#The one who is there for the lonely and the suffering and the abused and the forgotten
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softquietsteadylove · 23 days ago
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You think you can make another marriage contract AU and show us how Gil is careful around her and such? It was such a sweet interaction from the last one I do wish to see it another time in another situation. Pretty please? 💚
"You're doing pretty good," Gilgamesh chuckled, leaving Thena to her chopping now that she seemed to be getting the hang of it. Very slowly, but still.
"You don't have to patronise me," she muttered as she sliced through the onion carefully. He had already done the cross chopping for her, all she had to do now was slice down straight.
"I'm not, I'm not, I really think you're doing great." He looked over his shoulder again but Thena was almost leaned down to be eye level with her task at hand. She really was terrible in the kitchen, but it was nothing short of charming.
Gil opened up the higher cabinets to retrieve some wine glasses for them. Thena didn't have a habit of drinking, but he had seen her enjoy a glass of wine with dinner here or there. And he'd brought home some nice champagne that he'd gotten out of a business deal. After he'd wiped the blood off the label, of course. "Y'know, I think-"
The glass slipped from his fingers on its way down, its large and crystal figure shattering on the kitchen floor. It was sharp against the serenity of the smooth music he'd selected for the quiet evening.
"Ay shi-" he cursed, stepping back in his house slippers. He looked over, the yelp that had hit the air registering in his mind. He frowned, "Thena?"
She had let out the sound of panic and ducked down. She was crouched on her knees, arms curled over her head. It was a reflex, based on pure instinct. And he hated to see it.
He left the glass on the floor. He could tend to it in a minute. He walked carefully, trying to approach her as gently as possible. "I'm sorry, Thena."
She was shaking. But she peeked out at him, shame written all over her face. "S-Sorry, I didn't-"
"Don't be sorry," he soothed, placing his hands on her shoulders. He helped her stand and lean on the counter. "It scared me, too. Are you okay?"
She nodded, but he could see the trembling in her fingers.
He took her hand in his, "come on, let's sit down."
She didn't argue with him, which was as good a sign as any that she wasn't feeling her best. She let him lead her to the couch, "I'm fine, Gil, really."
He liked it when she called him Gil. "You don't have to be. I'm sorry I startled you."
She shook her head, but a familiar look of annoyance came over her. "No, I...I would like nothing more than to say it's nothing."
He continued to hold her hand. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
She sighed. She really didn't, but she was going to anyway. She curled her legs up on the couch. He helped her sort out the blanket of his she liked to lay over them. "Would you be surprised if I brought up my father?"
He tried to keep his answers passive and neutral. This was her story, and it wouldn't do any good for him to start cursing about what a rat bastard piece of shit that guy was.
"He became more violent the older I became," Thena recited as if it were blase and not something horrifying. "By the time I was an adult, he realised that I was no longer so easy to intimidate. But throwing things was still effective."
Gil balled his fist up under the blanket. Her father would throw his drink glasses at her? Maybe letting him live wasn't the solution, no matter how much the drunk gambling addict owed him.
"It wasn't every night, but if he really needed something, he would throw anything we had on hand," she concluded. The way she met his eye was a sign that she was done telling the story, and moreover she was done with the vulnerability it took to tell it.
Gil pulled his hand out from the blanket and moved it slowly, making sure it was in her direct line of vision. It was one of those things he had learned was good for her when she had moved in. When she couldn't see all of him was when she was most on edge. So he moved slowly, talked gently.
And not just because of his vow to take care of her as his wife. They didn't have to be married for him to believe that she deserved to be cared for, especially after all she had endured on her own already.
Thena watched as he reached for her hand again. She gave it, and it seemed she was becoming more and more willing to share in those little kinds of affections.
He raised her hand to his lips equally slowly, and she allowed it. For all he had done already to acclimate her to her life being married to him, he was not a barbarian, and he wouldn't force her to accept anything she didn't want. That included the simplest, smallest of things, like a kiss on the hand.
She tilted her head.
"I'm sorry, Thena, I should have been more careful," he resolved, already thinking about having all the glassware moved to lower down, open shelves so there was less chance of a surprise like this.
"It was an accident, Gil, these things are bound to happen," she excused for him, and he thought perhaps too eagerly. She leaned forward in her seat on the couch, towards him. "If anything I wish my reaction could be different."
Why had he spared her father's life? Oh, because he worked for the police department and it always paid to have someone in there under his thumb. But he was seriously reconsidering it now.
"There was a time when I would have said he would never do such a thing."
It was a quiet confession, and she was even smiling. But he knew those words well; he had thought them plenty of times when he was young. But learning the business really beat that mentality away. And Thena didn't deserve to know that firsthand.
"Why don't you sit?" he suggested gently, giving both her hands a squeeze, "I'll finish dinner."
She pouted at him, and it was way (way) too cute. "But the onion isn't done. And I was doing quite well, all things considered."
He had to smile. She was proud of her progress, and it wasn't just the onion to be considered in that. He chuckled; he admired this part of Thena. This was the same woman who had been offered two options: marry him as a form of insurance, mutual destruction to keep her father in line and in business with them, or to let him kill her father, although it would leave her destitute with her father's bad name looming over her. And she had chosen the option that was arguably more daunting, and tougher.
And how could he not fall in love with a woman like that?
Thena stood, throwing her blanket off her legs herself, putting her hands on her hips. "And you told me you would show me what 'julienne' meant once I finished."
It was just slicing things lengthwise, on an angle to get technical. But he smiled up at his beautiful wife - reminded himself that she considered them married in name only - and stood with her. "Anything you want, sweetheart."
She pursed her lips at the familiar words. He knew she thought they were hollow and placating, but he really did mean them. If she ever wanted for anything while she was with him, all she had to do was ask.
"Hey."
She half turned, already partway down the three wide and curved stairs that separated the foyer and kitchen from the sitting area. Maybe this fancy architecture, artsy mansion was too much (like Thena said). "Hm?"
He walked to her, hands in his pockets. He leaned over slowly, and she didn't lean back and out of his reach. Eventually, his lips collided with her forehead, as intended.
When he looked at her again, her eyes fluttered a little bit, and he was pretty sure she was blushing. She really made it hard not to develop feelings for his own wife.
He retrieved the broom from the pantry and started sweeping up the glass.
Thena frowned, "Gil, I can-"
"Don't even think about it, hot stuff," he winked at her, just for the fun of it. She bristled. "Focus on getting that onion done by the time I'm finished. Then maybe I'll show you how to mandolin."
"The musical instrument?"
She really was terrible in the kitchen, and he couldn't have adored her more for it.
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mollymarymarie · 1 year ago
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just wanted to tell you that reading DOH changed my life a bit!!! it helped me realize that I want to work in a job that will help children get out of bad situations!! I had such a hard time deciding what classes I should take for college, I didn't know what I wanted to be. but reading that fic and seeing how Remus and Dora and everyone just helped these kids??? omg. life changed moment.
I'm literally speechless over this!! First of all, thank you for reading it in the first place, and thank you for sending me this ask to let me know that my silly little love story made a difference in your life. I know it's just fanfic, it's just a story, it's just pretend, but this story, and all my stories, all mean something to me, so to hear that they mean something to someone else is ENORMOUSLY important to me.
Even more important to me that you felt like that story helped you come to an important decision AND THAT YOUR DECISION WAS TO HELP OTHER PEOPLE, especially those who need it most. I'm genuinely crying, just writing this out because you are so wonderful and I am so proud of you!!! Please keep me updated on this!
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maegalkarven · 1 year ago
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Big fan of Levi accidentally becoming a paragon of monstrous, lost, forsaken and the dead.
His newly developing compassion doesn't discriminate and it means he can sympathize with all kind of creatures, especially the "inheritly evil" ones.
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erasedcitizen2 · 5 days ago
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going with the extremely unpopular opinion here on this thread that having a hobby take up more than one room of a house/apartment is not the same as expressing your taste or personality. "man caves" or as I prefer to see it "hobby rooms" are actually a pretty reasonable compromise. I'm extremely grateful that I have a partner that I can discuss interior design with when it comes to our living space and that both of us are ok with our mutual hobby of gaming being in the... y'know... gaming room... instead of hanging gaming related posters everywhere or having shelves of collectibles in the living room. If you are not both onboard with having the kind of home where a shelf full of collectibles in the living room is an interior design choice you both are into... then it's a HUGE sacrifice for one of the people involved to dedicate the entire living room to displaying these collectibles. Because that IS going to be the center piece of the entire room if you do that. Especially if you live in an apartment with limited space.
I’ve seen this new trend of girls posting videos like “I hate my boyfriend for bringing all of his stupid boy things into our apartment when we moved in together 🙄” and then pictures of his hot wheels collection or a Halloween skeleton or an extremely cool pirate flag. Give him to me you do not deserve him.
#i love plushies but I keep it to a small number we can keep in our bed without our sleep suffering#not a collection that covers the entire bedroom#there really is a difference#it can also be really exhausting if you do really care what your home looks like#to have a partner just shrug their shoulders and go 'i don't care what it looks like so you decide'#but then suddenly their ugly ass favorite chair is Out of The Question to change#or their collectibles HAVE TO be displayed#but they refuse to engage meaningfully in HOW to keep their favorite things AND make the home beautiful at the same time#cause they 'don't care about having a beautiful home'#but that's just my own experience from a previous relationship#anecdotally this type of apathy behavior and lack of compromise#can often be a root cause of a partner 'hating' the other partner's hobby#not always of course obviously there's people who are just abusive hobby hating dicks out there#but just saying maybe you don't have the entire picture in every case#it's like my friend who is not a gamer is engaged to a guy who is a gamer#she HATES gaming now#but really it's because he screams all the fucking time when he's gaming so she has to live in that noise#or that he wont say hello to her when she comes home cause he's gaming and that makes her feel lonely#it's not always actually about the partner being a hobby hater#even if it appears that way from the outside when they go 'ugh i hate his collectibles and never wanna see them again'#or in my friend's case 'ugh i hate rocket league it's a game for children'#(hint: it's not actually about whether rocket league is a game for children or not)#there's plenty of little ways we can over time make our partner hate our hobby#and being forced to stare at it during breakfast every day while wishing there was a beautiful painting you BOTH liked on that wall instead#can be one of those ways
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esyra · 1 year ago
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After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.
Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.
Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.
By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.
When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.
Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.
Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.
Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.
For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.
Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.
That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!
So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.
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People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.
Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."
They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.
Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.
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a-hazbin-reader · 1 year ago
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OK ANOTHER IDEA
OK SO WE KNOW THAT ALASTOR IS A MAMAS BOY AND HAS AN AMAZING RELATIONSHIP WITH HER
SO WHAT IF ALASTOR HAD A FEM S/O BUT SHE HAS A TERRIBLE RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM, ITS JUST SO EMOTIONALLY TOXIC (especially with reader being an older sibling)
reader never tells him though because alastors relationship with his mom is good and she doesn’t wanna make him feel bad whenever he talks about her and one day readers mom comes to the hotel and reader DREADS it and becomes snappy but readers mom wins everyone over (of course alastor too). So when reader explains that she doesn’t want her mom around alastor can’t understand why and reader feels betrayed its only later when readers mom shows her true colors towards reader. And reader of course bites back (or at least tries too)
So basically angst to fluff and SORRY IF THATS SO MUCH😭😭
👀 Mommy issues??? 👀
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Emotionally Abusive mother, Reader suffering, Reader gets grabbed a few times, Ambiguous ending for mama
Description: ☝️⬆️
When it comes to mothers, it's safe to say you and Alastor had very different experiences
His mother was full of warmth and kindness towards him, doing her best to build him up into a great man
She loved him greatly and it shows whenever he talks about her
But your mother?? Your mother saw you as fucking competition and always found ways to put you down, to make herself better than you
Well maybe she should be the one who was cooking the meals, getting your younger siblings off to school on time or making sure everyone had clean clothes
Just the thought of her made your stomach flip and your legs shake
She would put you down all your life while claiming it was so that you could be a great woman just like her, but not too great, you have to remember who the better woman is
Well now you're both in hell so-
You put as much distance between her and yourself as you could, living your afterlife without her influence
You even got yourself a handsome powerful overlord boyfriend and new friends to share your life with
Even though you're supposed to be in hell, you couldn't be happier
At least you were until your mother showed up at the hotel, her face full of faux worry and tears
"Oh my precious girl! This is where you've been hiding? I was so worried!!"
Before Charlie can even shut the door, your mother has already shoved her way inside and literally dug her claws into you, hugging you
It's all you can do not to throw up, smothered by her familiar scent and grip, hearing her voice again after all this time
"Now let Mommy take a look at you-oh!!! And here I was worried that you were starving! Good to know you've put some weight on those bones!"
And it's already starting-
And now she's crying and rocking you in her arms, cooing about how much she's missed you and how she's never letting you go again
Charlie and the others are just staring at the two of you, completely enraptured by your mother, like everyone always is
She loved being the center of attention
When you finally come to your senses you push her away and create some distance, disturbed by the worried looks everyone is giving her
"Mom, why are you here?"
Oh don't everyone look at you like you're the bad guy!! She's the one who's only here because she wants something!!
"Maybe I wouldn't have to come track you down if you would just visit your poor mother every once in a while...she never even calls me, you know!"
And now she's crying again, Charlie immediately going to comfort her while Vaggie gives you a dirty look
Fucking mommy issues much? Don't fall for this crap
"I don't want to visit you, so just leave-"
"Well now, who is this~?"
Alastor! Yes! He can make her leave! You turn to give your boyfriend a pleading look but your mother catches his attention first
"Oh don't worry about who I am.. just a poor lonely mother who came to see her daughter...but I guess I'll show myself out.."
Alastor doesn't have to guess who she's talking about, even in death you always looked like your mother
His smile gets surprisingly warm and soft, taking your mother's hand in his own in a disgusting display of affection that used to only be for you
"You're Y/N's mother? My my, I should've guessed! You must have so many stories of her from her life! I simply must insist that you say."
ALASTOR NO
You feel sick but nobody notices, your mother already soaking up their attention and winning their hearts
So you turn and leave the hotel, unable to stand being in her presence any longer, you don't miss the smug look she gives you on your way out
You spend all day trying to avoid going back to the hotel until you're sure your mother is gone
You're more than disappointed to find her drinking tea with Alastor, the two of them laughing, her placing her hand on top of his
She always used to try and go after your boyfriends and that hasn't changed either
She hasn't changed
"Oh darling~! We hadn't realized you left! Alastor and I were simply having a moment~"
Alastor lights up when he sees you, only to be visibly confused by your troubled expression
"Y/N! Your mother was just telling me about her life before you! She was quite a wildcard back then!"
Your mother is practically drooling over him, rubbing his hand and winking
"I'm still wild if you ever care to find out!"
You've had it
You tug your mother's hand off of Alastor, forcing her to stand up and look you in the eyes
"You need to leave! Right now!"
And here come the waterworks again
"Y/N..! Darling, what did I do wrong? I'm your mother please don't throw me out like this!"
You just start pushing her towards the door and you slam it shut behind her, sighing in relief
That is until you look at Alastor's face, his smile seeming strained
"Y/N! You can't just throw her out like that, not only is that bad manners but that's no way to treat the woman who raised you!"
Raised you? You raised yourself!!
"Alastor, you don't know what you're talking about so please just stay out of it. You don't know what she's like-"
You're trying to stay calm-
"She's your mother, it's not like she's some evil creature-"
"SHE'S IN HELL OF COURSE SHE'S EVIL-"
"So are you and I, my dear."
You try to put your foot down, tell him that you don't want her here but he's already opening the door for her and letting her back in
She looks so pleased with herself
He invites her to stay the night because of course he does, he would do it for his own mother so why not yours
You try not to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry but your eyes are already hot and watery
"I-I'm going to bed..!"
Alastor calls for you, trying to resolve things then and there but the only response he gets is your door slamming shut
He goes to go after you but your mother stops him with a gentle hand to the shoulder
"Now now...let her cool off for a bit then I'll go make sure she's alright, a mother always knows how to cheer up her child~"
It feels like you spend hours crying in your bed, feeling so hurt that Alastor took her side over yours
Your mom isn't like his, she doesn't nurture, she just takes from you and bullies you
Later, just when you've about cried yourself to sleep, you hear the bedroom door open
"Alastor..?"
"Not a chance, pet."
Now what does she want
"Why are you even here?"
Suddenly she pounces on you, grabbing your wrists tightly, eyes wild with fury she must've been containing this whole time
You don't even know why she's so mad at you, you haven't seen her in years-
"You think you're better than me now, is that it? Now that you're on your own, living in some fancy hotel, got some powerful boytoy, hiding behind hell's princess?"
As a kid, she seemed so strong but now you easily rip out of her grasp and manage to create some distance between you two
"I'm not hiding behind anyone! I'm just trying to get away from you!"
"Oh no no no, that's not how this works! I am your mother! If I have to be miserable and live in filth then so do you!"
"Why are you even here!?"
"Because it's not fair! I deserve to be here! Not some ungrateful little bitch who just happened to fall out of me!"
She lunges at you and you try to dodge her but she manages to grab you by your hair, yanking you back
You're about to start swinging when Alastor is suddenly there, watching the two of you in bewilderment
Then that bewilderment melts away into understanding, then anger
The radio sounds in the room are suddenly deafening, your mother letting go of you so she can cover her ears
You take the chance to kick her away, watching as she tumbles and loses consciousness from the impact
Alastor kneels beside you but you flinch away from him, still feeling hurt
"Y/N...I'm so sorry..." He does look properly ashamed, his smile a little watery
"Why didn't you just tell me that she was like this..?"
How could you even begin to start?? That you didn't want to somehow sour his opinion of mothers by telling him about your own?
That you didn't want him to feel guilty for having a mother who loved him while you grew up having to be a mother to your siblings because your own mom had none to give??
It's just word vomit at this point, but Alastor simply gathers you into his arms, tutting as he checks your scalp and fixes your hair
When he gets to your wrists where your mother grabbed than his smile turns positively venomous, giving your mother a deadly look
"What do you want me to do with her? Anything you ask..."
You're a little irritated that he brought her up, having been too relaxed by the feeling of his lips against your palm
"I just want her out of here..."
And that's all it takes, Alastor calls for Niffty and has her take out the trash, her scuttling out gleefully while dragging your mother
Niffty doesn't even care, she's just happy to have a new toy
You didn't realize how stressed out you were until it was just the two of you, Alastor rubbing your back soothingly
You don't know when you fall asleep but when you wake up Alastor is kissing the side of your face, looking as apologetic as he can be
You manage to convince him to apologize in morning snuggles and by the time you two come downstairs everyone else is awake
"Where is Y/N's mom?"
Not Niffty giggling and running out of the room
Alastor simply shakes his head and wraps an arm around your waist to hold you closer
"She is gone and won't ever be visiting again, I would like to ask that nobody brings her up again~"
Something about the way he says it manages to shut everyone up
Alastor takes you out to eat your favorite breakfast and spends the day spoiling you
He doesn't bring up the events of last night until the two of you are in bed, entangled in each other's arms
"You didn't ruin my opinion of mothers, you know."
"I didn't?"
"No, in fact, it sounds like you were quite the mother back in your day~"
Not his hand rubbing your belly
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OH MAMA THIS ONE TOOK ALL DAY! I hope you liked it!!
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colourstreakgryffin · 1 year ago
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Oh my gosh! HELLOO!
Anywho~
I had a request for Alastor with a reader who’s contract with Valentino just ended and Angel brings them to the hotel to help them get on their feet, they have lots of trauma from what the endured, maybe they stay close to Alastor because he’s very much a gentleman and never treats them like Val did?
Thank you!!
Oooh! I like this one a lot! We got a second Angel but unlike Angel, we’re probably better and less snarky and bitchy. Sorry, Angel. Anyway! Idk if it’s meant to be romantic or not so I am gonna guess—
Alastor- Redemption Path
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Alastor can’t help but feel sorry and feel pity for you. You’re just like Angel but you aren’t as bad as Angel. A ex-pornstar that has finally been free from the pimp Overlord, Valentino and your dear friend Angel Dust is so relieved that you’re safe from him, now, he’ll take even more measures to make sure you’ll do better than him
Bringing you to the Hazbin Hotel, Angel Dust introduced you to the Hotel Staff. Hoping they could help get you back into Hell more stably. Out of Charlie feeling immense sorry for your sexual abuse trauma, Vaggie considering to sign you up for counselling and Angel Dust barking at Husk to be nicer to you. Alastor is the one who is the most interested in you
Alastor is the one who escorted you around the Hotel. He is the only one who treated you so perfectly, he is a true sweet gentleman and he is doing much for you that it’s unbelievable. He doesn’t want anything from you? How is that possible
Throughout the days since you first checked in as a client, Alastor notices the way you follow him around and he finds it adorable. You’re such a lost lonely little puppy needing somewhere to feel safer and he doesn’t mind playing that little safety spot for you. It’s quite amusing
“Oh. My dear, is something bugging you?” Alastor asked curiously as he finally turns around to face the cute eager shorter sinner that has been clinging onto him and following him around ever since he was polite and ‘respectful’ to them. Treating them like a person and not like an object. Unlike the first and only Overlord they knew at the time, he doesn’t even notice their curvy attractive body or make creepy sexual remarks in the slightest
He just compliments the cozy colourful classy outfits they’d wear, calling each and every one ‘adorable’. He finds you adorable as a whole and he is entertained that you’re so enamoured by his kindness, that you act like a baby fawn following his mother around
The sinner that has been following him around all day, takes a few seconds to even blink. You’re shyer around Alastor since he actually gives you a voice and a say-so, something you’re unfamiliar with. Having that… you never did back with Valentino and it’s almost overwhelming that such a friendly treatment is addictive to have, the way he handles you with delicacy. He isn’t usually a man to sympathise with an awful situation but for some reason, he sympathised with you in his own special little way. You’re thankful that he is even more polite and caring than anybody you’ve ever met, even Angel!
“Oh. My, you’re shivering. Are you cold?” You didn’t actually answer Alastor with words but instead with actions, approaching him and shyly reaching out for a handhold but you didn’t actually touch him, reminding yourself of his no touching clause. You hoped he’d let you slide this once. You don’t really have anybody to talk to after you were jolted awake from night terrors over what that awful squeaking sex-obsessed freak of a moth did to you throughout your contract with him
Angel is there as a friend but he’s busy still suffering under Valentino’s maniac rule right now, you don’t want to bother any of the staff nor Charlie about your problems whilst they are busy. Sooooo
You figured your emotional support, the one who has been very patient and understanding with you. He hasn’t let you down once just of yet
Alastor willingly takes your hand when he recognises your reach out attempt and brings you up to his side in a lone but strong tug. Not minding the sweater you wore being your only coverage for your bottom half. Just a cute off-the-shoulder sweater and thigh highs. Whilst your style mirrored Angel’s in an odd way, you didn’t gross the Radio Demon out like the current top pornstar did. You’re more innocent, more sophisticated
You’re nothing like Angel, despite escaping from the same ugly world as that spider sinner is still trapped in. You’re a recovering traumatised, overexploited pornstar in need of help to gain a new life within Hell and Alastor actually likes the idea of playing that knight in shining armour you clearly view him as. He can’t tell why but he likes it
Leading you down the empty, slightly dark hallway with one arm around your body to keep you close, pressing your face against the side edge of his broad chest and the other slightly stylishly twirling his signature staff-like microphone cane, the Radio Host plans to take care of you in other ways then just hand you some blankets and set you out to your own Hotel room. He’d prefer to personally put you to sleep and the process would be begin with a picture show, a talk and a darker warmer room
You didn’t know why but your face was beet red, your heart was pounding in your chest and your eyes sparkled as you tilted your slightly fuzzy head up to look at Alastor. In, what felt like a blink, his crimson red eyes flashed a sense of genuine affection before returning to the usual half-emotionless bloody haze as the radio effect on his rather mighty voice kicks in with the overlap of both sincerely caring and classic semi-mocking Alastor style caring
It doesn’t help that you swear you can feel his heartbeat grow faster…
Is Alastor feeling the same you are?!
“Come now, darling. You’re clearly having bad sleeping patterns. How about me and you watch that picture show you’ve been holding off? Yes. Yes, I know. I don’t like your technology but I wouldn’t be a help provider if I didn’t provide you help, now would I?”
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allpiesforourown · 5 months ago
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Goodnight this may be a controversial take, but I really don't understand why people think Bingge's wives don't care about him.
He's gone on incredible adventures with these women, saved their lives by curing their ailments, and had children with them. In fact many of his wives, like Yingying and Mingyan, are explicitly said to have very good character, so why would he have a harem of women who only use him??
Even the palace mistress, as bratty and entitled as she is, cared for Luo Binghe in her own way. Yes from our point of view, we hated her for hurting Shen Qingqiu. But for her, all she wanted was to deliver justice for Binghe’s 'suffering'. If a girl sneaks into a prison to beat the shit out of your abuser because she's so heartbroken about your alleged mistreatment, that's NOT fickle crush behaviour.
I thunk it's easy to excuse Bingge's actions by saying, "Oh he was always lonely and unloved, that's why he turned out like that!" But there's really nothing to suggest that's true. If anything, it's said that Bingge is the one who uses his wives.
Maybe Bingge is just a lonely emperor and all his wives are just gold diggers who would abandon him at the drop of a hat. Or maybe, he has a large amount of people who love him and genuinely would help him, but were never allowed into his heart. Maybe his selfish behaviour is his own fault.
Bingge’s wives couldn't provide him the love that he needed to be happy, but that doesn't mean they failed as wives. Sometimes people can't fill the holes in our hearts, and that doesn't make their role in our life any less valuable.
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insolentgod · 8 months ago
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reminder extremely tough and maybe a little harsh.
a lot of folks gotta work themselves to death just to have a halfway comfortable life, some don't even have the basics. many will have to do crazy stuff for money and others dream of giving their loved ones a good life but can't. some will only be able to see luxurious lifestyles on phone screens or in other people's TikTok accounts. and others don't even have the money to pay for internet to see that.
lots of people will spend years hating themselves, hating their appearance, personality, social life, social status, skills, everything about themselves. many live with insecurities, feeling like a supporting character in their own story, some have things that bother them but it's "impossible" to change them so they'll just have to live with it. others spend a fortune on surgeries or treatments to change something about themselves, and many die because of it.
many people will have to live trying to recover from traumas and bad things that hit them, without knowing how to simply erase them from their lives, and unfortunately, some prefer to end their own lives so they don't have to live with those burdens.
many people will have to face horrible diseases, some they simply can't get rid of and others that are incurable. suffering, waiting for a miracle to free them from this torture.
some folks may never achieve their personal goals and dreams, out of fear, lack of opportunity, lack of means, or because they think it's impossible for them. so consequently they will have to surrender to a mediocre life that they hate.
many people will have to spend years in shitty relationships without knowing how to get out, others will see the love of their life being happy with someone else, others will think that love only serves to deeply hurt them, and others will accept horrible things from their partners because they think they don't deserve anything better.
a lot of folks unfortunately live out there lonely, without love, without a good social circle, without friends, with an abusive family, with people who don't want the best for them, with people who only hurt them and make them think that's what they deserve.
you might think I'm a jerk for talking about such harsh examples and I'm sorry if I hurt anyone, but damn..
all these examples I mentioned are really sad and they leave us with a heavy heart thinking that a lot of people go through this. I think everyone deserves a dignified and happy life, you deserve a dignified and happy life. you don't deserve to be like those people in the examples I mentioned, and you're not. because you have a key in your hands. it's like life is a damn game and you have all the hacks and cheats to simply WIN and do whatever you want, while other people don't even dream of that or are too skeptical to try.
but you know what's funniest about this? it's that this shit ain't just any game, it's your life. it's literally your damn life and you're there playing with the law? saying "oh I can't" "oh persisting is too hard" "I think I'll never have my desires".
girl, I'll kill you if you keep thinking like that.
there are folks who just don't take the loa seriously, and that's why they never fulfill their desires!!!!!!!!!!!! and they won't have anyone to blame for their failure but themselves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
the LOA community is very small, discovering about it was extremely lucky. so tell me a good reason why you know about it and simply can't manifest? exactly. there isn't one! you can and you should.
I'm not here to judge your difficulties in manifesting (even if I judge everything and everyone), because having difficulties and keep trying is one thing and simply giving up and saying "I can't manifest" is another.
it was a blessing from the universe, God, higher power, whatever you believe in. you discovering LOA was the damn greatest blessing of your life, don't you see that? don't you really see how blessed you are? maybe in the past you've been through hell, but now, my love, the sun is shining for you, you just have to want to shine. unfortunately a lot of people will never have that luck, there are people who would kill to be blessed like this. so please, I beg you... use this tool and have the damn happiest life you can, enjoy it and stop playing with the law.
tell me what do you really want? a true and light love? have a look that would never make you feel insecure again? being the pride of mommy and daddy and having their love? having that beautiful house and a happy family? finally healing from depression or other mental disorders and finally being able to live to the fullest? friends who really care about you? want to meet that idol you've been a fan of for a long time and that everyone thinks your passion for him is silly? want to live in that country far away from everyone? want to stop feeling that guilt or any other bad feeling that has been tormenting you for a long time? want to be truly happy for the first time in your life? want to be rich, a millionaire, billionaire, trillionaire? or just have enough money to lead a comfortable life and never have to work again? go ahead, tell me what you want. you can have it.
stop suffering, you don't deserve to suffer. enough torture. take what's yours and move on. you're strong enough for that. the game ain't over for you, you can't just give up like that. the game is yours, it obeys you, and it ends when you decide. take freaking control.
i suffered a lot in life, i hope one day i have the courage to tell you about my success here. and I simply don't know what I would do without finding out about LOA, just thinking about it fills my heart with gratitude. I feel like a winner. you deserve to feel this peace of having won too.
God bless you. take care of yourselves and put your head to work.
i ain't that selfish. if you need some backup, im here for you, babe. I wanna see you win. 🌟
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specialgradefckr · 2 months ago
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tw: emotional incest/enmeshment, codependency, abusive/neglectful childhood
thinking about how satoru gojo could never be normal about having a twin, even just a fraternal one.
he's the six eyes. his birth is celebrated, it shakes the world.
you were just... born.
except the moment they take you to another room he starts crying and he won't stop. he can't even tolerate being put in a different crib. he has to be next to you at all times.
satoru gojo who is born with separation anxiety. you've always been be his side, even in the womb. he can't be away from you.
how you grow up together, going to the same special classes for jujutsu prodigies. satoru on a lonely journey to master the six eyes while you sit next to him quietly reading romance novels.
you have the family technique, of course. maybe your birth would have even been celebrated, if it weren't overshadowed by a power that comes around every six generations or so.
instead, all anyone can ever talk about - think about - is the legendary six eyes, reborn at last. he is showered with gifts and praises and expectations.
satoru gojo knows what he's worth to his family as soon as they plant ancient texts in front of him to learn from.
he's power. the confirmation of their supremacy over their rivals that they've been waiting for. he was born a winner, and the gojo clan is eager to claim their share of the winnings.
but to you? he's your one and only brother. for you, loving him is as easy as breathing.
you're not dramatic like he is, you don't burst into tears the moment you're separated. no one would care even if you did - it was always about what the young lord needed and wanted.
no. instead you're a silent shadow, washed out by his spotlight, ever-clinging and following wherever he goes, wordlessly.
satoru only has to look in your direction for you to share the toy or book you're carrying, offer his hand for you to hold, sit down so you can play with his hair.
he places a kiss on your cheek, or squeezes your hand, or hugs you when you go to sleep, and it wins him an easy smile, one that feels as precious as gold.
when he's with you, he's happy. warm. what those other people want and do doesn't matter. he only has to amuse himself, and you.
you're always with him, just like he's always with you. even if you're not looking at him, you're in his orbit, a constant presence that calms him as the years go by.
he doesn't follow you into the bathroom or throw a fit when you leave his sight, but only because he knows you'll return soon - you want to return soon.
satoru who sees his parents for the first time when they come to visit you.
he's a legend, and his parents weren't fit to raise someone like him. that was arranged from the moment of his birth, even if they were rewarded for producing him.
his rearing and training was of concern to the whole gojo clan, to be done by the best that money could by, with no room for attachments. they only suffered you so long by his side because he was inconsolable otherwise.
satoru who sees them meet with you, talk to you with eager faces, eyes glancing over him with hesitation and nervousness.
they're not here for money or power. they don't want anything to do with him. they want you.
you, a normal child, their child, who they could finally take home now that satoru was old enough.
satoru gojo who doesn't let them take you away. who doesn't feel bad, not even a little bit, when he sends his (your) parents away with a chilling, six-eyed glare.
the only family you need is him.
(you're the only family he'll ever have).
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joyfulcowboycandy · 3 months ago
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The princess in the tower... And the dragon?
Malleus x Reader
❥ one shot
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Content warning: murder, angst and fluff, malleus is very tall, hints of past sexual assault
fem reader
The princess in the tower… And the dragon?
This is how the story goes:
A beautiful princess from a faraway kingdom is kidnapped and held captive in a tower by an evil and strong dragon, and the knight must slay the dragon and save her from his evil clutches. The princess then falls in love with the strong knight who risked his life to save her, and they lived happily ever after.
This "princess," however, is far different from how the story is meant to go.
She is no princess at all.
Y/n is merely a common girl who ran away from a life of suffering, seeking refuge in a lonely tower in the middle of a desolate forest. She found solace here, safe from the cruelty of others. But the tower had a guardian of its own—a dragon. Not that she knew it at first.
The dragon was enormous, far too large to ever fit inside the tower, so at first, she thought she could stay without much trouble. After all, she reasoned, dragons don’t communicate with humans… Do they? If he wanted to harm her, he would’ve done so by now. Yet, despite his fearsome appearance, he never attacked her. Instead, he left her alone, merely resting atop the tower. He even brought her berries and fruits. It was confusing. Back in her village, dragons were supposed to be vile creatures—monsters of destruction.
But unlike the people she once knew, the dragon never hurt her. And that was all that mattered.
Back in her village, life had been anything but safe. Y/n was forever scarred by that one night, the night when she dared to speak up about the man who assaulted her. He was a respected figure, shielded by his reputation, while she was met with disbelief and scorn. Her cries for justice were silenced, twisted into accusations that she had tarnished his honor. Her family turned their backs on her, and the verbal abuse became unbearable. They accused her of lying, of bringing shame upon them. The whispers, the judgment, it all closed in on her, suffocating her until she could no longer bear it.
The fear of men had embedded itself deep in her heart, long before she ever arrived at the tower. Their leering gazes, their unchecked power—it had always terrified her. The man who hurt her wasn’t an isolated case. She’d witnessed the way men in the village treated women—like possessions, tools for their amusement, and nothing more. And her voice, like so many others, had been ignored.
The tower became her sanctuary, and the dragon… oddly enough, her only comfort.
He never tried to speak to her. He never tried to control her. He only existed, a quiet presence at the top of the tower. It was strange how she found herself feeling safe in his silent company, even if she knew nothing about him. There were no words exchanged, no gestures of friendship. But he brought her food, he never entered her space, and most importantly—he never tried to harm her.
The men who came after her, however, were nothing like the dragon.
One day, the peaceful silence was shattered by the sound of hooves pounding against the forest floor. Y/n’s heart jumped into her throat as she rushed to the window, peeking out just enough to see a knight approaching the base of the tower. A sinking feeling filled her chest as she backed away, trembling. He called out for her, and although she didn’t respond, she could feel his eyes tracking her every movement from below. The way he stared at her… it was enough to freeze her blood.
She didn’t want to face him, didn’t want him to come any closer. But when he started climbing up the tower, panic surged through her veins.
In his eyes, she was nothing more than a prize. A damsel in distress that needed saving. It disgusted her how these men—knights, they called themselves—felt entitled to her. They believed they could show up, kill the dragon, and take her hand in marriage as if she were a mere trophy. She’d seen that look in their eyes before. It wasn’t concern. It wasn’t compassion. It was desire. Lust. Greed.
She didn’t trust him. She couldn’t.
So, when he reached the top and looked at her with those hungry eyes, her fear turned into cold determination. She pushed him down the tower, watching as he fell.
The sickening thud echoed below.
It wasn’t the end, though. Someone found the body, and after that, more men came—knights in shining armor, each more eager than the last to claim the “princess” for themselves. None of them cared what she wanted. They were predators, and their so-called chivalry was nothing but a facade for their selfish ambitions.
They never once asked for her permission. They assumed their presence was wanted, that they had the right to "rescue" her. But she didn’t want to be rescued. She didn’t want them at all. And every time one of them climbed the tower, she pushed them down just the same. The rumors spread quickly—of a dragon killing knights left and right, all to protect the princess in the tower.
But she knew the truth. The dragon had done nothing.
In fact, the dragon had done more for her than any man ever had. He was gentle. He respected her space, and in return, she felt safer around him than she ever had with another human. It was strange, perhaps even foolish, to trust a dragon—an unpredictable creature of legend. But in his quietness, she found solace. He gave her berries and fruits, a kind of offering. Maybe the dragon, too, was lonely.
One evening, he left a clawful of berries by her window as usual. She hesitated for a moment before reaching out. With trembling hands, she touched his claw—a tentative gesture, a soft caress of gratitude. The dragon froze, as if startled by her touch. She could feel the cold, smooth surface beneath her fingers, the sharpness of his talons. Her heart pounded as she traced the lines of his scales, feeling a strange sense of connection.
Suddenly, he let out a low growl, pulling away quickly. Fear gripped her as she stepped back, her pulse racing in her chest. Did she do something wrong?
“T-thank you, dragon!” she stammered, her voice shaky with fear and something else—hope, maybe.
The dragon huffed, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberated through the air. Was it a response? She couldn’t tell. But she took it as one.
She watched him from the window, her eyes tracing his dark silhouette against the moonlit sky. For the first time in so long, she felt something other than fear—something closer to… peace. Maybe, just maybe, the dragon wasn’t as evil as the stories said.
Maybe they were both just trying to survive in a world that had been cruel to them.
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。˚꩜
Several days passed like this—her exchanging brief touches and whispers, him delivering food and resting on the roof of her tower. Until one day, something changed.
She had been waiting for the usual sound of his wings flapping when she heard something else—a soft footstep. Startled, she spun around, expecting another knight who had somehow scaled the tower. But when her eyes fell on the figure at the entrance, she froze.
He was very tall, but not in the imposing, armor-clad way of the knights. His clothes were dark, elegant, and his presence felt… different. The horns on his head glistened in the dim light of the moonlight, curling like the very symbol of power. His eyes, sharp and glowing, locked onto hers, and yet, they didn’t hold that familiar lust or greed she had come to expect. They were curious… warm.
Her breath hitched, her mind racing. Who—no, what was he? He wasn’t a knight, not a man here to take her away. But he wasn’t just any ordinary human either.
"Who… are you?" she whispered, voice trembling, not from fear, but from uncertainty.
The man—no, the creature—tilted his head, eyes softening. He didn’t speak, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was familiar, almost as if she had known him all along.
It clicked slowly in her mind. The dragon. The same eyes, the same gentle aura. He had always been watching over her, not as a threat, but as a guardian.
"You're... him, aren't you?" she murmured, stepping closer. She noticed the slight huff of air escaping his nose, much like the dragon’s low rumble when she thanked him. Her fear melted, replaced with wonder.
Her hands, almost instinctively, reached up toward his face, fingers lightly grazing his jawline. He stood still, just like he did when she touched his scales as a dragon, as if allowing her to confirm what she already knew.
He brought his hand up to meet hers, softly guiding it against his cheek. The coolness of his skin startled her—so cold, it almost seemed impossible that he was alive. In contrast, her hand was warm, curling instinctively against him, feeling the soft tickle of his hair as it cascaded over his shoulder and brushed lightly against her fingers.
“I am,” he finally spoke, his voice low and rich, carrying a quiet power that resonated deep within her.
There was no doubt left. He was the dragon—the creature that had watched over her, protected her from the horrors of the world, and silently kept her company all this time. And now, he stood before her in this form, speaking, meeting her touch with a tenderness that was both startling and comforting.
"Why… why didn’t you tell me?" she whispered, her fingers still resting against his cold cheek, her voice barely more than a breath.
The corners of his lips twitched slightly, as if he wanted to smile but wasn’t used to it. His hand, still holding hers, gently lowered it from his face, though he didn’t let go. "You were afraid," he said, his gaze softening as he looked at her, the golden glow in his eyes dimming into something calmer, more serene. "And I did not wish to make you more so."
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "Afraid?" She almost laughed, though there was nothing humorous about it. "Of the knights, maybe, but never of you. You…" Her voice cracked, and she paused, taking in a shaky breath. "You’ve been the only one I could trust."
For the first time in a long while, the truth was spilling out of her. All those months of isolation, of pushing knights off the tower in desperate fear, and yet somehow, she had found solace in him—a dragon, a creature who shouldn’t have had any reason to care about her. She couldn’t even understand why herself.
His thumb brushed over the back of her hand, a barely-there gesture, but one that sent warmth spreading through her. "I have watched over you," he said quietly, "and I have seen your strength." His gaze flickered, the glow intensifying briefly. "But I have also seen your sorrow."
She blinked rapidly, her breath catching in her throat. It was true—her life had been marked by sorrow for as long as she could remember. The betrayal of her village, the trauma that haunted her every waking moment, the men who tried to take what wasn’t theirs to claim. They all left scars, both visible and invisible, and for so long, she had felt alone in carrying them.
But with him… she hadn’t felt so alone anymore.
"I don’t know why I stayed," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "When I first came here, I didn’t know if you were going to kill me, or… or worse." She laughed softly, a bitter sound. "But I couldn’t leave either. There was nowhere else to go."
"You stayed because you found safety," he murmured, his voice almost a growl, but one laced with understanding. "You stayed because you are not like them."
Her gaze met his, and for the first time, she didn’t feel the familiar tightness in her chest that came with looking into the eyes of a man. He wasn’t like them either. He wasn’t like the knights who invaded her sanctuary with their hungry gazes and false promises. He didn’t look at her like something to be claimed.
Slowly, she pulled her hand back, though her eyes remained fixed on him. "I’ve never met anyone like you," she confessed softly, taking a small step back, though she wasn’t retreating. She was just… overwhelmed. "You’re… not human, are you?"
He shook his head. "No. I am not."
She studied him for a long moment, her eyes tracing the curve of his horns, the ethereal glow of his eyes, the way he stood so still, so calm, so unlike any man she had ever known. And then, as if the weight of everything suddenly caught up with her, she let out a shaky breath. "I don’t know what to say," she whispered, her voice cracking with the weight of all the emotions swirling inside her.
"You don’t have to say anything," he replied gently. His voice was like the rumble of distant thunder, soft but powerful. "I will not force you to speak."
She bit her lip, her gaze lowering to the floor as she tried to collect her thoughts. "I just… I feel like I’ve been running for so long. Hiding." Her voice broke on the last word, and she quickly swiped at the tear that slipped down her cheek, hating how vulnerable she felt in this moment.
Malleus watched her in silence, his eyes never leaving her, though his expression never changed. He wasn’t judging her. He wasn’t pitying her. He was just… there, with her, in this moment. And that alone made her feel a strange kind of safety she hadn’t known in a long time.
"You don’t need to run anymore," he said quietly, his voice a low murmur that seemed to reverberate in her chest. "Not from me."
Her breath hitched, and for the first time, she felt the warmth of hope flicker inside her, fragile but present. Could it really be that simple? Could she really stop running? Stop hiding? It had been so long since she felt safe, truly safe.
And yet, here he was, the dragon she had once feared, now standing before her as her protector.
Tentatively, she reached out again, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his sleeve. "Then… stay," she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the stillness between them. "Don’t leave me alone."
His gaze softened further, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something she couldn’t quite place, but it warmed her all the same.
"As you wish," he replied, his voice as soft as the night air around them. "I will stay."
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bamfkeeper · 1 month ago
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All I Want. | K.W
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summary: It's so busy, you miss Kurt.
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warnings: GN!reader | Fluff | Brief mention of mutant treatment
a/n: I had a handful of requests/ideas I'm going to try to do. I love a lot of them so I'll do my best to pick the ideas that were mentioned more than once. For now here's this little drabble, not long but something cute. Not edited ignore mistakes. ;; wc: 1.3k
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The holidays turned the mansion into a whirlwind of endless activity and festive energy.
Every moment seemed filled with purpose as you moved from one seasonal task to another - mixing cookie dough in the warm kitchen while trying to keep prying blue hands away from the dough, building snowmen in the crisp winter air with the younglings, organizing decorations from dusty attic boxes, and carefully hanging twinkling lights along the hallways. The mansion buzzed with non-stop holiday preparations from sunrise to sunset, and while you had help from the other older mutants, the majority of the planning and decorating fell on your shoulders.
Between the constant motion of holiday tasks and the infectious excitement in the air, you found yourself working well past your usual limits, your body finally signaling its need for rest as evening approached.
The cold winter nights grew more and more frigid, nothing brought you more comfort than sinking into the plush embrace of the living room couch, wrapping your hands around a steaming mug of hot cocoa topped with a generous swirl of whipped cream and a sprinkle of crushed peppermint and cocoa shavings. The warmth of the dozen bamfs that gathered around you didn’t go unnoticed, creating a cozy cuddle pile with you. Their curiosity and playful nature showed as they cautiously stretched forward, tiny tongues darting out to steal tastes of the sweet cream and minty chocolate garnish that crowned your drink.
Kurt's presence had grown increasingly sparse lately. The holiday season always brought an overwhelming surge of responsibilities for the X-Men, as they encountered a significant increase in cases of abandoned mutants during this time of year. The harsh winter conditions made their missions even more critical, keeping the team constantly engaged in rescue operations.
The majority of mutants they discovered were victims of abuse or deliberately abandoned, left to face the bitter elements alone. The numerous children they found never failed to make your heart ache, young souls who had just begun to manifest their powers and were cast aside by those who should have protected them.
The weight of his absence pressed heavily on your heart.
This year had been particularly difficult, as your relationship with Kurt had been flourishing, you grew closer than you had been with anyone and finally felt comfortable in your own skin. Yet these precious moments of togetherness remained frustratingly elusive. The memory of his enthusiastic promises to share traditional recipes from his homeland lingered in your mind, but his overwhelming schedule had prevented that from happening.
Night after lonely night, you found yourself lying awake, wondering when he might finally return with enough time to dedicate to your shared moments together.
You hated feeling so selfish, but you also couldn't help it.
A gentle hand brushed against your cheek as one of the mischievous bamfs scrambled its way up to perch on your shoulder, its small tongue darting out to playfully lick away the spots of whipped cream that had collected on your lip and the tip of your nose. "H-Hey, hey, I think you've had enough sugar, all of you," you spoke with mild exasperation to the gathering of bamfs surrounding you, their eager eyes fixed on your drink as they continued their persistent attempts to steal a taste.
The sheer volume of cookies, candy canes, and other sweets they managed to consume on a daily basis had become a source of concern, and each night you found yourself anxiously waiting, fully expecting to discover them all suffering from severe sugar-induced stomach aches.
Yet their bellies were made of steel, the hellfire bellowing inside them scorching everything that hit their stomachs.
After what felt like an eternity of coaxing and gentle persuasion, you finally managed to get all of the little bamfs settled into their beds for the night. The last one had been particularly resistant, but eventually succumbed to sleep.
Exhausted from the long day, you made your way to the bathroom to complete your nightly routine. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, taking comfort in these familiar actions, none of it took much effort and was all muscle memory. When you finished, you reached for the light switch, flicking it off before wearily making your way out of the bathroom.
Your body felt heavy with fatigue as you climbed into bed, your mind already drifting toward the promise of sleep. Just as you were about to fall asleep, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around your waist. The unexpected contact sent a jolt of adrenaline through your system, instantly dispelling any trace of drowsiness from your body as all your muscles grew tight. On instinct, you threw your elbow backward in a defensive motion, connecting with something solid behind you.
"Ach - Scheiße!" Kurt's pained voice rang out as he quickly brought his hand up to cradle his nose. The sudden commotion caused several of the bamfs to materialize in your lap, their small forms bristling with protective energy. Their eyes glowed intensely in the darkness as they positioned themselves defensively with their backs puffed up, but upon recognizing Kurt, their aggressive posturing immediately melted away.
"Kurt?? Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," you muttered apologetically, your hand instinctively reaching out through the darkness to find his where it was pressed against his face. Your heart was still racing from the startle. "You completely caught me off guard there...I didn't even sense you in the room at all."
"Heh...it's alright, liebling...I should have let you know I returned from the mission early. I wanted to surprise you but...you had already gone to sleep." He gently rubbed his nose where you had accidentally struck him, before carefully taking your outstretched hand in his and leaning closer to study your face in the dim light. "You seem completely drained of energy, ja? Was it a particularly demanding day?" His brow furrowed with concern, causing his usually neat hair to fall forward in loose curls that partially obscured his worried expression.
Your hand drifted upward of its own accord to brush through his disheveled curls, trying to smooth them back into place. "Yeah I...I had a busy day..." you admitted with a tired sigh.
"Sprechen Sie mit mir." Kurt spoke gently, his voice a soothing whisper as he drew you close against his body. The winter season had blessed him with an exceptionally thick coat, his usual short fur now grown into a luxurious winter covering that was so soft and warm. You nestled deeper into his embrace, his typically velvet-like fuzz had grown into longer, softer strands that were just long enough to twirl playfully around your fingers, particularly abundant across his chest where it formed gentle curls.
His tail moved with gentle affection against your leg as he carefully positioned you both for comfort, creating a cozy space where you could share your stories. With interest reflecting in his eyes, Kurt settled in to hear about your day. He listened intently as you recounted your baking experience with the bamfs, playing outside with the children, and decorating like an expert. You were pretty proud of yourself.
"Ah, I figured you made those cookies... they are absolutely perfect, my liebe. I might have snuck a few when I got back," he smiled warmly, his prominent fangs poking out endearingly as he spoke. His gentle, playful tease made your cheeks flush with warmth and you instinctively shifted even closer to his comforting presence.
"Did you happen to see the special batch I made just for you?" you asked, looking up at him expectantly.
"Ja...I must confess…I ate them all," he replied with a hint of satisfaction in his voice, his lips brushing your forehead as he leaned down to kiss your skin.
"You didn't save a single one??" You looked up at him with a playful smirk, which he couldn't help but mirror on his own face.
"Nein... they were specifically made for me, weren't they? And I am absolutely not sharing," he declared with mock possessiveness. He loved your cookies, and whenever you bakes him anything, he tended to be pretty protective over the things you made.
"Greedy..." You murmured, making Kurt lean down again, his chest rumbling softly as his voice became heavy with drowsiness.
"Stets."
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Thanks for reading~
*BAMF*
Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest
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samkerrworshipper · 8 months ago
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how did it end? | arsenal x reader
warnings: suicidal themes, self harm, alcohol abuse, depression
um yeah lol feel grateful for this because i’m going to go ghost mode for the rest of the week! to the anons who have a problem with my writing, don’t fucking read this if it’s such a problem, in fact don’t read any of my stuff at all, my page is a better place without you.
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Everything about the day had felt wrong.
Everything about your last month had felt wrong, really the whole year if you thought about it.
It had all started after a blindside move from your home club. Leaving Rsenal had been the worst thing that had ever happened, but you’d known it was coming after they’d signed Russo. There was only so much room for strikers on the team, and your contract happened to be out as the summer started, leaving you as a free agent.
Somehow, you’d ended up at PSG, which you still didn’t understand. There had been offers everwhere, Lyon, Real Madrid, Man City, Chelsea, Bayern, Wolfsburg, yet your manager had fucked you and gone for PSG.
It had been a clusterfuck from the day you’d arrived, the language barrier, your horrible mental state, the different playing structure, the weather, your lonely apartment, the lack of friendships, the lack of support.
It had taken a month before you’d crashed and burned, withdrawing yourself from both club and national team. You’d been lower then low, sadder then sad, completely withdrawn from your own life. You wish you’d stayed, you wish that none of it had of happened, because maybe life wouldn’t have turned out the way it had, maybe you’d be happier.
Your Arsenal teammates had visited as often as the schedule permitted, helped you move your whole life from one country to the other, but at the end of the day you were still hundreds of miles away from them.
You’d stopped answering their calls after a few weeks, too consumed with the completely inebriating struggle that you were going through in Paris, trying to stay true to yourself whilst being so far in the deep end of the pool that you were struggling to keep your head above the water.
After the call to Sarina and the call to your manager it had made more sense for you to return to London, even if it had pained you to do so.
Not a month after you’d packed your whole life away against your will, you were packing it all back up.
You didn’t like what happened in Paris, you weren’t proud of it, all you wanted was to get back to your house in St. Albans, but you were also terrified of what your ‘home’ looked like now. It wasn’t the same place it had been for the last 8 years, you didn’t have your bestfriends as teammates more, you didn’t have any teammates, you were unofficially, self-decidedly, retired. Sarina had begged for you to return, tried to reckon with you, but you were done, your love for the game had died in Paris and you had no desire to re-open the wounds that had been torn into your skin in France.
You didn’t tell anyone, you just hoped that you’d be able to avoid everyone for as long as possible, that you’d just be able to slowly become nonexistent and become forgotten by everyone from the past 20 years of your life, but you were aware that life didn’t work that way.
You were sick of all the pain you were going through, all the suffering that you were being forced to endure for no good reason. You didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, you didn’t feel like you had anybody to talk to about it, it was just you nowadays.
That was how you spent most of your nights, alone.
Alone with a bottle of your posion of choice sitting on your bathroom floor.
It was the only thing that made it all better nowadays, the feeling of alcohol slipping down your throat, typically with a razor blade in your other hand.
There was something satisfying about it all, something perfect about being perfectly intoxicated with a sliver of metal between your finger tips.
On this particular day, you knew you’d drunk to much, but it had all been wrong. You’d woken up with a headache, in your shower, the tiles of your floor stained with your own blood. It wasn’t a uncommon place for you to wake up anymore, but everything about it felt wrong. Your head was aching in a way it never had, your whole body was hurting and for some reason it all just felt off.
You went about your normal routine, pushing the temperature of your shower to as hot as it would go, finding peace in the blistering water falling down across your skin. Once your skin was bright red you’d climb out, falling into your bed to help to sleep off the rift that the hangover had left inside of you. Around midday you would climb out of your bed, slipping out from the covers to enjoy your few hours of life that your days now gave you. Sometimes it would be spent in your kitchen, trying your hardest to piece together some kind of sustenance, other days making and eating food was too hard. On this particular day, you forgoed your kitchen, instead opting to walk straight past it and out onto your patio, as per the usual london weather, it was pouring down, but you didn’t mind too much.
The rain was nice, it reminded you that not everything in life was pretty, your life certainly wasn’t pretty anymore. Rain was a reminder that everyday could be turned upside down just based off of something that was completely out of anybodys control.
After deciding it was a bit too wet to enjoy the outdoors you tracked your way back indoors, your bare feet creasing and digging into the hard, cold wood floors of your home. You eyed off your uncomfortable couch, the one that your manager had found on facebook marketplace which was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture you thought could be bought. It kind of felt like a metaphor for you, you’d been bought, and it had been the worst decision PSG had made, and you were destined, just like the couch, to be thrown away without anybody really knowing or caring.
You walked straight past the couch and back to your bed, there wasn’t any living for you to do today, it just felt that way, so you pulled the covers back over your body and enjoyed the moment of peace that your bed gave you.
It didn’t last long, your body relaxing into the mattress for a few seconds before the restlessness took over. It was like that nowadays, your body never able to stop. You figured it was probably a result of your body going from pushing its limits everyday, mentally and physically to you doing absolutely nothing. Previously, when you’d been in a depressive episode you would sleep all day, no matter what had been happening, but not anymore. Now, you had to drink yourself into oblivion before your body would force itself to relax, you could be as exhausted and tired as you wanted but your body just wouldn’t let you sleep.
Your brain convinced you that your mattress was the lumpiest mattress made, when you really knew you’d hand picked it for it’s comfort. You brain tricked you into feeling like all of your curtains were wide open on a summers day when really they were drawn closed. Your mind was playing tricks on you and you didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.
That’s how you’d ended up on your bathroom floor so early, the overwhelming need for you to fix the pain becoming too much for you. With a bottle of vodka in one hand and your scared silver blade in the other you finally found yourself at peace.
The stomachache and burn of the vodka going down your throat didn’t truly matter, not when you were staring down at the thin criss cross of lines all over your thighs.
Some were healed, some were thick, some were thin, some were sore. They all told a different story. Thighs were the easiest, less arteries, good to hide, disguisable. They didn’t bleed the same way wrists did, they bled slow and painfully, a couple of lines never hurt you.
With the mix of last nights alcohol though and the new vodka mixed with the sight of blood you found yourself feeling woozy.
You hadn’t always been a cutter, self-harm hadn’t always been your vice. It had always been football. From the minute the ball was at your feet it had been football, and you wouldn’t of had it any other way. It had been your everything, football had been your life and until it had been taken from you, you hadn’t understood the true magnitude of what that meant. Your life had no purpose, no substance, nothing, without your game. Football had been the only thing you were good at, and you were extremely good at it. You’d given up on school in pursuit of your footballing career and it had been worth it, up until now.
Now your life was nothing but a big mess.
You wished it had worked out in Paris, you wished that you’d been able to farewell London and make a new home in France, but it hadn’t meant to be. All of your talent, all of your love, all of your passion, it was all for nothing now. Everything you’d ever done amounted to nothing, you were nothing without a pair of boots on your feet and a football in front of you.
You were never going to be the same again, it was all different now, and you were man enough to admit that you missed what you’d had. There were things that you lost in life, in the heartbreak and the struggles, you just hadn’t expected that you would lose the meaning of your life in the process. You had a hard time understanding why it had to happen to you, why you’d been the unlucky one. You paid your dues, you’d woken up at 5am every single morning to run drills, you’d worked your ass of and yet here you were, drunk on your bathroom floor wishing that you were gone.
Once upon a time you’d believed that a person would do anything for the thing that they loved most in the world, but you didn’t believe ion that anymore, love was supposed to be the most powerful thing on earth, and yet it had failed you.
It was funny because you could drink all of the alcohol you wanted but it never made you forget about what you’d lost. The hundreds of memories of football over the years, Arsenal, it had all been Arsenal. You’d been the kind of player where you’d always been one club, from academy all the way through to the senior team, you bled arsenal. Nobody even asked you what your dream team was, because it had always been Arsenal, you hadn’t had eyes for anywhere else. Yet you’d been thrown away like nothing.
You’d loved playing for Arsenal, when you put your jersey on at the beginning of every game you felt ten times stronger, qall of your bestest friends had been at Arsenal, your bridesmaids, your for life friends, and yet now it all felt like you were drifting away.
For the longest time you’d chosen the good options, the healthy options, what was right.
Now though, you chose destruction.
You sleep when your blackout drunk.
You drink caffeine late at night.
You stay awake until your eyes burn.
You always say yes to whatever vice your brain can think of.
You drink water instead of food and vodka instead of water,
You’re isolated beyond the point of it being okay, nowadays you spend more time with yourself then anybody else.
Maybe it was the vodka that made you feel particularly adventurous, or the scent of your own blood seeping across your skin, but whatever it was it somehow inclined you to reach for your phone which was rested on the tiles besides you.
You’d turned your notifications off long ago, as soon as the trade had come through.
You’d ignored everyone’s messages for the sake of preserving your own mental state, you couldn’t deal with the constant back and forth of trying to keep friendships which felt like had already gone.
You were more intoxicated than normal, or that was how you rationalized your behaviour, because there really wasn’t any other explanation to it, unless all of the emotions from the last few months had suddenly hit you a lot harder then normal.
But you were sick of being alone, you knew that, you’d been alone for far too long.
Maybe the alcohol had pushed that to the forefront to your mind, or you’d just become inherently desperate.
Your phone rang, the sound vibrating against the tile floor of the bathroom, amplifying it to your ears, the noise ringing out in your ear canal.
It didn’t take long for the ringing to cease, the sound of silence absorbing around you.
“y/n? Is that you?”
You blinked a few times, swallowing down the final remnants of your last swig of vodka.
“Hey.”
Your voice was shaky, from the days of not saying any words at all, you didn;t have any reason to speak if you were all by yourself.
“Hi.”
The silence stayed thick, obviously neither of you unsure about what to say.
“Are you okay, no ones heard anything from you in a few weeks.”
You’d vanished, for the good of yourself.
“I wish I’d stayed, le.”
Their was a deep breath exhaled from the other side of the line.
“I wish you’d stayed too, y/n.”
You couldn’t think of a single positive that had come from you leaving, not a single one.
“I wish I’d stayed now, I wish I’d been given the chance.”
You could fele the tears building up in the corners of your eyes.
“Me too, y/n.”
The tears were falling, the water falling from your cheeks falling onto the blood on your legs, the two liquids mixing together, the blood turning into red as they two mixed, blood did run thicker than water.
“I wish i’d stayed le, I wish none of this had happened.”
You didn’t want to know what the blonde on the other side of the phone was thinking about at this moment, you weren;t thinking about her, just yourself.
“Hold in there kid, for me, it’s all going to work itself out.”
There was no working it out, this was the end for you.
“I can’t do it anymore, I can’t pretend that i wish I hadn’t of stayed, that I don’t spend everyday regretting it, I want it all back.”
You pushed the blade down against your skin again.
Drawing the metal against your skin until the blood had begun to pool at the base of the two or three inch line.
“Where are you kid, are you in Paris? Do you need me to send someone to come and check on you? You shouldn’t be drinking like this by yourself, especially not in season.”
There wasn’t a season for you anymore, you were free, you could do whatever you pleased.
“I’m at home, and I’m fine.”
You pulled the blade up, and onto a new patch of skin, it was all littered with past scars, raised white lines.
“You don’t sound fine kid, I have plenty of friends in France, don’t make me get them to come and hunt you down.”
Her voice was an attempt at threatening, but it sounded more worried then anything.
“I’m not in Paris, I left after my contract was annulled.”
Annulled aka we’re letting you go without any pay but you still technically belong to us until the length of your contract is up.
“Annulled?”
You would have thought Sarina would have told the team, but apparently not.
“Haven’t you heard? I’m retired.”
Retired was not a word that you thought should fall from a twenty four year olds mouth, but here you were.
“Retired? Where are you, y/n?”
You supposed the alcohol might have been making your tongue a little bit looser.
“In my house, in my bathroom.”
Another deep exhale, you could just picture the woman pinching the bridge of her nose, maybe even frowning.
“Your house, where?”
You picked up the bottle of alcohol, taking a break from the razor blade to allow the vodka to ease back down your oesophagus.
“St Albans.”
The line went silent for a few seconds.
“You’re back home, since when?”
Another sip of your vodka.
“Couple of weeks, France wasn’t for me.”
France was the end of you.
“How much have you been drinking? You sound awful.”
You didn’t think you sounded that bad, but you also supposed a sober person would have a different perspective.
“Vodka, feels good le.”
Another deep exhale.
“I’m going to come over.”
Rustling on the other side of the phone.
“I’m fine, I’m good, you don’t need to come over.”
You were lying to both yourself and Leah.
“You aren’t fine, you aren’t good, and even if you want to tell yourself you are, I need to see you in real life because for the last months I’ve thought you were as good as dead. Are you safe, y/n?”
You didn’t know how to answer that question, you hadn’t felt safe with yourself in what felt like forever.
“I’m not unsafe.”
More rustling on the other side of the line.
“Do I need to bring somebody with me? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
You thought about it for a few seconds.
“I’m okay Le.”
The alcohol made you feel more okay then you had been, so you supposed it wasn;t fully a lie.
“You’re drunk at 6pm, I don’t think you are fine. I’m going to go get Viv, she knows how to deal with you when you’re spiralling, I’m going to stay on the phone with you and ask you some questions, okay, I’m walking out to my car now.”
You nodded your head, the realized that Leah wasn’t in front of you.
“Answer me honestly, are you safe right now, do you feel safe?”
You didn’t feel unsafe, you kewn by the looks of things, you were in a unsafe position. Alcohol and self harm wasn’t exactly the safest thing, but you felt at peace, and you knew that you weren’t causing any serious bodily harm to yourself.
“Depends on your perspective.”
You heard the sound of car doors.
“Okay, I’ll break it down, hmm? Are you within arms reach of something that could cause harm to you or others?”
Fuck.
“Yes.”
The sound of the phone connecting to bluetooth and keys in a ignition.
“What?”
You bit down on the inside of your cheek.
“Bottle of vodka and a blade.”
It wasn’t hard for you to admit, not when this had been how you’d spent all of your nights the last while.
“What kind of blade?”
You wished you’d stayed, you wished you weren’t in this position.
“Razor.”
You could feel the bile rising in your throat, whether it was alcohol related or from the cosntant questions.
“Alright, I want you to push them both as far away from you as possible, don’t look at them, don’t think about them, think about me. Now, have you caused yourself any harm?”
God, if you’d been able to stay none of this would be happening, none of it.
“Some cuts, le I think I’m going to be sick.”
The tears were full throttle, the sound of somebody’s voice that you’d missed so much in your ears and the vomit bottling itself up in your throat.
“Go to the toilet bowl, let it out.”
The taste of bile in your throat was never going to be something you enjoyed, the feeling of the new cuts along your thighs creasing as you crouched over the bowl stinging in a way that reawakened you.
The vomiting didn’t really stop, the continuous gagging being the only sound in your bathroom, beside the sound of Leah’s car.
Eventually, you finished, all of the clearish liquid mixed with your stomach acid sitting at the bottom of the bowl like a disgusting soup.
You laid down against your tiles, enjoying the cold that covered your skin.
Viv must have been picked up, because you could hear her and Beth talking in the background, beth, happy beth, beth who had once been your bestest friend.
“Bubba, you still with us, we’re just around the corner.”
You let out a groan in aggreance.
They continued to talk to you, allowing you to reply with different huffs and noises as they neared closer and closer to your home.
You ignored the hit of endorphins that you felt melt across you at the sound of your front door unlocking, Leah had kept your key, clearly.
It was a few seconds before your bathroom was crowded by the presence of your past teammates, the three sets of eyes all falling on you.
“Beth, go get a wet handwasher, Leah go get her some water.”
Viv’s voice was soft, but commanding, her body immediately gravitating to your own.
She crouched down beside you, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you upwards, bringing you eye to eye with her.
“It’s good to have you back.”
You burst into tears, you’d hated being in St Albans out of fear that you’d be rejected, that you’d be told to go back to France, and yet here you were being welcomed back with open arms.
“I wish I’d stayed vivi, I wish I’d stayed, I wish none of this had happened, I want it all back, I want my life back. I can’t do this life anymore.”
Viv brought you into her arms.
“I know liefje, I know, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to figure it out, but we need to get you safe first, and this isn’t it. You need to be in a better place.”
If Viv had a problem with the way thart you clinged to her clothes, literally holding on for dear life, then she didn’t brign it up.
“You could have called one of us earlier you know, when you were struggling in France. You could have called me, you know I’ve been where you are, I’ve moved and hated every single part of it, we could have helped you before it had gotten this bad.”
You shook your head.
“Nobody could have helped me vivi, nothing could have helped me, I was done, I’m done.”
Viv nodded into you.
“We’ve got to get you cleaned up, and then you’ll go back to Leah’s house, and then we’ll work on fixing this, okay, Kyra’s going to be so happy to know you’re back, she’s missed you, the bloody kid hasn’t shut up about you and she only knew you for a week. Kim’s been contacting everybody, trying to figure out where you were, her little protege, she’s been hardly functioning, we all have been, you can’t just disappear on us like that, you had us all worried sick.”
You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Really?”
Viv let go of you a bit, to get a proper look at you.
“Just because you’re forced to leave doesn’t make you any less Arsenal. You can take the girl out of arsenal but not arsenal out of the girl. No matter where you go, or what you do, you’re always going to be one of us.”
You could feel more tears beginning to form.
“I don’t know how it could have ended how it did vivi.”
You felt the Dutch take a deep breath.
“I don’t know either, but we’ve got you alright, we’ve got you now, we won’t let you leave, your staying with us forever, you took a year off of my life for everyday that you ghosted us.”
You looked down and around you, at the mostly empty vodka bottle, the blood, the scars, it all, and you didn’t know how it had all ended up like this.
“How did it all end vivi?”
Viv looked at you, just as lost as you felt.
“We’re going to figure it out.”
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just thought i’d end this with a little etiquette lesson for any anons xo
if you feel like dropping hate over this in my inbox… don’t.
if you feel like having a go at me for this fic… don’t.
if you feel like making personally rude arguments about me… don’t.
if you feel like having a go at for me for expressing my struggles with writing and sometimes making mistakes… don’t.
just don’t. go touch some grass, go for a run, buy a new fucking vibrator. i can guarantee you will get more pleasure from a good orgasm then dropping aimless hate in my inbox.
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shizuturnspages · 17 days ago
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Just yandere ayato and diluc with reader who has been through a lot. Like war, abuse, losing friends and death? You name it
And yet reader remain gentle and kind through it all.
I like this one because we all know diluc turns cold after his father's death, meanwhile ayato had to put up a face and gets crueler in order to keep the peace around his clan,
Yandere Ayato and Diluc with a Gentle S/O Who’s Been Through It All
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Yandere Ayato
The Facade Falls for You
❥ Ayato is a master manipulator, wearing a calm, collected mask to navigate the storm of Inazuma’s politics. Yet, with you, it crumbles. Your gentleness is disarming in a way that terrifies him; he feels like you’re the only person who truly sees him beyond his strategic facade.
❥ He becomes obsessively protective, not just of your safety but of your kindness. He sees the world as something cruel, unworthy of you, and he’s determined to shield you from anything that could tarnish your purity.
Fixated on Your Strength
❥ Ayato admires your resilience, though he’d never outright say it. To him, your ability to endure so much and still remain gentle is nothing short of miraculous—and it feeds his obsession.
❥ However, he also hates the world for what it’s done to you. While you forgive and move forward, he quietly seethes, plotting ways to punish anyone who’s hurt you. They won’t even know it’s him pulling the strings until it’s far too late.
Subtle Possessiveness
❥ Ayato’s control over you is subtle but firm. He makes it impossible for you to leave his side by weaving himself into every aspect of your life—offering you comfort, opportunities, and protection under the guise of kindness.
❥ “You’ve done so much on your own,” he murmurs, taking your hand. “Let me carry some of that burden for you. You deserve to rest.”
A Calculated Protector
❥ Ayato will eliminate threats to your happiness without a second thought. Whether it’s someone from your past or a current obstacle, he’ll handle it quietly and efficiently. You’ll never have to lift a finger—or even know.
❥ But if you insist on staying connected to anyone he deems harmful? His tone sharpens, his smile a little too tight. “You trust me, don’t you? Then let me decide what’s best for you.”
Scenario:
You were sitting in the gardens of the Kamisato Estate, the sun casting a soft glow over the flowers. Ayato watched you from a distance, his heart twisting. How could someone who’d faced so much still look at the world with such warmth?
He approached, offering you a cup of tea. “You seem lost in thought,” he said, his voice gentle.
You smiled, though the melancholy in your eyes was impossible to miss. “Just thinking about the past. It’s strange, isn’t it? How the world can be so cruel yet still so beautiful?”
Ayato’s jaw tightened. He hated hearing you speak of the pain you’d endured, even if you did so with such grace. “You shouldn’t have to carry those memories alone,” he said, his tone firm. “Let me share them with you.”
“You’ve done so much for me already,” you replied, your smile soft but hesitant.
“And I’ll continue to do so,” Ayato said, his hand brushing yours. “Because you deserve more than what this world has given you. And I’ll ensure you have it—even if it means bending the world itself.”
Yandere Diluc
A Mirror to His Own Pain
❥ Your ability to remain kind despite your suffering resonates deeply with Diluc, who turned cold and distant after his father’s death. He sees in you the person he wishes he could have been, and that admiration quickly turns into obsession.
❥ He clings to you like a lifeline, desperate to keep your warmth in his otherwise dark and lonely world.
Overbearing Protection
❥ Diluc’s protective streak is intense. He knows first-hand how cruel the world can be, and he refuses to let it harm you any further. Whether it’s sheltering you at Dawn Winery or accompanying you everywhere, he’s always there.
❥ “You’ve suffered enough,” he says, his voice low and serious. “Let me take care of you now.”
Anger at Your Past
❥ While you forgive those who’ve hurt you, Diluc cannot. His anger burns hot and relentless, and he channels it into ensuring no one from your past ever gets close to you again.
❥ If he finds out someone who hurt you is still alive? Well, the Darknight Hero has another mission.
Struggling with Your Independence
❥ Diluc struggles with the fact that you can stand on your own after everything you’ve been through. While he respects your strength, it also feeds his insecurities—he wants you to need him.
❥ This can lead to moments of conflict, where his overprotectiveness clashes with your desire to handle things yourself.
Scenario:
The crackling of the fireplace filled the quiet room at Dawn Winery. You sat curled up on the couch, staring into the flames. Diluc watched you from across the room, his expression unreadable.
“You’re too quiet,” he finally said, breaking the silence.
You glanced at him and smiled faintly. “Just thinking.”
“About what?” His voice was soft, but there was an edge to it—an undercurrent of worry.
“The past,” you admitted. “It’s strange. I’ve been through so much, but I’m still here. Sometimes I wonder why.”
Diluc crossed the room in a few strides, kneeling in front of you. He took your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re here because you’re strong,” he said, his crimson eyes locking onto yours. “Because you’ve endured more than anyone should have to. And I swear, as long as I’m alive, I won’t let you suffer anymore.”
You shook your head. “Diluc, you can’t protect me from everything.”
“Maybe not,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can try. And I will. Because I can’t lose you—not to this world, not to anything.”
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aixeko · 3 months ago
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──────<3 YOUR LORDSHIP ༺♱༻
WEEK 1 | SINNERS SAVAGERY / ERISETOBER
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| Synopsis |  When the tempestuous waves crash against the shore and the sky turns a foreboding grey, human shells cower in fear as the mighty lord of the seas, Leviathan, awakens from the darkest pit of the deep, seeking for a human companion to aid her lonely voyage. 
| Synopsis | Yelan as Leviathan x Mortal!Reader
| Setting | MONSTER AU / Historical Era
| Scenario | [ ONESHOT ]  EVENTUAL SMUT Porn with plot. Long introduction. Arranged marriage. Emotionally abusive parents. Kidnapping. Yelan saved Reader. Hemipenes [ Double cocks ] Monsterfuck, kinda, but Yelan is in her human form. Size kink. Tail kink… Is that a thing? Consent is hot. Soft-Dom!Yelan and Virgin-Sub!Reader. No gendered pronouns used only female anatomy. Went with the flow while writing so uh yeah. NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN.
► RADIO CHANNEL [ Author note ]
⚝ Used to hate Yelan a lot since I don't fw her haircut but after writing this she ain’t that bad tbh. Maybe mischaracterized, I stopped playing the archon quest and genshin in general since Sumeru release. ⚝ Including biblical references and quotes in an eventual smutshot is crazy work Ik.  ⚝ Not a native speaker, just a professional dyslexic yapper + VERY RUSHED WRITING ESPECIALLY AT THE END.
[ Word count: 5205 ] | Art credit: kgynh on Twitter
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Love's true essence eludes reality when forced upon by one's own guardian.
Can humanity's most sought-after reward retain its meaning amid the sea of obligations?
The shortest and simplest answer is a definite no to the victim and an utter negation to the assailant.
It seemed as though time had slipped away, as if it were only yesterday that you were a child, running barefoot along the shoreline, embracing the sea like your own kind.
Now you're freshly twenty, walking barefoot with jewelry decorating every inch of your figure and outfitted in an expensive ivory wedding dress funded by a husband whom you have never spoken to nor seen with your own eyes.
Once an innocent, carefree child turned into a young virgin delicacy for the rest of the world to corrupt, offered by your most trusted protectors, you could never again call your parents.
It's for the future of everyone here, my dearest eldest child; you are the only one capable of bestowing glory on our village, so shine, my dear, and bring forth a new era for this accursed world.
No more would your beloved, caring mother tell tales of fairy tales, replacing them with those orations each night you succumbed to uneasy slumbers, like a reminder of the miserable future that would descend upon you.
Straighten your posture, child, drop the sorrow and curve those lips, child, stop consuming so much cuisine, child; His Highness the prince wouldn't want an indolent pig as his lifelong partner.
No more would your kind father carry you through mountains and forests to show you the falsehood of paradise your child self formerly gleamed at; now he who had turned into an unfeeling man would deport you across the thunderous waves to your new life with your unknown lover.
Seated on the boat and obscured by your veil, you could only stare mindlessly at the bouquet in your hands, all the while the entirety of your community swarmed the harbor in a declaration of celebration for your safe expedition and soon-to-be prosperous life.
Children who were like you and knew nothing better than to trust their protectors admired you and wished for a future like yours, not knowing about the torture you had and would have to face. Adults who saw you grow only wish for you to one day return to this lowly village for a blessing from people who they view as higher life and, to some extent, as God-beloved children. At last, your guardians who know the cruel truth don't bat an eye at your suffering and only wish to rid themselves of you and ask forgiveness when you soon flourish in the castle life.
You realize now that all those times of 'joyous' occasions and 'love' were not anything more than a ploy, a gamble, a hefty investment that your supposed parents made the very day you were born into this world.
Do not forget about the hardship you have faced and the community that has helped you awaiting here for your anticipated return; rejoice in luxury, and proffer our kindness with your blessing, my sweet child!
Your mother's distant voice screams out in a mixture of woefulness and elation, a grand final act in her show to manipulate your already shell-shocked heart into forgiving and forgetting.
Can one's own soul mend in the face of a fierce storm?
When the world seems to continue living on while yours has stopped, a shadow of its former self, a living corpse in a world of angel-disguised devils.
Have there been no solutions to resolve this impending doom, or have the solutions always been impending doom?
A presumed hour has passed since you began your journey through the ocean; silence was all the sound you seemed to hear, with the occasional "hmph" or sigh from the man who gave life to you.
"Are you going to soak and stare mindlessly in misery for the remaining period of time? You are a smart child; I'm sure you understand that it will be long until the next sunrise before we're standing on land again."
A part of you wishes to answer, to once in your life unleash the raging sorrow he and the woman he married have anchored you to, but like always, you find your tongue tied to an invisible knot, unable to fight back due to the cowardly mannerism you've learned to adapt to.
"Resentment and anger are not traits desired by heaven, child; one day you will come to realize that the things we have done are for the sake of your own good. Had we not done so, you would be living with a poor man and left to be a rotten peasant, unable to blossom into your true potential."
Your grip on the bouquet tightens, such blaring words spoken to be only lies to ease the guilt; if his putative wisdom has a scent, it would be of the foulest smell one could inhale.
Sensing the tension in the atmosphere, for once the man chose not to escalate the situation further in fear of tragedy, especially being in the middle of practically nowhere in the vast sea.
People spoke of God as a heroic savior of the world, yet had never once in their lifetimes seen this magnificent being above humans and animals, mortal and immortal, life and death.
How can he, who is worshiped by the world as the one true salvation, allow his creations to suffer so greatly?
For the first time in a long time, you turn your gaze away from the flowers, not out of boredom, not out of impatience, but out of helplessness, out of your daydream for the life you longed for and lost in consequence of humankind's greed.
You lift your veil to reveal just enough to see with one hand while still withholding your grip on the flowers. Your first sight of the world is the ocean, a natural phenomenon you've adored for as long as you could walk; if you were asked to explain why you are so heavily interested in it, you would reply with a simple "Who wouldn't?" But if they were to ask you on a deeper level, you would respond that because you feel like nothing understands you more than it does, it's not a human, it's not a being, but because of such quality, it's why you're so fond of it.
The world is cruel, so very cruel, and so to have something as tranquil and peaceful as this enormous paradise is something to be adored with the utmost devotion.
Those of his believers who pour countless nights and days into seeking his divine revelation deserve more than silent destruction.
If God truly does exist, surely he'd answer his faithful servant's pleas for grace rather than having them suffer such a cold fate.
Before your so-called father could stop you, your hand meets the cool yet oddly soothing warmth of the water, a rare upward curve forming in the corner of your lip as a singular tear falls down and becomes one with Earth's own heaven.
If God does exist, if the legend and the myth are tales of truth, then please, please set your gaze on me; please save me from this miserable life, your lordship.
The winds begin to howl, and the sky darkens to a foreboding gray; far away from you, tempestuous waves crash violently against the coast. A single lightning strike ominously appears in the distance of the gray sky, sending chills down your spine at the signal of an impending storm.
The boat rocks violently, and you struggle to maintain stability, clutching tightly onto the edge of the boat while your father tries to manage the situation somehow, but it proves easily inefficient as a mere mortal is nothing against Mother Nature.
Your veil nearly flew off your head, and in a moment of panic, you let go of the flowers in your hand for the very first time in the interest of keeping the veil from flying away.
The boat rolls dangerously as the waves increase in abnormal strength; you struggle to hold on, and your father's screams are nearly drowned out by the cacophony of intense wind and waves if it weren't for the distinct pitch between nature and human fear.
With much grappling, you look upward to where your father's sight is set upon, and your face turns pale, hearts pounding in absolute fear from the sight of a creature only described in fairy tales and biblical books as the supreme sovereign of the seas. Unlike consuming content from secondary sources of its fearsome status, its appearance is much more petrifying in real life; from its awakening, ripples of dread are sent through the entire atmosphere, as if the very ocean itself is a body of its powerful might.
The sea serpent colossus's size covers the sky in its mass alone, and all you can do is watch in powerlessness, but as the initial fear disappears, you can't help but feel a surge of admiration for the majestic creature that has risen from the depths to grace you with its presence.
In essence, Leviathan is not just a creature of myth but can be portrayed as a powerful embodiment of the ocean’s mysteries, evoking awe and fear in equal measure; yet at this moment, Leviathan is not a myth or an embodiment anymore.
You slowly stand up, wanting to reach out for the monster in spite of your puny existence compared to it; perhaps this feeling is a manifestation of your love for the ocean. Maybe you were wrong this whole time, that this entire time the boundless mysterious abyss was, in fact, a being of greater worth than a mere mortal can comprehend. Could it be that the reason why you felt so heavily connected to the ocean was due to the fact that such a creature lay dormant in it? Could it be the case that this whole time someone has been accompanying you in your most vulnerable and lonely moments?
You stand up on your bare feet, both hands outstretched high above like a priest offering their devotion to God; you gaze up toward Leviathan, and your heart nearly bursts as you see you have gained its full attention.
"Your lordship." You whisper so silently that even your confused, fear-struck father, who is sitting beside you, cannot hear, but those words are not meant for mortal ears after all.
The last thing you feel is a coldness so soothing it could be a camouflage for fire as it engulfs you before darkness consumes you into a comforting slumber, one you've been deprived of since as early as your formative years.
It is when one has been confined for so long in the presumably eternal abyss that the light seems to shine so luminously.
Your eyes flutter open, rising to consciousness; a deep breath escapes your lips as you try to recall what has occurred, only for you to be sidetracked by where you are.
In contrast to the rough feeling of the wooden boat, you now lie comfortably in an astonishingly expensive, spacious bed made for what can only be assumed to be a titan or of the utmost royalty.
You look down at yourself and realize you're not fitted in a white ivory dress anymore but rather in extravagant, exquisite, and elaborate bridal attire belonging to a culture you're not all too familiar with.
Spotting a large mirror not too far away, you rise to your feet and examine yourself, and to your complete and utter shock, the dress was of a quality you could only have dreamed of; in comparison to the dress, the room that you thought was too lavish is lowly.
The attire is of a stunning ultramarine and silver color, with intricate embroidered patterns of what looks to resemble a sea serpent and floral motifs covering the entire garment. It's voluminous, creating a flowy silhouette and a sense of grandeur, and to add to its flowiness is your veil, which is elevated by a silver headpiece as detailed as the entire apparel.
In the corner of your eye, you spot fully bloomed lotuses with their countless petals decorating the dark blue marble floor.
Must it be that the one who brought me here intends to put on a show and allow me to follow those flowers to their awaiting destination? You thought, quite skeptical of this mysterious stranger's intentions, but seeing the pleasantries you have been showered with, you opted not to draw the wrong judgment quite yet.
You pull down your veil, which, unlike its appearance, is quite translucent on the inside—a heavily desired distinction from your previous opaque one.
At a slow pace, you follow the lotus, leaving the room for an even more unfamiliar environment; outside the bedroom is a long hallway decorated with various ornamentations that are illuminated by bioluminescent organisms you've only heard tales about.
Continuing to follow the lotuses, you admire the serene atmosphere, despite knowing nothing about anything and everything; the place seems to give a familiar feeling you've only felt toward the vast expanse of water.
You turn down countless corridors and admire different décor before you come to a stop at a grand, sturdy arch entrance; carved in it is what looks to be the depiction of Leviathan, the almighty sea serpent you have come to witness and live to tell the tale of. As well as what looks to be a mortal woman behind it, albeit a very unlikely assumption with her obscure body featuring characteristics impossible to be found on a human.
A slow inhalation and exhalation release through your nose and out of your mouth before your hands push the door open.
"Does the scenery satiate your taste, or is there any adjustment you desire to make?" A deep, rich, feminine voice booms.
You're a bit taken aback by the sound of another living being, and especially a female one at that. If it weren't for her voice, you would have mistaken the woman for a male at first sight given her chosen outfit. Similar to you, she is seemingly clothed in bridal attire with half of her chest uncovered by fabric or hair. Long, flowing garments in place of pants share colors and detailing exactly like yours with minor adjustments; a silky robe is wrapped around her like a sash, and the rest of her features are concealed by the canopy veil hanging from the roof of the castle.
She's seated on top of a throne as grand as the room is, and by the windows that are engraved in the wall, you realize that you have been underwater this whole time. Which explains the unusual source of lighting and unique embellishment never seen in this era.
A gulp ran down your dry throat, and your immediate thought was to go on your knees and bow, but you were stopped by her commanding voice.
"You are not to behave by the rules your kind has set, because here you are of the highest life that the mortal soul can achieve. Come closer; I'm sure you are curious to see what I appear as, little one."
It takes a while for any sort of response or action to manifest, but soon enough, one did.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness, this may be an intrusive question, but may I know what you are addressed by? In particular, your title or name, perhaps if you are to grant me both."
The mysterious being seems to be quite surprised but amused; you see the shadow of her head resting on her fisted hand as she answers your question with much delight.
"You are much more intriguing than meets the eye; it is no illusion that you are a unique character indeed; you should take pride in the fact of such a deed so highly as to be offered as a bride to a prince, given your status as a lower life." A chuckle was released, followed by a dreamy sigh. "Of course, I am no different; never have I risen to the mortal realm and met such a gem; you must be of this planet's favorite creation to be so blessed."
At the mention of 'favorite' and 'blessed,' you are quick to protest, an act you yourself are surprised by, taking into account your history.
"You are mistaken, your liege; I am by no means favored, and least of all blessed."
"Hm, I see," she paused. "To answer your question, you must already know me by my true form. The one whom you called 'your lordship,' the formidable sea serpent, as you mortals describe me, and by my given name, Leviathan."
At the revelation, you are much amazed; Levithan had been a name you often associated with a male creature, given its appearance, but you do recall that in one particular book, you can't place your finger on the name of, which has described Levithan as a female monster that dwells in the deepest part of the watery abyss.
"Awed, I see? You're quite an amusing little one, but I do request that you do not refer to me by that name, as it does not fit my taste. I particularly like the name Yelan, and I do hope you agree with it."
Without thinking, you begin making your way to the Lord, eager to see the one who has saved you from a miserable life, the one to rid you of a horrible life with a man who could dispose of you anytime he sought.
"I am merely an underling in a position compared to your lordship."
You were only a fair step away from seeing the godly being yourself before being swept off your feet by a massive, rugged tail. You yelped, eyes closing in fright, only to feel yourself pressed up against foreign, frosty flesh that was quite comforting in spite of its temperature.
"Repeated words are a time waster, and I'm sure I do not need to remind you again that you are not to behave by the rules your mortal friends or foes have established in that pretty little head of yours."
"I... I'm sorry, Your Highness; please do not punish me," you whimpered aloud, frightful even with the hospitality and kindness accentuating Yelan's words.
"Punish you? I am a feared monster indeed, but I am not without a soul; harming you would be a war set against grace itself."
Her rough hand carefully and tenderly touches your chin like the softest of materials, tilting it up patiently to face her.
"Open your eyes, my heaven."
Your heart fluttered at the nickname, and without any second consideration, you did as you were commanded. A single beat skipped within the close proximity of Her Highness; from a distance, she may have seemed the average human size, but being this close to her, on her lap specifically, you're awed by her enormous stature.
"Your Majesty...I-you're... huge."
Her pale skin is adorned with scales that are inherent to her true form, light jade-hued eyes bore into you like a gourmet to be savored rather than devoured, and dark blue hair with asymmetrical bangs that are lighter at the tips seems to tie it all together to make a manifestation of the perfect combination between a mythical creature and a mortal female.
Another chuckle, this time a little longer, emits from her, and you swear your pupil seems to take on the appearance of a heart at the paradisiacal sight blossoming before you.
"Oh, how I adore mortal words; it has been a long time since I have had the company of another."
Her tail slithers its way to your waist and pulls you in closer—an act in anticipation of unforeseen events, but one that you suspect will happen sooner than expected.
"But my lord... how can I, a mere human, be able to accompany you?"
"Are you suggesting I am not capable of taking care of you? If there are things you require, then a single word to me and your wish shall be granted. If you believe it's impossible, then I will rival against the heavens for it to become a reality."
"No, no, my lord, you are much more than one can imagine, but I fear I am not capable of surviving in such an environment, as I have observed; we are underwater, and I do not have the ability to breathe under such conditions, nor do I have any power."
When His Lordship arrived, it was one where many prayed countless times for it and never got to witness it in their lifetimes.
To be able to be in possession of such dutiful hands is to be seen beyond the flesh and into the deepest part of one's soul.
That day I learned that God truly does exist on this wasted planet and that God is not a man of the beyond but a woman with a nurturing soul.
"I see, you should have mentioned it earlier," her gaze evidently grew dim. "I have a method of transferring my power to you, gaining you access to my pool of destruction, albeit the technique is rather an intimate act, and by performing this, you would be marked as wholly mine, and your soul will be bound to me for as long as you have the will to exist."
Much to your shame, an immediate "yes" escaped from your lips, which left Yelan a bit taken aback by the response; nevertheless, it's one that doesn't go unappreciated by her.
"My sweet mortal, as much as I am flattered by your agreement, I suggest reconsidering all the restrictions you may have to face, and most importantly, that you are not to return to your realm without my supervision for fear that your breed may label you as part of witchcraft or satanic magic."
You shake your head; you may long for your past life when the moon is at its fullest, where the most breathtaking night sky reveals itself as the world rests, but you would never dare return to the misery forced upon you ever again.
"Your lordship, I am sold off to a man whom I have never longed for, like I have longed for a companion each moment my body embraces the sea; never have I heard his voice the same way the waves whisper a delightful siren song to my ears, nor have I grown to love every perfect imperfection of the stranger as I have to your land."
Yelan's ears turn a deep blue hue at the helix—a phenomenon you haven't a clue about the means of its cause, but you take her cheeky grin as a blissful reaction.
"And you are certain of your choice; there is no return from then on."
"I have not thought of anything but a future with you, my lord."
Yelan's features lit up with much ecstasy, and her smile exceedingly widened as she cupped your entire head with one palm, bringing you ever closer with each ring of an echoing bell.
"Then may you allow me to have a kiss?"
"Yes, my sovereign."
Thus, the tragic tale of a young mortal sold to a foreign land ends as a tale of a beauty blessed by the heavens, and a monster feared by the lords begins.
Yelan hovers above you, naked from the top half of her body, her face flustered with uneven breath reflecting yours. What was a passionate exchange of blissful lips meeting quickly stirred up the deprived sea serpent, and now you're a complete mess spread out on top of another bountiful bed for her eyes to feast on.
You're breathless, as the woman who treated you with much care is barely able to restrain herself from almost attaching her lips to yours. Your head throbs from the intensity, but you can't help admitting that this is all so new and exciting; after all, you haven't given up your virginity yet or even touched yourself.
Like a mind reader, Yelan asked, "You haven't done this before, have you? How pure; I'm almost intimidated to corrupt such innocence. If it is all too much, yell out 'lotus'; I do not want your first time to be unsatisfactory."
"Hgh... Understood, my lord."
"Yelan. I am no more or less now that I am to mate with you; we are of equal ranking. If you must, you can still refer to me as please, but I will admit the truth that I do want to hear my name out of your delectable enunciation."
"Okay—Yelan."
Yelan's instinct to the callout of her name is to kiss you again, never satiated by how addictive mortal flesh can be. You gasp into the drastically different monument of the kiss, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as she plunges you further into the generous bedding.
You tried returning her touch with eager vigor but found your hands accidentally pressed against the middle of your crotch due to your unfamiliarity with a half-beast, half-mortal form. You're flustered as an involuntary moan leaves you at the feeling of her monstrous size while Yelan is quick to use the opportunity to slither her long tongue inside, which has your body inducing visual stimuli.
You choke even more when you feel her grab your attire and rip it apart with her claws; you whine at the act, quite saddened as you have grown quite attached to the outfit, and as a result, Yelan mumbled a quiet "sorry" in between hungry kisses.
"Yelan... needs—more, ah, fast—faster!"
You come to regret your words a tad bit when you feel her lengthy tail slither its bulk around your thigh and an inch away from your womanhood.
"Comfortable or-"
"Please."
She doesn't question your neediness, nor does she require any more words for her to thrust some of the length inside, careful not to harm you as she deems you not suitable for many insertions yet.
You cry out her name at the intrusion, gripping her back and scarring it at that, but it doesn't matter as she moves from your lips to mark your body while getting rid of the distraction covering your frame.
Time is an unchangeable aspect of the universe, but in this moment of elation, it seems to go on for an eternity while flashing faster than one can comprehend the flicker of lightning. You're a whimpering mess as Yelan plants her imprint onto you. How long has it been, how long have you been doing it, and how long are you able to go on—these are all questions you don't know the answers to, and one that is least of your concerns at the feelings of how staggering her erotic touches are.
Satisfied enough to finish her final touches on your neck and collarbone, she moves to your chest, pressing airy kisses to each nipple before setting her lukewarm mouth to suck on one while rubbing the other.
"Mmm... mn, ah.. your highness, Yelan. So-so..g..” Your words run dry at the overstimulated sensations running their course.
“No need to say anything; just focus your pretty little mind on making those delectable sounds, and let me take care of the rest.”
"Shhh, no need to say anything; focus your pretty little mind on feeling my devotion to you and making those delectable sounds. Let me take care of you."
Out of the blue, Yelan pulled her tail out of you, causing you to let out a whiny whimper at the loss of contact, but not long after it would be replaced by a hitched breath.
You have never seen a penis before, only heard of its description and what its function to society is, but nobody has ever told you that they're almost as large as the size of your head, and two of them at that.
"Haha, don't look so excited now; it's truly a tempting invitation to my constrained self-control. My tail already has difficulty trying to enter you; to think you can fit these two little beasts of mine is beyond impossible."
You pull your lips into a dainty pout with a tilt of your head. 
“Is there no other way to pleasure one another, my liege?”
“You're so curious and such an obedient little one too; I truly struck gold when I found you.” Yelan kissed your cheek and slowly intertwined your hand, guiding it to wrap around the base of her shaft.
"For other means of pleasure, I can, of course, change the size of them, but it wouldn't be entertaining, now would it?" She teased, causing your clitoris to ache for her again. "I'm merely playing the fool, as I have stated; harming you is like a war against heaven. I'm sure this would be amusing to you; just move your hand up and down like this." Yelan demonstrated the movement on her large genitalia, and you perked up as you saw her ears turn a darker color, an indication you picked up as a sign of fluster.
"I'm curious, Your Highness; does a mortal man have two reproductive parts as well?"
You use both hands to give both of her members equal attention, and you are rewarded for this by a raspy moan as well as an even greater hardening of the twin beast.
"In rare cases, perhaps, but I am no mortal, and especially not a man."
Yelan, grab your hands and pin them above your head, leaving you helpless and useless with only your sight available to witness her shrinking her tools down to a size compatible with your body.
"And no mortal is capable of giving you the satisfaction you are entitled to, nor can any arise and satiate this overwhelming lust like you are in a position to."
She inserts both beasts in each of your holes, causing you to cry out her name in slight pain with overarching ecstasy. Her tails wrap around you, and she ushers her lips down to your neck, kissing and thrusting simultaneously to bring you to your well-deserved orgasm.
You feel a soothing coldness enveloping you like the ocean's hug, your back arching off the ground as your head throws back, seeing the deepest part of the beautiful watery abyss.
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
"The Lord is who I shall cherish evermore as my beloved soulmate." You said it out loud, opting not to write it in the last line of your autobiography.
"Exquisitely written and articulated, my dearest bride."
Yelan kissed your cheek when you turned to her after you finally stopped writing, having silently watched you and touched the floral mark of her symbol tattooed on your womb, now turning your attention solely to her.
"Your ways with words never change, do they, your lordship?"
"It has become second nature to me, hailing from the deepest part of my once indestructible soul, whose only weakness is one single mortal."
In her was life, and that life was the light of all humankind.
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afurtivecake · 28 days ago
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thinking about jean and his concept of 'forever partners' and where he got the idea from because he didn't get it from the ravens.
from the sounds of it, ravens were discouraged from getting too chummy. in fact, incoming raven freshmen are set up with an older raven partner, who would presumably be replaced with a new freshman once they graduate. in other words, raven partners are not meant to be forever.
that means only ravens with a "forever partner" were kevin and riko.
at best, the whole concept of "forever partners" is a naïve, comforting dream for lonely kids with nothing but this sport they play and each other. at worst, it's a dysfunctional and abusive relationship.
and kevin and riko are the ones selling jean on this idea of partnership, either explicitly or by example. someone to suffer with. someone to lick your wounds with. someone to push you to be better. mutually assured success or mutually assured destruction. and jean, despite knowing the good and the bad of kevin and riko's partnership, is lonely and desperate enough for someone to suffer alongside to buy into it.
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