his stare bores into yours, crimson eyes deep, shining with something unfamiliar to you that you realise you want to decipher. 

People like to say that eyes are the windows to the soul, and Veritas Ratio’s was ridden with something that burned like the sun's dying light. 

It’s then that you realise how close you are to him, how his firm grip on your shoulders softens and his touch drifts to hover above your jaw, how he smelled so inviting, familiar and distant all at once, and how his lips were slightly parted, how they looked so soft –

Knocking, at the front door. 

You both tear away, and he stumbles to the front door to collect your delivery. 

You never regret anything more than this moment. 

“Delivery.”

You nod, obscuring your face with your hair as he sets down your meal on the coffee table. 

You’re both back to silence, pleasantries and common niceties as the meal passes. 

Neither of you meet the other’s eye. 

Time ticks away as you finish your food and clean up, wiled away by carefully weighed words and half-met glances. 

He hates it. 

He hates how you were looking at him with such curiosity, and he hates how he let you tease him. He also hates the delivery man for not being delayed by the rain, but he also hates himself for not ignoring the knocks on his front door. 

“I think I should go now.”

Yes, that would be best. “Why? It’s still raining, you could stay.”

“Well…”

He knows your dorm is far from his apartment complex. He knows that you’ll have to trek through the rain, and yet he also knows that if you stay, he won't be able to sleep. He still has images of you – fresh in his mind – to sketch onto the page. 

“It’s no trouble.”

“Okay. I’ll stay the night.”

“You can sleep in my room.”

“But–”

“Don’t argue.”

Somehow, you’re inclined to do as he says. 

Time, like all things, passes too quickly and too slowly all at once. Without time, nothing exists, but with it, it’s all too agonising to live through. 

This is exactly how Dr Ratio feels as he sits at the coffee table, the small space dimly illuminated by a lamp, as the entire apartment is still. You’re probably sleeping, as he reminds himself, tearing another page out of his sketchbook, unsatisfied with his own hand. 

The rain was now tame, a steady rhythm to his never-ending endeavours to capture your beauty on the page. 

Maybe it’s when the charcoal snaps in his hands, or maybe it’s when his lamplight flickers that he decides that capturing life in still motion is helpless – a pointless and impossible venture that can never succeed. 

You’re too deific to fit into a world of his creation. 

What are supposed to be your eyes – painted with fervour, but lacking depth – stare up into the ceiling as he dozes off, charcoal falling from his hand, eyes drooping closed. Slivers of moonlight cut across your painted face as he slumps onto the table, snoring softly.

—

You wake to sunlight in your eyes, blinding and harsh, and realise where you are. 

It all smells like him – that scent that you can’t place that smells good, and a lingering smell of the library with all its papers. It all smells like him, and when you walk into the living room, you find that his own apartment is completely devoid of any sense of himself. 

But when you find him slumped at the coffee table, lamplight still illuminating the space with its curtains drawn and rays of sunlight peering through, he’s obsessed with you. 

You’re unsure what, exactly, to feel. There are abandoned pages scattered all throughout the space, and unfurling one, you recognise your own face staring back at you. 

Each and every drawing is of you – your hair wet, clinging to your skin, you drowning in his clothes far too large for you, or your face painted with curiosity and entrapment. 

It’s you through Veritas’ gaze, and you think that beyond all else, he made you look divine. 

When Veritas Ratio wakes to his papers – all wrinkled and partly torn – sitting in front of him, neatly arranged with a note on top, realisation hits him, but he can only laugh. 

“Veritas Ratio’s greatest fear: eye contact with the person he’s obsessed with. Completely irrational – even though he can draw me perfectly from memory. A shame, really. Looks like you’ll have to invite me over to pose for you again.

So you can get my eyes right, of course.”

written by @atlaswav , published 26th of August 2024

[writers-potion]

Ideas For Religious Horror

Religion can bring out the best in people - and the worst. Horror fiction involving religious elements can bring into question our beliefs about morality, the definition of sin, and the modern interpretation of old rules.

Here are some ideas for dark story plots that circles around religions as a theme.

Horror In Holy Books

Use the stories that are handed down in holy texts to inspire the monsters and ghosts in your story.

Retellings of holy texts can also be quite interesting:

Think of Jonah from the Bible. First, there's a terrifying gale and the danger of the ship sinking. Then the sailors toss him overboard into the stormy sea. And finally, he gets swallowed by a whale and survives for three days and nights in the fish's belly...perfect adventure fiction material, I'd say.

Faith verses Fear

When writing about religious heroes, the story gets much more exciting when you insert moments of doubt and fear. The greater the fear and the shakier his faith becomes in the climax, the more triumphant the sucko ending would be.

Religious Historical Horror

If you're writing Historical fiction, you'll find lots of scary religious contexts.

The hero has (modern) attitudes of compassion and faith, but his contemporaries apply religious rules in the gruesome ways of their period.

The religious practices/dogma are discriminatory, which the hero fights against.

The hero is a religious martyr, pushed into the quest by religious leaders.

Unbelievers Meet Scary Gods

Here, the characters explore an old temple or the rubble of a fallen sacred site, asserting that they don't believe in gods.

They inadvertently commit sacrilege - and realize only too late that there's a high price to be paid.

This works well with both real and fictional religions.

Religion as Evil

Instead of presenting the whole religion as evil, focus on the evil specific character commiting crimes in the name of their religion.

It can also be "fake" religion - a greedy person makes up a pseudo-religion to place people under their influence. They would misguide people and use them for their own ends - greed, power, monetary and sexual gratification.

To give depth to your story, let the villain and the hero have the same faith, but interpret it differently. Would the others be able to distinguish the two of them?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

💎For early access to my content,  become a Writing Wizard 

[cosmonadarovicarts]

In the time of Eden

Fanfic Comic Hazbin Hotel

Part 18

(HE finds out)

I imagine it could cause outrage with the design of Beelzebub, Asmodeus and Mammon! But I tried to adapt it to the style I was drawing and make them more angelic! I went back to reading about demology to try to be more precise -apart from the reference to Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel obviously- about its origins. As you can imagine, there are different views on this.

Asmodeus had his origins right in the middle of syncretism (in his real-life conception, not mythological/religious), but in some versions he was seen as a fallen Seraphim, where he fought alongside Lucifer.

Beelzebub is also, like most demons, the result of syncretism and the need -mainly Catholic- to internalize gods from other religions. He - or she, in the Helluva Boss version - was described in myths as a not very intelligent but extremely powerful demon. So I left her too like a fallen Seraphim. And I wanted to draw her younger!

Mammon was the one I forced the most here haha ​​it was a word that literally meant money/greed. he did not have an origin from a pagan God or adapted to a fallen angel (if anyone has a text about him refuting what I said, please send it to me!!), so he is not exactly a Seraphim, but still an angel. ...

Anyway, I wanted to bring some of these angels that will fall with Lucifer - besides mentioning Leviathan- I just didn't have much creativity in making a better design haha

It was never my intention to make Adam suffer so much in the story! But still, it's the villain's past... sorry!

Part 19

[idwt-money]

I See Through You.

MDNI 18+

3.2k words

Satan!Noah sebastian x Lost soul!Y/n

Christian/Religious themes, Satanic themes, Corruption kink, Mentions of death, Wax play, Oral sex (male and fem rec), Unprotected sex, Squirting, Dirty talk, Mentions of breeding kink

“The Devil is real. And he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful. Because he's a fallen angel, and he used to be God's favorite.”

—

Noah's pov.

Fuck. It should be ME. I'm the fucking king.

—

Third person's pov.

He had been banished from the holy scene. His mind had been corrupted. He was God's favorite. The closest thing to becoming a god he would have ever gotten. Until…

His mind would run amuck at night. After the sun had set on the sacred land, laying in bed with his brethren just rooms away.

Day after day he had gotten sick of bowing down for the divinity. Growing like a disease. Growing and rooting itself deep within his bones, the veins that allowed his suborn blood to flow. Spreading deepest in the soul his God had granted him eternal life with.

Submitting himself to his almighty had become a tiring, weakening agenda. His hunger for power burned deep within his mind.

His position as the anointed cherub no longer satisfied his starvation for authority.

His attempt at dethroning God led him to be thrown, tossed, banished from the pearly gates every mortal soul had prayed to enter.

—

One of his now ex-brethren, bestowed a script to him. Curled together like an ancient pirate's map. On the scroll before him was one final message to the unholy individual from the Lord.

“Oh, my poor Samael. Where had I gone wrong? Pride, greed, envy. For how could you let them engulf your intelligence? To cause such rebellion? You, a lost soul, can no longer hold a position in my holy land.”

As he finished the script, he felt his soul burn and shrivel into complete nothingness. Nothing but a black void leaving him falling out of the sacred heaven he yearned to be the king of.

Falling through each layer of the Earth, he could feel his skin burning and aching as he did so. He landed in an unbeknownst hole, passing out on impact with rubble and dust falling upon him. On that cursed day, the eternal fire was born.

—

If you are cast out, what's your next move going to be? Will you return cold? Or will you turn up the heat?

Last thing I sold them, had been my dignity. But, the truth is the devil sold his soul to me.

To me.

To ME.

—

Noah's pov.

I had awoken in a displaced land. A funnel shaped cavern. Aggression and insanity ran cold through my veins. An inferno I was placed in.

If I wouldn't have an opportunity to rule the heavenly kingdom, I shall make my own. For lost souls, for sinners and those of who act upon blasphemy. For those who will not succumb to God. I will be the king of the mountain of purgatory.

For I will create a kingdom, not as its jailer, but as its healer. I will heal every soul that is not worthy of being in heaven. I will create an army, one so powerful that it can take down God and his disciples.

—

Third person's pov.

Noah, as he had renamed himself, had spent years stacked upon years building and crafting his domain. A safe place to heal broken souls that were undeserving of heaven.

He had now accumulated centuries worth of individuals who lost their spot in the promised land. They were all dependent on him as their ruler, their king.

He had rediscovered himself. He no longer was a spirit of God, rather the opposite.

He no longer had soft, white, pure feathered wings. Instead his back was adorned with a set of deep black wings. They were covered with coarse fur, rough to the touch. His once dark honey colored eyes were now pitch black. He had grown fangs that looked perfect to sink into a soft, flawless neck.

He had all he could ever imagine…except a love to sit beside his throne, to rule his domain with him.

His heart desired and thirsted for a true love. Although he had millions of souls in his kingdom, he hadn't met a single one that could give him what he needed.

They were all too much like him. He wanted someone he had coax upon him. Someone he could play a game with.

He hadn't taken a leave of absence since the day he decided to create his own space. Maybe it was time to change that. A trip to the mortal world.

—

Y/n's pov.

I sat upon a bench in the midst of a forest, taking in a deep breath of the midnight cool air. I had no place to go.

Parts of my soul, broken and seemingly unfixable. I was cursed to spend my days roaming the Earth as nothing but lonesome in my own purgatory. I would spend my day and night praying, atoning for my sins. Seemingly little, insignificant sins to anyone else were the reason I was stuck in this temporary state.

My Lord had promised if I could atone for my sins, I would be allowed into the promised land. I wanted nothing more, but my Earthborn body had long turned to dust, my hope slowly diminishing.

—

If God came down from his kingdom, he came down from his throne and we asked him if he'd take us back, he would surely tell us no.

We live and die in vain like treasure on a sinking ship. All in the name of a God we'd just abandoned and forget.

—

Third person's pov.

He had his eyes set on her. A lost soul, set in purgatory. Oh, how easy it would be to convince her to bestow her gift upon him.

She seemed perfect. Her skin having a soft glow to it. He knew if an Earth bound body could see her, they too would fall in love with the sight. Her glow gave off as a blue-ish tone, telling him all he needed to know.

As he moved through the trees, he watched as her panic became prominent.

“No one knows I'm here…unless?”

A small glimmer of hope shone through her sadness at the idea that her Lord had finally decided she was able to step foot into the holy divinity.

Her blood ran cold as a jagged finger ran across her skin.

She was so soft, the panic in her eyes set his body on flames. Her pure mind was one he could imagine 100 different ways to ruin.

—

Noah's pov.

“What are you doing out here by yourself, angel?” My voice came out rough and coarse, while hers was much flowy, softer than mine could ever be.

I took a stand of her hair, taking in her delicious scent.

“Wh-wha-! Who are you!?” Her chest was rising and falling like a scared little bunny, her eyes darting back and forth across my features.

“I know you've heard of me. The Prince of Darkness, Beelzebub, Lord of Flies, The Antichrist. Baby, I'm you're one and only-” I was cut off, her screech throwing her into a fit of madness.

“THE DEVIL!?” Her cry must have been heard for miles, to any other lost soul or angel that was Earthbound at the moment.

I pulled her to my chest, covering her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up. I'm here to make a deal.”

A deal with the Devil.

“I see through you, angel. I know exactly what you are. A lost soul, hoping to atone for your sins. Am I close?” I spoke my words slowly and calmly, not needing a miscommunication.

Her head weakly nodded against my heaving chest.

“I'm going to take my hand away, and you're going to let me talk. Do you understand?”

Another nod was given.

Removing my hand oh so cautiously, I let her sit back down, holding my finger up to my mouth, indicating she needed to be quiet.

“He won't let you in there, baby.”

“You don't know that.” Her words flew out of her mouth, cold and harsh.

“Oh, but I do.” My index finger softly gliding down her cheek. She must have been previously crying.

“I was his favorite, you know? I had more power than any other angel. I was second below God himself.” My hands now placed behind my back as I paced back and forth. I didn't miss the way she watched me like a hawk.

“I wanted more. I needed more. He was far too greedy. He casted me out, sending me falling through Earth's layers, down into the deepest parts of the plane. His sacred, holy land was too much to bear. So, I created my own. My own kingdom.” I watched the starry night sky, all the stars twinkling as I explained my story.

Looking down at her, her face was painted with many emotions. Confusion, anger. I smirked to myself, knowing I had her questioning the almighty spirit.

“B-but God is…is good. He's purity and kindness.”

I scoffed.

“Come with me, my sweet angel. Rule with me. You will have power and you can be your own divinity. I can give you everything he could and more.” I whispered the last part into her ear, letting myself smile against her skin.

“Why…why are you beautiful? I thought-”

“Thought I was red? With horns and an outdated tail?” My eyebrows furrowed together as I spoke.

—

I see through you, I know what you are. I see the devil more than I see God.

—

Y/n's pov.

He was beautiful. Gorgeously put together, with a black suit, dress shoes and tattoos staining his skin. He was so enticing.

My head was dizzy and I could feel my core slowly weakening. This was absolute insanity.

I had no idea why I felt the need to say yes to his offer. His words were smooth like fresh honey floating through my ears.

Although tempting, I had to be strong. He could be lying. I had read the bible 5 times before passing to know this is what he does.

He's seducing, he tempts your faith, your religion. He gets in your head. He tempts you with bad decisions. He had powers beyond man. He was the reason Eve sunk her teeth into the forbidden fruit. He was the snake that left hissing in your ears after you had committed a sin.

“Come with me, I can make all your dreams come true, little one. I can make you belong.”

Belong? Your soul ached and yearned to belong somewhere.

“You can give in to your sins, free of guilt. Free of shame. No worries of fear of punishment.” He made a tempting debate.

Is this what you wanted for yourself?

“He'll leave you alone, you won't see him like you'll see me. Is that what you would like? He'll send messengers to talk through. You won't catch even a glimpse of him.”

I couldn't stand the thought. My mouth spoke before my brain could speak.

“Okay. I'll come with you.”

—

Third person's pov.

A sinister smile spread across his lips.

“This will hurt a little.” He muttered as he tilted her head to the side. He sunk his teeth into her neck, covering her mouth as to muffle her cries. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he felt their minds morphing into one.

Giving her a mark. A mark to tell everyone how easily he had corrupted her mind. How she was now his.

Noah pulled away, licking away the blood that resided on his lips.

As for Y/n, she felt her body burn hot. Aching pain spread through her body, her soft blue glow now turning orange.

She watched as he cleaned up the mess, licking the blood away on her neck.

“Oh, my sweet angel. You've made the right decision.”

—

As the pair now made their way into the kingdom, innumerable souls congratulated their king on his new found love.

They soon after found themselves in the Devil's bedroom. She hadn't taken Satan for one to sleep much.

“It isn't for sleeping, I promise that, baby.” He chuckled at his own comment.

As soon as she took a spot on the bed, covered in soft, red sheets, he was attacking her lips.

—

Y/n's pov.

You weren't complaining. He had promised you an eternal life, free of guilt. What would be the point in worrying about it now.

You let his lips venture your body, his fangs gliding across your skin every once in a while.

He had started leaving purple marks across your neck, close to the freshly marked wound he had given you previously. A way to say you were his.

“Oh, fuck. Baby, I'm going to corrupt your precious little mind. Fill it full with sinful thoughts about me.”

He took your hand, moving it down his shirt, down to where his cock was painfully straining against his pants.

It caused you to ache beneath your own. Your mind went dizzy with the thought of him. He was gorgeous and was about to give you everything you could ever want.

You had taken some initiative and unzipped his pants while he took his tie off, throwing it somewhere unbeknownst to you. He undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt and you, quite frankly, gawked over his body.

He was toned. He had tattoos littering his skin everywhere. His dark eyes watched as you took a long once over of his body.

“Fuck, you're beautiful. Truly.” Your words were quiet, seemingly scared that God would somehow hear or see the activities the two of you were getting up to.

“As are you. You'll be perfect at my side. For the rest of forever.” His hand caressed your face. He did truly find you breathtaking.

Your big doe eyes were something he could find himself staring into forever.

You were now something the holy trinity could never take away from him.

You pulled his pants down, causing his cock to be set free. Something roared in you.

You licked your lips before devouring him.

You swallowed his cock, slowly taking more each time your head bobbed up and down. Soon, he was reaching the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him.

His hands were placed at either side of your hand, using it as leverage to fuck into your throat. You took it so well that he could lose himself in your touch. The way your arms were wrapped around his thighs, helping him go deeper into your throat made him weak and want to crumble.

You felt your cunt wetten for him. The sight of his hair falling out of place and his chest heaving through your teary eyes made you need him. You wanted him to enter your temple and destroy it.

His thrusts became sloppy, faltering here and there. You pulled away from his cock, muttering filthy sins as you stroked him.

“Let me taste you. Give it to me, baby.”

You were forced down onto him once more as he let his seed spray down your throat. Letting it coat your insides felt like bliss.

It was mere seconds before he led you to lay on your back. His hands were clawing and scraping against you, in such need and hurry to remove you of your clothes.

The second your panties hit the floor Noah was nose deep in your pussy, taking in your taste and smell.

Your eyes rolled back as your mouth was left gaped. A hand flew into his hair, pulling and tugging at it, causing his once perfect hair to now be disheveled.

“Oh- oh fuck-” You gasped as he licked and slurped along your clit. No man had ever pleased you as Noah was right now.

He wasn't a man. He was a fucking demon.

His middle and ring finger slid across your wetness before plunging into you.

Something in Noah felt like this is what he had been waiting for. This is what he was made for. He was made for you.

His fingers quickly found the right way to please you. The calloused pads of his fingers rubbing the right spot.

You bit your bottom lip and he somehow knew you were close to toppling over the edge.

“Do it. Let yourself go. Let yourself be mine.” His voice came out as a growl against your cunt as his fingers quickened.

“No- I can't I'm gonna-” You couldn't finish your sentence before your orgasm took over your mind.

Your orgasm left a mess everywhere. You hadn't known until you heard the wet sloshes against Noah's palm.

“Oh my- I've never done that before. How-how did you…?”

“Done what? Squirt? Fuck, angel. I'm Satan himself. Did you doubt me?” He had an shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Shut the hell up and fuck me.” Something took over you, all you could think about was his cock ramming into you. Destroying every thought you'd ever had of God and those “precious” pearly white gates.

“Look at you, mere moments ago you were trembling with fear. Now you're begging for my fucking cock.” He chuckled and crawled up your body, kissing and licking at your skin.

It didn't take long for him to position your legs over his shoulders, feeling his cock stretch you out as he entered you.

“Your body is a temple. And I'm here to fucking destroy it. I'm here to get in your pretty little head. Corrupt those holy thoughts with distasteful, nasty, sinful thoughts.” His words were venom digging into your brain, making your mind their home.

His thrusts were becoming faster, now that your pussy had gotten used to his size.

He had grabbed a candle that was permanently lit by his bed and watched the wax drip onto your skin. You hissed as each droplet made its spot on your skin.

Slowly but surely, Noah had made an upside down cross upon your stomach. You couldn't care for the dull burn the wax drips had left as they dried.

You could feel Noah's cock pushing its way into your fucking stomach. He was so inhumanly big, you almost forgot where you were and who you were getting fucked by.

Once the wax had set, you pulled Noah into you, clawing your nails deep into his skin. He growled over the feeling of your nails making dents so deep into his immoral skin.

Before you knew it, Noah's shoulders were bleeding and you were both merging into one.

“Noah, please, please harder!” Your words were barely decipherable as your second orgasm was approaching.

“Now. Give it to me now.” His words were enough to send you into a spiral.

As you had your own orgasm, Noah shot hot strings of seed deep into your womb.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna put a baby here one day.” Noah said as he rubbed your stomach.

He took the blood from his bruised shoulder onto his thumb, placing it onto your tongue.

"Forever, we are one."

He finally had a respective queen to be by his side for the rest of eternity.

—

Woke up in the light convinced my life had made it to its end. Burning up beneath the sun, while my father drained of blood.

If he's there, I've got a message for the man that's up above.

Fuck. You.

Taglist: @vinyardmauro @missduffsblog @lma1986 @embracethereaper42 @skulliecadaver-blog @mrscevans @viofcrows @gipsonnikki @philomenie @bloody-delusion-expert @bloodymug @millyhelp @fuckyouimstillstanding @cookiesupplier @concreteangel92 @bruisedleftknee @sprokat @itsafullmoon @darling-millicent-aubrey @eclipseeetop

[writingsofwesteros]

DRABBLE

Dark/Obsessive Viserys i Targaryen and Lannister wife.

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

“Will—will you not be late?” The stuttering words fell from her soft, pouting lips as she became breathless. Viserys could not answer; he had no true desire to but his mouth was otherwise occupied. Those soft, ample breasts of his pretty wife had fallen from the expensive, red silk of the dress he had made just for her. The King’s greed for his new consort was unmatched. A grunt of pleasure escaped Viserys as he sucked on her pretty, pink nipple. The feel of her spasming, creamy pussy tightening around his fat cock nearly had his eyes rolling. Gods, she was perfection. His larger hand slowly moved over her soft skin; goosebumps easily appeared in his wake. A sharp whine of his name fell from her soft lips as he roughly palmed at her bouncing, perky breast. “They wanted their King to have a wife…they can have the consequences.” He purred into her ear before leaning closer; their noses brushing together. It was not long before he passionately captured her soft, sweet tasting lips. The act soon became messy as his hands were groping at her arse, guiding her movements with practised ease. “And we have an heir to make, do we not?” Viserys hummed; nuzzling into her neck as her head fell back. His hips slowly rocked; pushing nicely against that soft spongy spot that made his pretty wife so weak and dumb with pleasure. His slender fingers were soon joining in; pressing against her clit before he trapped her button between two knuckles.

Her body shook; whines of his name falling from her lips with ease as Viserys watched the beautiful, arousing display. He could not get enough of her and Viserys doubted he ever would. She was precious and all his. “Please—-please..my King.” She hardly knew what she was begging for as her stomach tightened in anticipation. His fat cock twitched inside her, causing her legs to shake as her eyes rolled. “Such a little whore I have.” “No..no, just yours..” His pretty wife whined and leaned closer; their noses brushing together as his hips rocked and began to thrust deeper. Viserys smirked; two of his thicker fingers finding their way into her hot mouth as she drooled on them.

His free hand roughly grabbed at her arse, guiding her with his thrusts as his grunts of pleasure echoed in the room. Viserys knew the guards outside his room would hear, which only made the older King eager to prove his stamina and skill. Not that his wife would know any different. Her innocence and purity all belonged to him - Viserys had made sure of that. His Lords and Ladies did not need to know he had bedded and ruined his wife to be before he had cloaked her in his colours. Viserys passionately captured her soft lips; tongue pushing in just as his fingers had been before. She moaned against his lips; the sounds muffled but her climax was soon ripping through her.

Still, his thrusts became harder; fucking her through the orgasm as she whined. His pretty wife soon hid in his neck as his larger arms wrapped around her soft, slender body, keeping her trapped as the pleasure soon became too much.

[darkfluffydragon]

So uh, I ended up making a new...? AU with @amitiagailec and @blueshadowdad XD except it's not really a new AU.

Introducing, Decidit's Curse! A modern universe featuring Phantas/Knowledge (Phantasmagoria!Shadow Milk), Ternate Milk (fragment au! Shadow Milk), and Blueberry Milkshake (dad! Shadow Milk). Except they're now all brothers, with Phantas being the oldest, Ternate being the middle child, and Blueberry being the youngest.

There's a twist, Phantas and Ternate are both creatures! Ternate is a vampire and Phantas, uh, no one is quite sure what Phantas is. I'll focus on Phantas and Majesty here, and I'll leave the others to explain their side of the story >:3

I'll start from the very beginning. Originally, there were the five original virtues, baked by the witches themselves. Tasked to guide and help cookiekind prosper, they were sent down to earthbread. At first, they did as they were told. Being treated as divine beings, as heroes. Until, one by one, they began to corrupt. In an attempt to stop the creatures of their own creation, the witches shattered the souljams, fragmenting them and scattering them across the tree of life, where the shards would fall upon and settle within the blood and souls of unfortunate victims.

Each Virtue, each Beast, manifested into its own type of curse.

Sloth promotes corruption, within self and within others. Tempting those who will listen to fall into greed and cruelty.

Apathy becomes uncaring. They stop caring about what happens to people. Not exactly losing emotion, they have their own emotions. But they don't have sympathy or empathy. They only care about their own goals, not caring about what they have to do or the people they ruin to get to it. If that means the downfall of a country, so be it. It doesn't matter to them, not anymore.

Destruction grows impulsive, and more angry. They find it harder to hold back the violent urges, find it harder to care about the violent urges. Finds it easier to find it fun.

Silence is a void of mind. They become a shell of themselves, losing their voice, then their thoughts. Guided only by the hatred of the other curses, Silence only falls once the others have fallen too, as there is no one else left to keep them from slipping into complete solitude and isolation within their minds.

Deceit is a loss of identity. An inability to recall who they are, who they're supposed to be. Sometimes they never notice it at all.

Knowledge Phantasmagoria Decidit is the eldest brother of the Decidit family. After losing their parents, and gaining custody of his younger siblings, he would later gain a job at the government. Unknown to the general public, he works in the Creatures Department under the Director. After being tasked to research the confidential magic known as 'Dark Moon Magic', he suffers an unexplained death.

A month later, he reappears back at his home's doorsteps, looking as though he had dug his way out of his grave. Because he had. And he came back...off.

In this universe, there is an existence called the Angels. They have different names as well, such as Guardians, or Faeries. They are created by the witches and have one primary task: watch over the bearers of the curses and interfere if required.

Gods/elementals and other mythical creatures also exist, though are hidden away from normal society. The cookie suffix is no longer used, though curse bearers, angels and gods occasionally slip up when speaking.

Majesty (Phantasmagoria! Pure Vanilla) is Blueberry Milkshake's student. He was born with a frail body, so he grew up being in and out of hospitals. Due to this, he could not properly go to school and was tutored. One day, he didn't show up to class and Blueberry would later find out that Majesty was in critical condition.

Phantas, seeing his brother so distraught, decides to do some...tomfoolery, and cures Majesty.

Majesty is completely fine. Nothing is wrong at all. He still sees the eyes in his dreams, in his mind. His thoughts are not his own.