#Why not? I enjoy lust in its many forms

[magicsugarbaby]

C̵̠̟̦̄͒̉̊͠ỏ̵̦̮̠̹̤̑̈́̄͐m̵̬̲̚m̴̧̤̹̂̏͑̚͜ṹ̴̖̓̆n̷̩̄̃͝ę̴̹̯̘͘

It had been a while, and a completely different Inn, but the Commander's Arms still let him have a room all to himself, in addition to the big room he shared with his friends. Jason actually asked for one without windows, and got all the cheaper for the lack of them.

He was pretty sure it was intended as a store room in the original construction, but he didn't care. All he had to do was jam some fabric under the door and blow out the candles, and he was half way to summoning his patron. The other half was the blackly glowing orb sat on the bed from which he'd yanked the sheets to black out the doorjam. And of course, he had to be naked, not that anyone could see his nude form in the dark, save for the barest outline. He spent a few minutes in supplication to the orb, forehead touching the floor as he waited, until suddenly he realized he'd been hearing soft rustlings, slithers, something slimy sliding over something else just as slimy, for minutes now.

"I had a question," he said eventually, when nothing immediately seized him or spoke. "What do you want?"

W̶̛͎̞̬̘̦͈̦͉͌̾̇̎͒̐̃̇̀̀̌̽̅̕͝ͅa̶̡͇̪̔̏͒͛͒̄̅̋̓̋́͝n̴̥̞̏̇̀͋̏̇̓̋̒̾͋͒͘t̵̨̨̢̻̱̤̠͈̅͊̇̿̎̽̂͛̇̚͝?̴̡̥̜̮̞̖͖͍͚̠̃̅̀̀̈́͂͒̏͒͊͘͠ͅ

"What is the purpose of our contract?" Jason clarified, lifting his head to watch as tentacles writhed, filling the room, coming from everywhere and nowhere.

H̶̨͖̬͍̭̠̤̩̲̼̱̺̀̽̓̕̚͘͘͜á̸̯̭͖͓̀̒̓̔̏̏̇͠͝͝ṿ̴̨͉̹͚͓̰̰̺̟̥̪̱͗̐̍̾̄̂͌͠͠è̷̮̠̗̣̩͉̆͐͒̈́̇͘ ̵͔͔͚̩̯̣͕̲̣̞̼̳͗͛̍́̀͂̅͌͗̑̀̚͜y̴͉̳͎̯̥͇̰͎͆̌̂̓ơ̸̡͚̤̗͙̥̟͆̑̃̉͛̒ͅͅṵ̶̡͙͓̺̪̠̞̹̊͋̆̈́͆͐̾̇̋͑̈́̒͝͠͠ ̷̨̧̩̞͕̪̞̭̠̝͔͎͗̉̇̍̉̏̽̃̍́̓̽̉͑̂͜͝͝f̷̧̫̟͕̣̞̤̙̲̗̟̪̌͋̈́͋̈́̀͐̽̀́͘͘͘͜ͅo̶̧̻̬͕͎̪͙͑́̓̇͒̃͒̏͑̌̉̾̽̕r̶̡͎̘͎̩̱͉̍̅̌͆̒̈́̏̅̚ğ̶̘̙̩̖̦̥̈́͋̋͆̇̓̓̓̀̕o̷̡̨͇̼̰̠̲̎̎̑͒̈́̋͘ͅț̴̨̨̡̯̬̜̽̌͐̿̕t̵̡̛̞̰̺͙̝̣̫̠̟̙̳̎͑̉̊͑͑̈́e̴̽̈́̌͒̈́��̦̫̤̲͖̟̞ͅn̴̢̮̥̼͉͎͉͍̭̗̞̟̘͎͈̺̆͗͑̾̈́̐̓̈̑̇͋̾̀̆̿͝ͅ ̸̨̧̧̯͚͔͓̜̞̤̣̔̔͐͠w̷̨̬̞̩̹̞̦̣͈̯͙̘̘͌́͂͂̐͠ĥ̷̙͙̗̠̬̣̯̲̐̾͒̃̈́͐̇͝a̵̯̋̎́͑͗͝t̷̫̲͖̩̜̳͆͋̓̾̓̏́͋͌͑͋͆͠͝ ̸̨̫̻̝̜͉͐́͑y̸̢̤̺̯͉̣̝͒̈́̈́̓̃̎̐͂̓̆̍̾̂̀̂͘̚o̴͙̭̦̘͕̩͋̌̔̑͂͌́̿̏̓͗͊̚͘̚̚ú̶̩̳̠̖̤̦͈͉̼̈́͊ ̵̡͚̍̈͌͌͝y̸̟͔͈̟̞̪̳̳̥̘͗o̶͈̯̘͔̠̤͇̣̝̪̒͌̐͐̀̅͜͝͠u̴̢̥͓̖̥͂̆̄r̷͓̓̆̆͂̐̐̍̓̽̀̿͆̓̈͝ś̶̨͉̺̺̟̺̭̦͖̥̜̣͎̿̈̾̓̎́͒͒̓̑͒̍ę̶̘̟͇͍͐̀l̴͔̜̘͍̖̪̱̥͐̓͋͒̓̂̅̄̑͗͛̚͝f̸̧̪̱̗̗̫̙̩̖͖̝̝̥̤̽̍̏̓́̔̾̈́̽̈́̌͘̕̕͝͝ͅ ̵̤̝̯͉̣̤̲̣̦̰͕͍̱̲̐͑̉͂͌̏̂͆̒̈͠͠ͅw̸̹̜͚̱̞͚̭͙̺͔̲̝͇͊͛̍̌r̵̛̹̩͖̠̞̗͔̗̟̓̒͐̽͑́̔͒̾̊͘͝o̸̡̩̮̣̜͛̐͆̏̋́t̴͈͇̱̦̱͒̋͑̃̒̐̚͜͜ë̷̡̢̡̠̪̞̩̩̜̭͎̺͚́̌̍̈́̓̔͂͆́̋̿̍̆̏͒͘͝ͅ?̷͎̮͔͕͚͌̂̊̑̓̑̾͘

"We both know that I wrote that to be funny," Jason said, pouting a little. "What do you actually want? I don't believe you just want to watch me fuck a bunch of inhuman people while occasionally sampling the goods."

W̷̡̡̧̙̪̟͉̯̖̮̔͆̑̃̿͑͑́͘ͅh̶̞͚̱͉̜̀͒̌̈́̍̔͋̏͠͝͝ỵ̶͓͙͌̏̓̐̓̿̈́̆̑̈́͐͑̽̍̃́͠ ̵̢̨̧̠͈̝͖̪̻̭̞̤̘̺͕͉͂͑n̴̬͎͋͛̃̏̃͆́̓̃͋̕͠͝o̶̢̲̥̦͔̝̙̪̺̩̼̬͎̟̰̖͕̔͂̐̀͒̍͛̾̄̀͘ț̶̞̫̮̔̈́́̈́̅̔͘?̶͈̭̖͍̖̹̃̀̓̈̽͒̇̑̍̎͘ ̷̦̮̥̬͈̤̃̅͛̈͛̂̒̀̾́I̶̡̤̖͍̎ͅ ̵̬̯̊͑͛̃̏̈́͒̈́̍͂̀͝ę̵͎͒̓̽̍̋̋̋͆̽̽̕͠͝͝n̷̩͚̜̫̯̻̓͑͊͋̈̉̑͒̔̚͘͜j̶̡̨̛̯͇̞̝̠͈͗̓̒̍̈́̒̊̑̆͑̓͒̉͊̓͠ͅo̷̼̠̝͛͗ͅŷ̵̢̱̝̝̭̫̱̝͖̞̪͌́͌͒̐̓͒͘͜͝ ̸̟̜̮̬̩́̅̋̄̅̋̊̽̄̽͝ͅͅļ̵̘̱̫͉͙̪̜͓̰͎̝̣͕̊̅͊͊̌u̶̗͍̬̜̼̥͎̎̌̔͐̿͆̆̃̎̀͌̚s̵̨̛̠̠̃̿̽̀͊̈́̎͂̈̀̀͠t̷̢̜̳͚͙͖͎̱̃̔͂͝ ̶̧̞͓̮̞̼͉̜͊̍̆͐̓͋͂̋͜͝ḯ̴̗̩̪̼n̵̢͚̟̪̣̟̗̜̲͎̰̖̎͑ ̴̺͍̦̩͍͓̯̓̌͆̏͛̐͊́͗̒̽̓͒̉ĩ̵̛̛͉̲̬͑̇̓̓͑̽̑̋̍̈́̏̾͠ṭ̶̡̝̬̬̣͉̲̱̈̂̐͂̒̏̂̆̔͜͝͝ş̶̛̻̗̖͎̫̺̪̋̒́́̿̅͊ ̴̨̭̖̳̫̤̦̗̙͎̦̾͌̃̎̿̄͋̾̀̾̀̎̍̕͠��̲͍m̴̬͔͓͍̩͍͈̣̬͊a̸̡̜͍̦̞̺̝̞̖͎̼̮̯̎͑͊͑͗͛͐ͅn̵̡̛̥̲̜̞̝̥̠̱͇̈́̍̐̽̐̄͂͌̌͛́̂̚̕͘͜ÿ̵̢̝̺̘̥̬̘̬̗̞͙̤͓̣̈̌̏̋̒̄͂̍̉̚ ̴͓̺̭͕̟̼̳̗͚̲̥̖̦̜͖̊̊͝f̷̛̜͚̍͑͑̅̈́̆̈́͂̈̀͘̕o̶̰͇̼̦̗͕̼̬̺͍̝̪̱̐͗͒̆̽̈́̒̀́̐͝ŗ̵̧͉̫͐̔̈̄m̷̢̧̛̙͉̳͎̥̗͕̙͍͚̰̭̱͕͐̈͆̿̊̉̈́̚͝͠ͅs̵̼̤̠̭̙͉̯̞̼̥̙̭̪͕͇͈̿̀͂̐͗̅̓͛̓̓͘͝͝.̶̨̗͉͖̖͓̦̹̫̭͔̺̔̇͒̇̓̎̑̐̚͜

"I think you have better things to do, and better people to do it through."

Ḑ̴͓͈̄̃̒͌̽͊̾̂̈́́̈́͘͘͘͘͝o̸̥̯̻̪̙͓͈̘̿̒̋ ̶̛͍̗̜̬̖̜͓͔̖̎̆͌̈̈̈́̈́͑̈́̅̈͊̒͐̊y̷̧̨̛̪͔͔͕͈͇̪̲͈͙̜o̶̡̤̰͚̼̻͓̣͉̖͙͍̼̺͔̘͗͊̓̔̂̄͛͑͐̒̀͛̂͠͝ų̵̫̜͍̭̲̯͇̗̔̇̋̐̽̇̍͒͗ ̴̨̡̭̝̱̞̭̫͙̺̪̱͆̊͒̈̕͝͝͝ş̴̫̥̯̯͙͖̼͒͗a̴̤̝̪͉͚͕͓̹͕̻̭͍̯̰̪̞̓͐͠ͅy̸̧̧͚͖̮͇̖͍̯̗̆͛͌̈́͝ ̶̢̨̱͉͖̯̲̮͕̭̙͈͌͑̑̅̃̈́͆̅̚͘͜Ȉ̷̟͈̫̦̪̘̇̀͂̅̈́̊͜͝ ̵̧͔̙͖͍͔̔́͐̅͂̈̄̋̓̾̈́͘͜l̷̼͈̖͙̭̇̀̈́͛̍̔̉͛͒̃̉͑͘̚̕i̸̞̥̟͔̟̘̰͔͎̾̐̚͜͠ͅͅe̵̢̛̦̪̝͚͓͔̲̰̳̬͌͊̑̊̈́̉̈̉̕͜͝?̶̨̭̤̞̥́̂̒͒̽̋͂͘̚͜͠͝

It was hard to say that this entity had any kind of tone, considering he wasn't entirely sure it was using a mouth to speak, but Jason got the feeling that he was treading on a boundary of goodwill.

"I would never say that," he back peddled. "But I would say you omit..."

Y̶̜̦̙̭͓̪͉̽̋ó̶̺̮̤̭̞̺̘̏̈̾̒ụ̷͕͖͓̈ ̶̧͚̗̻̺̱̻͚͔̬͓͒͐̿̏̿a̶̢̛̬͚̼͈͓̻͎̘̋̀̓͊̒̌̉r̷̡̨̥͈͍̻͕͕̭̘̦̳͗͐̔ͅĕ̶͍̺͉̻͇̪̙̦͕͎̦͓͙̗̭̝͓̊̈͐̈͋͒̇́̉͝ ̴̨̦̲͔̟̙̻̬̻̥͑ä̶̡̡̖̗̭̼͇̘͕́̃̄̃̈́͗̓̉͆̈̿̈́̉͂̉͑̕ ̶͔̎̈́͗ĉ̴̎̒̍̔̍̀̒͑ͅa̸̙̦̲̿͒̈́͊̅̅̒̃̑̋̚͝ņ̶̛͓̱͖̲̼̠̥͚̯̞̟̰͔̬̮̉͌̉́͌͋̔͆̑̿̄̆̆̐̋̓ņ̵̡̙͎̱̮̫͓͚̪̗̕ͅy̷̥̑͊̈́̋̐͊̉̇͠͝ͅ ̷͉̲͍̭̠͊̋̈̋͌̑́̉́̀̕m̷͚̲̪̺̯̖̓̆̔̀̆̎̈́̀̄̒͗̀̕͘̚͘͘͜ͅǫ̸̝͈̮̱̜͇̼̳̪̱̟̏̍̿̒̈́͗̈́͗̈́́̍͐͝͝ṟ̵̡̨̤̠̬̟͖̙͕̺̏̋́̈́̎̽͊͗͋͛͂ţ̵̧͙̳͙̘͕̣̳̘͇̻͎̮̙̓a��̛͉̀̋͗̽̽͑̓͋̉͋͋̏̊̽̈́̒l̶̢̰̳̹̻̮̮̪̗̤͚̓͐͆͂͐͌͋̐̎̆̇͊̓͘͝,̸̩̳̰̳͓̭͍̮͑͜͜ ̸͔̤̝͈̗̬̮̓̏́̔͑̃͒̐̎̋͘͘͝f̵̡̢̝͇̜͓̜̞̊̄̍̂̑̄́̉̕͝ơ̷̡̡̮̻̹̝̟̄͋̌̽́̌͆̽̽ř̷̨͚͍̦̭̾̀̋̿̅̅͠ ̴̼̖̱͌̿̀ą̸̡̦̤̲̗̖̳̗͈̺̊͋̅̉͛͂̋̓̅̑̀̾̚͝l̶̦̝͚̬̙̀͒͐́͒̂̏͑͋̏̚l̵͎̺̤̳̮͓̥̣̗̪̥̦̱̩͎͛́͜ ̸̧̧̨̡̫̱̞͕̰̟̯̝̬̟̱́̊̓̈́̉̋͌̒͂̂̕ÿ̷̨̛̛͚͚͋͊̅̾̊̂̎͛̾͆̍̒̔͘o̵̡̨̡̠̭͉̥͚̯̥͌͂̄̇̎͜͠u̵̢̱̰̫̪̞̼̙̝̫̦͍̪͋̌̃ͅr̶͕͍͖̓̈́͆̓̍́̄̒͜ ̸̢̧̨̨̛͔̺̜̰̜͕̞̟̜̙͌̾̑͗̀̿̊͝f̸̤̺̝̪̲̭̝̒̇̾̾͒̒̌͐͛͊̊a̷̢̡̛̖͉̤̙̰̞͓̓̾͊̂̈̄͛̊̔̋̚͜i̵̛͍̣̣̤̝̝̋͋̆̽͠l̸̙̙̯͖̿̒͌͗̔̅͐̾̿̈̿î̸̛̬̤̫͙̬̐͛̌̅̎̿̊͊̈́͊͛̈̓̉͘ṇ̵̡̩̤̪͔͉̟̣̂̑̏̏͑͆́͌͜͝g̴̨͓̝͓̫̩̳̖̥̱̲̪̑̅͑̔̊̈̚͜ś̶̨̯̬̮͉̟̟̰͝.̸̨̤̱̠̝̦̤̞̹͖͖̦͖͙͔̊͊͐̇̔ͅ ̷̢̱̼͕̗̠́͑͆̓̈́̉̓͊̏̕͠͝͠͠V̸̢̯̫̝͕̖̜͎̝̈̒̈̌́̊̿̓͂́̂ȩ̴̧͓̹̯͍̰͓͈̟̱͈̈́͂̈̐̅̓̄̚͠ͅŗ̷̠̩̟̤̼̬̳̯͕̗̝͌̔͆̂̔͗̏͆̏͒͝y̷̭͇̙̞͉̰̿͑̓͊̋̓͒̓͊̀͗̔̇̕͝ ̵̧̧̫̮̞̠̗̖͔̿̑̎͐͋͗̾̾̉̎͛͑͛w̸̝͙̩̤͉̠̮̏̓́͐́̅͋̀̐͐͊̽̊͘̕͜͝ȩ̷̬͚̖͛̐͛̈́̽̀ļ̷͇̼̰̣̙̦͐̓̈́̈́̈́̽́́́̊͛͝l̵̢̨̠̹̥̹̥̬̹̓̾̀́̔̓͑́͗̓̏̂̐̀,̷̢̧̛̤̭̹̙̖̬̣̲͉̙̜͚͉͐̏̀̍̒̇̓̌̇̓̎͌͛͑͊͘ ̵̨̞̻̘͖̝̲̗̜͔̖̒̔̓̀͗̍̽͜͠ͅĮ̸̛̟͖̥̠͒́̈́̑͒̈́̽̿̿͝ ̴̨̛̋̉̌͒̓͆̊̔̑̿ẁ̸̨̪̝̲̹̞͔͌̃̏ī̵̛͎̊̿̀͛̌͆͂́̊̂̅̃͝l̴̨͕͓̟̣̖̍̍̆̇̒̊͌̄́̚͘̕l̷̖̊̏̀͝͠ ̴̺̤̥̜̝̦͇̥̬̟̗͍͍͙̓̾̆́̃̈́͊͌̈́͑s̷̡̺̜̦͇̥̀͗͝h̶̲͚̗̔͜͝ȃ̴̛̻̮͉̦͎͗̀͐͗͑͒̊͘͝͠r̸̡̡̛͙͑̆͂̊̓̉̈́̐̎̀̾͋̔̉̕ȩ̷̟̹̱͈̗̺̦̫͇̝̤̽̅̓̈́̾͐̈́̍͑̂͐̀̇̍͝͠͝.̶̧̰̘̤̝̠̰͚̓̈́̃͛̅́́̎̽͛͂̀͒̾̚̚͝ͅ.̶̢̧̱̫͈̖̣̣̦͍̞̮̪̥̇͐͐̂͛͒̓͛̕̚͘͜ͅ.̴͖͔̟͈̞͙̞͐̈́̋̓̊͛͒̅̿̇̊͘̚̕ͅ ̷͓̥̱͍̮̝̝͈͓͎̣͐͋͆̈́̾̎͆̅͗̄̓̃͂̾͘͠à̵̞̘̋̏͑̀̋̎͜͠ ̵̛̯͖͚̠̄̿̈́̎͋̐̇̎̄̄̈́̑̚͘͝ͅg̶̡͙̙̣̱̮̍̄̍̆͊l̷͙͖͈͓̖͚̫̄̑ȋ̸̢̢͙̹͎̖͉̭̺̦̠̫̻̥͍̘̉̏͒̾͐̂͆ͅm̴̨̨̨̱̟̘̝̱̺͇̱͖͔͐͒̾̈̒̓͐̅̆̽̃͊̈͐̔̕p̴̡̛̛̟͎͍̼͙͓̤̥͓͓̹̯̜͙̽͋̆̇͊̍̑̑̃̈́͑͗ͅͅs̸̡͎͔͔̍̋̆̚͝e̷̯̰͓͖͉̫̭͖̖̱͎̥͊̕͜.̸̧͎͔̖̤̜͔̼͈̬̪̲͕̜̃̋̒̂̃̓̔̈́̌̈́ͅ

Before Jason could object or question, or even react, the tentacles suddenly lurched towards him, snaring him as easily as any rabbit in a trap, binding him as surely as any shackle or rope.

And then one went in his ear, a thin tendril that wormed through the canal, pierced the drum with a jolt of pain, crawling deeper and deeper, winding its way in where nothing was ever meant to go, and suddenly he saw it.

An obelisk made of hardened shadows, crawling with indecipherable runes atop runes atop runes atop runes he could almost read them if he just looked closer stared longer offered more of himself

An obelisk made of bone, smeared with blood that revealed writing in Latin lettering dragging sounds of ecstasy from his throat in pronounciation

An obelisk made of light that burned his eyes from their sockets but he could not look away he didn't want to look away why would he ever look away he could still see the shadows

A mountain, hollow, jutting upwards towards a roiling sea that hung impossibly where a sky should be, holding a dark star.

Ỳ̵̢͖͔̦̳̫̦̠̳̅̂̎̒͐̽̈́̌͊̔̏̂̀̃̇̾Ő̴̟̈́͑̄̃U̸̡̳̻̥̝͇͉̲̻̣̲̱͙̜͊́̀̀̀̀͊ ̵̣̺̰̱̲̹̬̤̐̅͊̾̔͂͒͑͋͊͒͊͠W̶̝͍̻̜̝̞̤̱̪̳̺̮̏̊͗̆̒̈́͋͗̋̆Ĭ̵̡̢̛̠̝̦͙͔̭̬͚̥̔̆͂̊͆͊͊̑̑̾͘͘̕͜͜ͅḶ̴̥̟͎͓͙͕͓̤̬̞̂̿́̋̐̎͝ͅL̷͚͖͂̏̑̄ ̵̼́̚P̵̡̢͙̮̠͇͕̫̮̜̥͉̮̥̞̉͐̐̓R̶̢̧͚̦̭̱͙̜̮̬͈̖̆̂̅͒̆̈́̃̓ͅE̷̯̔P̸̨̱̹͖̼͔̭̦̯̦̰̹͚̙͛͒̔͐̀̀͐̓̄̓̿͘̕ͅẠ̷͍̫̥̻͍͚͚̤͕͓̟͍̮͍͎̌͛̓̀̄͐͊͒͌̕͘͠ͅR̶̨̢̢̢̛̜̣̰̝͎̮̼̠̱̒̑͊̐́̄̓̾̍́̈́̌̈́ͅÉ̴̛̞̘̲̏̇̓̅̅̈́̏̇̏́̋̚̚ ̷̣̤͉̉̔̽͜Ṱ̴̡̧̳̜̤̟̟͚̲̪̮̔̈́̀H̷̻͇̺̜̘̟̼̐͐̋̆́̄͑̉̊͘Ė̶̲̙͎̼̋͛͋̅̌̈́̍̇͂̍ ̵̩͈̠̥̪͎͓̙̘̤͇̣̅͛̊̚Ẅ̵̺͙̦͍̥͍̑A̷̧̘͇̲̠̝͈̺̣̻͍̓̿̚Y̷̧̨̨̤̭̟͖̖̠̺̜̤̘̻̞̬̥̽͒̅̋

And the world went white.

And Jason woke, on the floor, coated and filled with a substance that was best not discussed in polite company. It was even oozing out of his ears... Eugh.

And Jason had no idea what to do with any of that.

"Great. Now I'm the fuckin... Fantasy antichrist or something."

[hayw1res]

𖦹 ` 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧

𝅄 ; synopsis : von lycaon is a true gentleman, he would never act on his selfish desires on his master. that is until mating season rolls around…

𝅄 ; warnings : 18+ , knotting , mating press , mentions of breeding “pregnancy and pups” , p in v , unprotected sex , light predator x prey , slight dubcon but everything is consensual , animalistic urges , slight fluff at the end

𝅄 ; a/n : my first fic on this account, i do hope you enjoy! my requests are open of course. not proofread ; sorry for any errors!

NEW ERIDU, is home to many individuals and home to many different factions. One of those being Victoria Housekeeping . You found yourself at the mercy of those individuals from time to time, especially the ever so proper Von Lycaon. A gentleman through and through , who isn’t afraid of protecting his dear master from the depths of the hollows where you often find yourself after conducting research.

Now, you knew better not to get too involved in any of his personal business, but when he sent a sudden notice of absence it worried you. Why on earth would he need to leave? For how long? What was wrong with him? You had to know, as his close friend and well.. esteemed patron. That’s what lead you to meet at the place you knew would have your answers. Strangely enough, none of the girls were home either, not even Ms Alexandrina.

It sent a shiver down your spine as you crept through the empty halls, it was silent..eerie. It was almost perfect for their faction at least but even for them this seemed a little far fetched. A little too silent for your liking. You could hear the way your heel clicked and clacked against the concrete floor beneath you. It was dark, the sun set a while ago..the moon shined bright through one of the cracked windows, the cold hair caused your hairs to raise and goosebumps to form. Why was everything suddenly so much scarier?

You just needed to find Lycaon and deliver the basket of treats you made for him , to hopefully quell whatever illness he described in his latest message as to why he had to be distant for a while. You turned the corner, only a few feet away from the room of the wolf thiren when you heard a growling. It pierced through your ears as the only thing breaking the eerie silence, that and now your increased heartbeat. You gasp, It sounded like he was in pain.. you didnt want him to feel pain anymore! You were just here to help.

You pick up the pace almost speed walking to his door, it was locked. You turn the handle again and again, calling out to him to let you in! To let you cure his sickness. Oh how naive and ignorant you are. The wolf was no longer the pristine and well groomed man you usually met , but more an untamed beast of pure and undeniable lust. The door swung open, almost off its hinges as he towered above you. Did he get taller? His chest was exposed, his once clean attire was discarded in rags behind him. He panted , his fangs almost dripping in saliva as he looked at you like you were his meal.

You didnt know why your legs burned as you ran away from the beast, you didn’t even know why you were running to begin with. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you heard his heavy footsteps behind you, no less giving you a lead. You knew Lycaon could catch up to you if he truly wanted to. But this wasn’t Lycaon this was someone—something else. You blanked, which way did you come from? Where were you? You made the mistake of standing idle while an animal hunted you. His breathing was ragged in your ear as his clawed hand tightened around you waist yet he didnt hurt you, in fact it was the opposite.

“Stay.” He finally spoke, his voice was almost unrecognizable as the rest of his appearance. His fur was unkept, his eyes were almost completely black as he stared down at you..but the small part of him was still there- that still wanted to protect you, his master. He knew exactly how to, he knew how to protect you from everyone else, everyone who wasn’t him—every other thiren or human out there who dared to claim you. No. He would do it first before them all.

Completely compromised, you’re almost forced in position with your face touching the hard cold floor and his hands forcibly tearing apart your garments. You squeal, you try and break free and tell Lycaon to calm down! Your pleads fall deaf to his ears, the only sense he can make out is your scent. Arousal, fear.. it was a deadly mix for a wolf, it made him crave you more. His hands were somehow soft against your plush skin, playing with the fat of your thighs as he forced your body in every position he could until he was satisfied. You couldn’t help but feel your core leak at the sight of him when you’re finally on your back. His cock was large and swelling, pulsing over your entrance as he tried to hold back every urge he could until he knew you were ready.

His long digits found way into your core, it stun as he dragged them in and out, you knew you needed more than this you needed him. “Ly—Lycaon” You’d call, forcing him to throw out every thought telling him to take his time. You needed him as he needed you, and who was he to deny his master their desire? He almost couldn’t resist when your walls clamped around his thick member, his saliva dripped down onto your exposed chest- coating your mounds with the liquid as his hand came up to massage it in. His pace began slowly, he still cared of course. You could feel everything, every thrust, every twitch—you could feel it all.

Gradually he sped up, he started to thrust at an unforgiving pace, his moans breathless and mixing with your downright pornographic voice, he never felt so much pleasure in his life—all that buildup truly meant something now that he can unload everything he had into you, yes, yes hed give you his all. He would fill you to the brim and get you nice and pregnant with his kin—with his pups. You could do that right?

“you-you will mother..mother my kin—wont you master?” He purred, his tongue lapping at your neck as he started to fuck you like an animal- like the beast he truly was. You could barely speak back, your brain was practically mush at this point. You could only cling to the little you could as your poor cunt got abused by his unforgiving pace. His knot began to swell against the base of his cock, you could feel it prodding at your entrance— no, you couldn’t take this! Not when you could barely take his cock. That didn’t matter to Lycaon though, you would take it whether you liked it or not. His hands came to your thighs yet again but this time to force them beside your head, your teary eyed fucked out face only urged him on.

“yes—yes! take my knot.. my beloved-! my master—please, please let me in..” He’d growl before biting down on your neck , you scream as you feel that familiar burst of energy shock through you- the slick from your cum and arousal created the perfect substance for his knot to slide inside of you..filing you to the brim with his cum. He licked at your neck as his tail wagged behind him furiously.. he finally found someone suitable for his kin.. for his love..for his desires to be fulfilled.

He couldn’t let you go now, not even long after he calmed down. In reality, he was terrified on seeing you now that he was in the right state of mind..what an idiot he was. “Master—I deeply apologize for my behavior. This is why I notified everyone about the full moon” His voice made you chuckle, of course.. the damn moon. “Master-?” He called again, afraid he may have broken you. You surely were “broken” at least that’s how your body felt.

“Lycaon”

“Yes Master-?”

“Carry me to bed”

“Of course..I am at your service”

[starboye]

pairing: sub!nate jacobs x dom!male reader

request: please write about your nate jacobs in a collar thirst omg i would kill for thatttt! him being a good lil pet and taking whatever his master gives him omfg yes

warnings: smut, edging, praise kink, cum denial, teasing, cursing, sub and dom, bondage

chefs note: i think i might have a thing for big submissive men

people get a little surprised to hear you're the dominant one in the bedroom when you have a tall beefy man next to you, little do they know that same tall beefy man was currently sitting on your bed with the prettiest pink collar that slept your name in diamonds around his neck and his hands tied to the head board awaiting your every order.

"oh nateee" you call out to him in a sing song tone as you walk into the room in a slutty set of lingerie that showed off your ass a little "what do you think" you asks doing a little spin for him, your ass immediately catching his eyes "i- i love it" nate stutters just wanting you to finally let him fuck you in that sweet sweet lingerie "y'think so" you question.

"mhm mhm" nate nods as some drool rolls down his lip "oh nate your drooling again" you pout climbing onto the bed and crawling over to him, your ass in clear view as you do so, you'd been teasing nate like this for the past 2 hours, you would put on one of your many sets of thin sexy lingerie and fault it in front of nate, forcing him to watch you flaunt your ass as he his dick strained against underwear.

you hover over his dick as you wipe the saliva from his lip "please y/n please i need it" nate begs trying to kiss you "no nate i told you i was just gonna show you some lingerie sets and get your opinion" you tease "you know this is torture for me" he says, a hint of desperation in his voice as his hips buck upwards into your ass making you bounce up a little.

"what'd i tell you about disobeying me nate" you say planting yourself onto nates lap, his dick poking at your hole "to never do it" nate whines "then why do it" you ask "i need to be in you so bad please y/n" nate whines rolling his hips under you for just a smidgen of friction, and right then an idea pops in your head, you pull nates aching red cock out of his boxers and its almost bigger than your hand.

you lightly stroke his cock "up down up down up down" nate mutters to himself as beads of pre cum form on his tip "good boy likes it just like that huh" you tease rubbing your finger on his red swollen tip "mhm s'good" nate says trying to hold himself from cumming to savor the moment but he cant, not with the way your hand tugs at his length "m'gonna cum" nate moans but his high is cut off by you removing your hand from his dick.

"no no no no please y/n please i wanna cum" nate pleas struggling against his restraints "what does this say" you ask pulling at his collar "y/n's toy" nate recited "that's right so if you wanna cum you're gonna have to work for it" you say kissing nate and leaning back up, nates lips chasing for more contact, you were basically depriving the man of everything he wanted and making him delve deeper and deeper into being nothing but your cum boy.

"now are you gonna hold it in for me" you ask as you bring nates dick into your hand once more "i promise" nate says lifting his head too look at you, lust and control filled your eyes while his eyes were filled with need and desperation, you began stroking his dick again as nate could feel the climax bubbling up inside of him "that's my good boy keep holding it" you cooed laying small kisses on his neck.

after hours of edging nate had become a babbling mess, his dick covered in saliva and other fluids as you enjoyed the sight before you, nate begging to cum, his wrists now bruised after pulling at the restraints so much "y/n i need it" nate begged as tears rolled down his messy face, his neck ruined with hickeys and some on his chest "such pretty begging" you mutter as you continue to deny the man of his climax.

"y/n please" nate cries, his legs shaking under you, you look into his eyes to see he really wants this, he needs this "fine you can cum" you say and before you can finish the sentence nate cums in your hand as his muscles and body contorts with each spurt "thank you" nate shakily says as his body finally calms down from all the shaking before he faints.

"you're my good boy" you say with a smile as you lick the cum from your fingers and kiss nates forehead, you take the restraints off his wrists and inspect the bruises on them "they'll be fine in a couple days" you mummer to yourself before taking the collar off, you tilt his head to the side to admire the love marks you put on his neck, now he really belongs to you.

taglist: @spermeboy @mailmango @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓟𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆. KAMISATO AYATO ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

ৎ୭ — · · 2.1k ノ fem reader — distracting him from work in a certain way ノ petnames — dear . wife . darling ノ implied breeding kink . fucking against the wall ノ teasing and flirting . established relationship . marriage

When he sees you in his office room this late, he knows his frustrations with endless paperwork finally end as the long-awaited — and, what is wee embarrassing to admit, long-forgotten — break came to visit. Break, albeit used to describe many situations and events, in this particular case means you, his most beautiful wife. Ayato’s favourite type of break.

“It’s late, my dear,” he says, tone playful. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping already?”

Your fingers graze against his temple in a caring manner, and he purrs with satisfaction, allowing you to sit right beside him near the low table.

“I wanted to see you. It’s so cold in bed without you…” Your hand slowly slides from his temples to the nape, feeling your husband tremble ever so slightly at your meek touch. The warm pads of your fingertips trail across his shoulders and the area where the neck meets the broad back, resting for a bit and then gently rubbing circles against it, working through the layers of expensive garments. You don’t say anything for a few long minutes — rather, you’re fully immersed in taking care of his stiff muscles.

“Judging by the warmth of your palms, perhaps your claim is not entirely true, hm? Leaving your cosy bedding just to visit me in nothing but a flimsy robe? I sense an intrigue rather than a genuine concern.” Ayato’s hands grab yours before they escape anywhere else. He gives your knuckle a quick peck. Only once, unimpeachable, and he does this every single time you crave some intimacy after what seemed like eternity without him.

Frankly, you do not appreciate it. A pout forms immediately on your lips. They feel lonely, unkissed.

“Spare me a moment or two.” You wrap around his neck, burying your face in the curve of his shoulder and inhaling the intoxicating scent. Camellia flowers and cherry blossoms — a fragrance almost too sweet and innocent for a man such as Lord Kamisato. “I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself anymore if you’re not near me.”

What could have been better than enjoying all those delectable noises reserved only for him? A solid offer. No wonder you two are together, one always outsmarting another, always trying to bargain a better deal, be it a kiss, a hug, or an indecent touch during a walk in nature where even butterflies can’t seem to find a way to your secret place.

Insufferable are his thoughts now that you’ve inflicted this venom of lust into his system. If anything, the first dosage was administered long before this evening and had gone untreated due to your husband’s own unwillingness to firmly stop himself from overworking.

Ayato must say that it takes both more patience and determination than usual to fight off your beauty. The purple of his eyes never loses its enticing luster — a mystery worthy of thousands of poems dedicated solely to you. Why should he torture himself any longer while you’re within his reach, offering yourself so obediently?

“My sweet wife is already going for the kill.” His arms encircle your waist in one fluid motion. As expected, he grins to himself, feeling you shiver with excitement against his chest, gaze wandering between your parted lips and star-stricken eyes. “If your request wasn’t so very irresistible, then maybe… Oh well.”

None of you waste any more time, shamefully clawing at each other’s garments just to open them enough to continue making out. You cling to his nape as he puts one hand beneath your ass to hoist you up in order to carry you closer to him.

Every breath burns his throat until he presses you onto the nearest wall — away from the main corridor and prying ears of curious servants, which is unfortunate since he has planned something particularly scandalous involving said corridor. This one he will remember for another occasion, that is. Nothing lost. It does not matter anyway — whatever idea would’ve come to his head can be used tomorrow, a day after tomorrow, anytime, provided that the opportunity arises once again.

Ayato allows himself a brief evaluation of his abandoned tasks before getting down to business. A mere moment later, he’s fucking you relentlessly against the wooden column, your hair tangled with the surface and messy behind your head. With a warm hand on your cheek, it contrasts with the cool breeze coming through the window.

Debauched noises escape your throat without regard to decency, like waterfalls running dry after a hot summer, until there is nothing left but a silent heap of exhales.

Still starving for attention, deprived of everything your beloved husband has been reluctant to provide these past evenings, even the most minuscule gestures spark flames below your navel.

Supposedly, getting so easily wet could be considered unwelcome, always messing up your underwear, but in the company of your adored man, it’s perfect. It’s foolishly easy to slip past the entrance of your pussy and force it to catch every tiny shift of his shaft.

The quick work on your clothes made you too flustered to act before you could even explain your presence here in more detail. With an arm sneaking around your waist, he pulls you closer with a goal to slip his painfully hard cock deeper into your sodden cunt.

Alongside the kiss pressed to your forehead, his mouth lingers there for a brief moment, humming praises against your sweaty skin.

“Is this exactly what you wanted?”

“I love you.” You pant in desperation, fisting at the back of Ayato’s embroidered suit. A string of needy whines flows from your tongue in rapid succession while his lips pepper kisses over your jawline, up and down and across your heated skin until they land on the juncture of your neck, eliciting a small gasp as a reward.

“Aren’t you the most precious one? You should be aware that your words are more dangerous to my heart than any blade or poison.” The Commissioner lets his guard down, a ripple of relief and solace washing over him in the loving warmth of your closeness, and he leans into the embrace while holding you as careful as one holds an ancient vase.

“Hmm, isn’t that adorable that even you have a soft spot?” Your giggle turns into a wanton yelp as he manhandles you to fit against his lean body like a missing puzzle piece.

“Only because I adore you so dearly, I will allow myself to pause the work of utmost importance.” His fingers are brushing against the soft material of your night robe, creeping under the fabric to keep your thigh high enough for him to push his pelvis right against your clit. “It’s not as important as you, I have to admit.”

He kisses your cheek, and his lips travel down your jawline, the feather-like pecks on the side of your collarbone, and you can’t help the content sigh that escapes your mouth. His breath is ticklish, and when his teeth gently nibble the delicate skin, the gasp that follows makes him chuckle, his pace not slowing down.

“If my darling is not silent,” Ayato whispers, his hot breath fanning against your ear, “the servants may notice something unusual is happening in my private quarters.”

As if it would not rouse is excitement…

Such a threat is empty, just a fickle of a joke to raise your pulse before his pace returns to the previous rhythm. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes betrays his amusement, knowing that he will most likely fuck you dumb until you whimper out his name pleadingly, for he does not care if others hear how much of a perfect lover he is. Those working under him are long adjusted to the questionable ways of their Lord’s doings.

You can’t deny the effect it has on you, though. Especially with his hand moving to your mouth, covering it completely to muffle any delicious mewls slipping down your tongue.

“Bite it, if you have to.”

A rush of heat engulfs the pit of your stomach, your cunt squeezing his shaft hungrily. He doesn’t slow down — no, quite the opposite, as if motivated by the shame that strikes your silhouette. His thrusts are steady and merciless, and you are glad that the column is keeping you upright; otherwise, you’d collapse into his arms like a lithe rag doll.

It works like a charm on you. Heavy weight of his words, a need for control in every little detail, always caring, always considerate towards you. Although there are times where your husband will bend to your will and please you thoroughly, there are also moments like these when he won’t give you a chance to think straight, all because of such a simple reason.

He adores you to the point of addiction.

And now he wishes to enjoy you to the fullest without further pauses, reducing his duties to mere distractions that otherwise would stop him from revelling in your body.

No longer form a coherent sentence, you accept the mind-numbing sensation of his cockhead hitting the deepest spots simultaneously with his fingers rubbing at your wet, puffy clit. The tension in your core is threatening to snap at any moment, your juices soaking his length as your pussy greedily milks his shaft with each and every snap of his hips into your pliant body.

Even with limbs unable to muster out any strength to cuddle to your husband, the feeling of your hole gripping him like a vice rewiring Ayato’s mind into a mush, a delirious haze of lust. He removes his hand from your mouth, cupping your face and wiping the drool that is trickling down your chin, his thumb gently caressing the damp skin.

Dark lavender eyes follow sparkles dimming in your fluttering gaze as you try your best to not fall into bliss and close your lids. His forehead rests against yours, his breathing heavy and shallow, his lips dangerously close, and the Commissioner swallows at the familiar heat pooling in his abdomen.

“Just like this, dear,” he says softly, his voice trembling and strained. “Just a bit more.”

With a shaky sigh, he shoves his mouth against yours in a sloppy kiss to avoid any loud noise to escape him, savouring the flavour of your tongue as if you were the finest dessert prepared solely for his appetite.

Despite being unsure if you could truly make it last until your husband finds relief as well, you fight for balance on your shaking thighs while even a portion of your weight feels too much to bear on your wobbly knees. His cock swells, the pressure coiling and tightening from the inside of his balls as the release hits him like a tidal wave. As soon as his essence souses the walls of your womb white, you sob and join him in the moment of sweetest carnal satisfaction.

The sudden contractions of your cunt bring you both to the sweetest peak of pleasure, all too intense to not slump down the polished floors in a puddle of fine silk stained with your mixed essences.

Although Kamisato Ayato is the epitome of politeness and strict discipline, there is no way to deny the truth that he might turn the world upside down just to rest between the thighs of his darling wife.

The delirious euphoria comes to an end when he slips himself out of your snug cunt, soft and worn, satisfied but also amused upon noticing that some of his cum already leaked out of your hole. A pity, such a waste that his seed is seeping through the slippery gash. Maybe the idea of making you pregnant will stay with him until the next close encounter, then.

There is nothing left of composure that usually defines him as the leader of the Yashiro Commission. Instead, the sight is almost unnerving compared to his usual image. Clothes crumpled and skewed, hair ruffled atop his sheen forehead, and the pink blush adorning his cheeks. Perhaps you did him some good tonight after all, clearing his mind and relaxing the muscles tense from sitting still for hours. There are plenty of tasks left to be done — he won’t sleep even after exhausting himself — but perhaps now he’s willing to consider joining you in bed for the rest of the night.

As if hearing your thoughts, he chuckles breathlessly, scooping you up in his embrace without worrying about cleaning the mess just yet.

“There are several things I’d rather do instead of dealing with t-those reports right now...”

“Do I r-really have to coerce my beloved husband into sleeping together?”

“Obviously, no. It’s only a matter of fact that I forget about the passage of time until you have to visit my office. But wasn’t it just as sweet?” His teeth nibble at your earlobe before he laughs under his breath again.

[smuttysabina]

COMM: A Question of Leadership

(Everglow x Fans, x Reader; 2.4k words) Tags: Creampies, Urination, Urine-Danger, Anal Sex, Multiple-Penetration, Corporate Sabotage, Some Forceful Sex, Some Wholesome Sex, Too Much Math, Inspirational Leadership, Perverse Leadership, These Girls Should Hydrate Less

A cloud of despair hangs over the room, as Everglow stare mournfully at the open tablet on the table. Lounging about on couches, they all shoot glares at their erstwhile leader, EU; whose usually bratty demeanor is much subdued by the judging looks of her group-mates. Immature Onda, haughty Yiren, kindly Sihyeon, obscene Mia, Sultry Aisha; all of them scowling at the cringing form of their leader. Onda is the first to break the silence, soon followed by the others as they berate EU,

"You pissed on the CFO?" "Oh we are so fucked..." "How did you even manage to do that?" "Did you forget to go beforehand, again?" "I'm starting to see why Onda is getting sent to the top office more often..." "Okay, it uh, it was an accident okay? It could happen to any of us!" "Liar! We all saw the video!" "Well um... He did seem to enjoy it...?" "Our next three comebacks got cancelled!" "It's not my fault he had the worst case of post-nut depression ever! He told me to make it kinky!" "Oh god oh god how do we fix this?" "Fuck if I know, our dear leader just treated an executive like a toilet." "Okay, so what if... we chose a new leader! Then she could go make things right!" "We already sent Mia to make amends, that's why we might even continue to have comebacks" "Yeah I had three dicks shoved up my ass!" "Don't... don't you like that sort of thing?" "Well, yeah, but it still was a little much after the fifth group of guys tried it..." "..." "So... a new leader then?"

Everglow spend the next hour squabbling amongst themselves, trying to figure out who should be their next leader; if they even need one. Unfortunately, the position was hotly contested, in large part due to its tangible perks: the first pick of partners at any fan event. After all, while getting worshipped by fans could be quite enjoyable, it was even more intoxicating when their adoring lovers were attractive themselves. And of course, all of the girls had their own... tastes, and would generally prefer to have their own needs satisfied before worrying about the others. Thus, the arguing, the yelling, the screaming, the slapping, the fingering, the mental breakdowns, the tossing of various small objects (including EU), the memorable fisting session. So it was finally agreed upon that the best battlefield to determine who would fill the august role of leader, would be fought in the bedchamber; what was the point of a leader if she could not fuck so exquisitely that she inspired her groupmates? The girls decided that their fans would be the ones to choose the lucky girl, by voting with their cocks! 667 fans would be gathered for the event, with 600 of them used in a general free-for-all, 66 of them used for more... exotic tests, and the final wildcard serving as a potential tiebreaker. Everglows fans did not disappoint in their appointed task.

Scattered over three days, the 600 fans were fed into the ravenous sexual machine that is the heart of any idol group; led into a large room they were free to pick any of the girls to unload their seed into. Of course, the girls pulled out all the stops to attractive potential fans. EU engaged in all manner of perverse and depraved acts, a thin veneer of contempt barely disguising her pleasure from cavorting with perverts. Onda meanwhile turned up her virginal charm to eleven, her mincing squeals and moans driving many a fan wild with breeding lust. Yiren by contrast was at her icy best, haughtily milking her fans with a callous disregard for their safety; just how they liked it. Sihyeon was as warm and loving as Yiren was cold and bitchy, wholesomely welcoming her lovers into her tight holes. Mia was of course, Mia; no orifice was left unviolated, as her charismatic lovemaking drained multiple fans at a time until she was literally soaked in fluids. And finally Aisha served as a mature counterpoint to Mia, receiving such fierce poundings that it was often difficult to tell who exactly was doing the fucking; and the screaming.

Then the girls' more... personal skills were tested on 66 of the 67 remaining fans. Since the leader was often favored to deal with VIPs, it would be best if her sexual skills could handle quality as well as quantity. So after several rounds of rather intimate blowjobs and displays of sexual prowess, Everglow has something approaching a leaderboard of sorts. Who is at the top... well that's a bit of irrelevant information for you, since poor little you have been stuck in a room for the past week; and positively stuffed full of slow-acting aphrodisiacs. Since what's the point of having a tie-breaker, if the deciding dick is unable to get it up? Thus, by the time you are dragged out of your temporary prison, you are more than eager to meet Everglow; and to say your manhood was as well would be an understatement. You are then shoved into a room, only to find yourself facing the idols you have already spilled much seed for; except now they are naked in fact as well as imagination. Everglow coo and nod in approval at the sight of you, your cock so rigid it is nearly vertical.

Eager to begin, EU quickly explains the rules to you, one minute inside of each girl, then after that you can fuck who you please, but you have to switch to another girl after another minute. The idol who claimed your seed would be the winner, and would get a sizable number of points added to their score. Then with a sleazy smile she announces that she would get to go first, since she was still the leader after all. Ignoring the annoyed groans of her group-members, EU welcomes you inside of her with a smile; every inch of your cock somehow fitting inside of her petite frame. She pulls you on top of her, pressing you down as she whispers absolutely filthy things in your ear, promising all sorts of depraved rewards if you would only just cum... But you do not, and you leave EU pouting as you move on to Onda. Who is the complete opposite of EU, simpering adorably as you she urges you to be gentle with her, saccharine sweet as she urges you to relax and creampie her 'virgin' cunt. But Onda is unable to make you finish, so you get passed onto Yiren. Who is as uninterested in you as Onda was over-attentive, blandly ignoring the fact that your manhood was currently pushing past her belly-button as she examines her fingers. Perhaps her bored attitude would have drained you on some other day, but instead she is left with an unfiled pussy.

You then get to enjoy the untender treatment of Aisha, who insists that you fuck her ass as hard as you can. Spanking your ass to spur you on, she cheerfully informs you in sultry tones over the loud slap of your balls against her asshole, that you could be as rough with her as you'd like... Unfortunately for Aisha however, your load remains unmilked, allowing Mia to take over next. Who is fairly calm and composed as you thrust away between her thighs, cupping your cheek with encouragement. Mia will gladly let you do anything to her, no matter how kinky, so long as you just relax and... Switch to Sihyeon, who if anything seems a bit flustered to find a stranger balls deep inside of her pussy. Her endearing squeaks heighten your lust to a surprising degree, her genuine excitement of your coupling scratching an urge you didn't even know you had. With a mighty groan, you empty your balls inside of Sihyeon, her legs instinctively wrapping tight around you as she squeals in surprise. She holds you tight against her, as the heat of your orgasm fades and your member shrinks out into the stuffy air with a wet pop.

It's difficult to hear what the other members of Everglow are saying over the pounding of blood in your ears, but judging by their tone they are not entirely pleased with this outcome. Sihyeon lets out a startled moan as squelching noises come from behind you as the girls examine the scene.

"Wait, so that's it?" "Ugh, he came so fast!" "Did he like, cum cum though or just leak a lot?" "No he finished, holy fuck that's a fat load" "I'm kind of happy he didn't jizz inside of me now..."

You are distracted by Everglow's chatter by the gentle pushing from Sihyeon, still getting squished by your body weight. You stagger up off of her, helped along by the unkind hauling of the other girls. Beaming with barely contained joy, Sihyeon wiggles to her feet, her pussy belching your load down her thighs as she hurriedly throws a shift over her nude form. EU glares daggers at you as she pokes the tablet, updating the scores; a cheerful celebratory noise sounds from it as it announces the winner. Doing a little dance, Sihyeon hurries out of the room after giving you a quick peck on the cheek; as the new leader, it's her job to make nice with the VIPs. Meanwhile, you... get shoved onto the floor by an irate Yiren, who pins you easily with a leg on your chest. Her lips curl into a snarl as she drags her foot down your torso before toeing your still obvious erection. Yiren's eyes glimmer as you shudder from her prodding, evidently you are still extremely sensitive from your recent orgasm; so, punishment then.

"I sincerely hope you don't enjoy this, because your worthless meat caused me to lose," Yiren calmly explains as she orients your twitching cock skywards before sitting on it. You writhe at the over-stimulation, your manhood burning with sensations as Yiren's premium cunt abuses it, "Useless scum, you could have spent yourself inside of me, but no, instead you busted inside of fucking Sihyeon. Those VIPs would have been slobbering over a well-bred lady like myself, I would have had them eating out of my hand..." Yiren continues her monotonous riding, uncaring about your own pleasure as she adroitly grinds on it to maximize the pressure on her g-spot. Her eyes narrow as she notices your building excitement however, and she reacts accordingly, contemptuously slapping your balls to halt their rise, "No. you don't get to finish until I say so, evidently you are in need of training if you can barely last a minute inside of a woman." Yiren's calculated abuse only serves to arouse you even more though, and soon she is forced to hold on to your balls as pre-cum starts leak inside of her. Now thoroughly annoyed, she stops trying to contain your growing orgasm and simply seeks to ruin it. Yiren plants herself firmly against your crotch, unmoving as your balls finally empty themselves inside of that imperious bitch's pussy. You moan piteously though at the lack of pleasure, your member greedy for more stimulation yet unable to find it as Yiren makes sure that your cock is unable to move an inch. She wears a triumphant smirk as she slowly unmounts you, allowing your surprisingly rigid dick to flop out of her as she rises, "Disgusting, I feel bloated from all of your worthless semen; allow me to return it." With that, Yiren stoops slightly, straining as she does her best to force out every last drop of your cum. Your load leaks out onto your crotch, splattering messily across your cock as she rhythmically cleans herself out to the best of her abilities. With all that pushing however, is it any wonder that Yiren accidentally begins to piss on you? She lets out a disbelieving chuckle at first, but soon warms to the idea and smugly empties her bladder onto you as a gesture of disdain. Know your place, worm.

EU observes all this with barely disguised arousal, indiscreetly fingering herself as Yiren stalks away with her head held high. EU slithers over to you, arresting your attempt to get up by throwing herself atop of you; writhing in the puddle Yiren left. She is of course, vocal about her disgust at you forcing her to engage in such a deviant act, "You filthy pervert, how dare you haul me over your piss-covered body! I bet you're going to force me to clean off and ride your disgusting dick too!" With her lame excuse proclaimed, she confidently wiggles down your body and begins slurping on your manhood, forcing it to arise once more under her distressing attentions. After cleaning Yiren's piss and juices off of your cock, she scrambles to line it up with the damp lips of her pussy. But this pervert still has a trick up her sleeve, as she starts to squat on you, her hips suddenly rock forward, and you find your dick forcing its way into her barely lubricated asshole before you can stop her. EU Shrieks with pain, "Oh you brute! You forced your fat cock into my poor asshole, how could you!" Whereupon she squirts messily all over your crotch, her fingers going into overdrive as they churn the cum out of her. And this was just the start... EU rides you for what seems like an hour, haphazardly bouncing about as she squirts and squeals; even pausing to add her own piss to the messy puddle drenching your torso. Getting slathered with her stinking piss is the final straw for you however, your dick giving into the foul sensations enveloping you and rewarding EU with your seed. She howls as she feels your cum spew into your asshole, spasming as she sticks her tongue out and drools like some cheap hentai character; gurgling disgusting comments about how your semen feels inside of her guts.

Evidently not too put out by her loss of position, EU then retires from the room, leaving a stinking trail of liquid behind her as she hobbles out. Onda and Mia soon follow, grumbling between themselves as they leave; evidently searching for fresher meat to work their frustrations out upon. Which just leaves Aisha, who helps you to your feet before casually rubbing your still attentive manhood, "My offer still stands you know," she informs you with a sultry growl. Aisha bends over, spreading her cheeks in welcome as you grasp her hips.

"Don't hold back, I want this to hurt..."

[xyaehir]

all i need —

SYP — “girl ur made for me, cuz ur love is all i need” just scenarios <3

GEN. — fluff, crack

WARN. — gn!reader, not proofread

NOTES — yk i love the grumpy x sunshine and polar opposites troupe so why not incorporate some hints of that into this? might make a pt 2..

at first glance, not many people would expect either of you to pursue each other.

the way you both handle things are different, reactions and such. and when you think of that, there’s only one situation that comes to mind..

throwing your head back slightly, you laugh at one of his lame jokes. hand in hand, both of you turn the corner, still too invested in your conversation to take in the sight in front if you.

he’s the first one to look, halting his movements as he stays rooted to the ground. you, taking note of his tense form, stop to turn to him. cocking an eyebrow, you nudge him on his shoulder and worryingly ask, “babe? you okay?”

his mouth is agape a bit and his eyes are fixated on whats in front of him. seeing as he’s not gonna answer, you follow his line of sight and gasp slightly.

there in front of both of you stood a couple leaning against a wall, making out. you grimaced slightly, noticing their lust for each other through their eager movements. ‘they kiss like fish..,’ you thought, deadpanning.

you felt a tug on your arm, pulling you back.

“c’mon, let’s go before they see us. they might think we enjoy watching them eat each others’ face,” he whispered, hooking an arm around your waist.

you were about to comply but you thought of something way better than just ignoring it. a mischievous smile creeps its way on your face and he grows concerned, not liking that smug look on your face.

unraveling your arms from his, you gasp exaggeratedly, successfully catching the couples attention. they break away from each other reluctantly and flushed, glaring at you.

“i knew you had somebody else!” you screamed, stomping away and wiping away invisible tears from the corners of your eyes. he trails quickly after you, standing beside you as you both hide behind a wall.

“are you kidding me? ugh!” you hear one of them shuffling, probably walking away from the other one.

“wait, baby! i swear, i have no idea who that was!” the other one pleaded, scrambling after his ‘baby’. his thick accent making it all the more funnier.

you leaned forward, clutching your stomach in laughter. he stared at you in slight disbelief before joining in on your giggling.

“what are you doing?”

uh oh, caught in the act.

you turn around, hiding the item behind your back. you grin widely but sheepishly. “what do you mean?” you smile innocently, stuffing the perfume bottle up your shirt.

tilting his head slightly, he raises a brow, skeptical. he walks over to you and hastily snatches the bottle from your hands.

“hey! i wasn’t done with that,” you whined, reaching for it but to no avail. he held it far from your reach, above his head. he tsked.

“i’ll give it back if you tell me what you were doing.”

you sighed, mumbling something so soft it was barely audible. “huh?” he nearly squeaked.

“i wanted to spray my perfume on your clothes so when we go out, people know you’re taken,” you grumbled. “but mostly because people are doing it on tiktok..”

he didn’t stop babying you that whole afternoon. and he posted a tiktok about it. (it went viral)

it was a nice noon. the birds were chirping, the grass seemed greener and your boyfriend was throwing a tantrum.

“i don’t wanna!”

“stop acting like a baby. its not that bad.”

“this isn’t fair.”

“what isn’t fair? you lost the bet, you have to do my dare,” you huff victoriously, smirking slightly.

he sighs, knowing there’s no way of convincing you to let him off. “fine, help me find one.”

“gladly,” you chirped, bouncing on the balls of your feet gently. your eyes scanned around the park before locking on someone. “right there,” you whispered, leaning to him and pointing at the person with your lips.

you shoo him to approach the person. he shakes his head and complies, walking backwards to cast you a pouty look to which you rolled your eyes at.

“excuse me?” he asked, approaching said persons line of sight. she smiled at him, waving, “hello! is there anything i can do for you?”

“i just wanted to tell you that your child is the chosen one,” he replied bluntly, pointing at her swollen stomach.

the woman blinked at him.

“child? i’m not pregnant.” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“oh.”

he ran away, dragging you with him before your knees buckled from your wheezing.

— (bllk) NAGI, SAE, RIN (genshin) DILUC, alhaitham (star rail) DAN HENG, jing yuan, BLADE (haikyuu) SUNA, TSUKI (KNY) GIYU, sanemi (ENCANTO) CARLOS, CAMILO () YOUR FAVES

@xyaehir 2023. This is my content, inspired or not. Do not translate, copy or plagiarise my works in any way. Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated. <3

[wcnderlnds]

stress reliever | colin zabel

✧ after a hard day at work your roommate colin comes home stressed and you have the perfect idea to help him out. ✧

・❥・warnings: 18+ nsfw. oral (m receiving), explicit language, alcohol mentions.・❥・ authors note: it’s only the second time i’ve wrote smut and im tired so if it’s bad just lie to me to spare my feelings im sensitive thank u

Being Colin’s roommate meant that you’d seen him come home from work in all different kinds of states. Some days were fine – he was the usual, cheery Colin that you knew but then he had the rougher days. The tough days where his job took its toll on him emotionally and mentally. Whether it was working on a hard case or interviewing witnesses, there were days where he was completely checked out. Today was one of those days. When Colin walked through the door to your shared apartment, you could instantly sense the tension in him. You knew better than to ask him what was wrong. He would always tell you when he was ready. Colin was good at communicating but it had to be when he felt comfortable to.

He threw himself down on the couch, running a hand through his hair with a deep sigh. You walked over to him, placing a glass of wine on the coffee table in front of him. You sat down beside him with your own glass of wine firmly in your hand. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he mumbled, loosening his tie. Admittedly, he looked hot as hell with his hair all ruffled and his tie undone but now was definitely not the time to be lusting over your best friend/roommate.

“Rough day? You seem tense,” You took a sip of your wine. It wasn’t your favourite but it was all the two of you had left.

“Yeah,” he placed the glass back on the table, leaning his head back on the couch. His eyes were focused on the ceiling, the exhaustion in his voice evident. “Very rough day.”

As you watched him, an idea formed in your head. It was risky and he could definitely reject you almost immediately but if the past was anything to go off, you were almost ninety percent certain he wouldn’t. Long ago, back when the two of you had first moved in together, you’d had a housewarming party, drinks had been flowing and one thing had led to another and the two of you found yourselves hooking up in his bedroom. The talk the next day was awkward but you’d decided it was a one off. Never to happen again. That wasn’t to say that you hadn’t thought about it because you had. Many, many times. Colin was probably the most attractive man you’d ever met so keeping your hands to yourself was a struggle everyday but you valued your friendship. That's why you told yourself your next move was to help him because you were friends after all. Friends helped each other so, really, you’d be doing him a favour.

Your hand rested on his thigh, slowly sliding upwards. Colin’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion, eyes darting from your hand to your face. Before he had a chance to speak, your hand brushed against the bulge in his pants, lightly squeezing. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he bit back a groan. It was only when your hand moved to unbutton his pants when he grabbed your wrist gently to stop you.

“What’re you doing?” He asked quietly, trying to keep his breathing normal and failing.

“Helping you relieve some of that tension. I think you deserve it after a hard day, don’t you?” You popped the button open, hand dipping inside to rub him through the thin material of his boxers. He was already half hard. How long has it been since someone touched this poor man?

He pondered it for a moment. “You don’t have to.”

“Colin, I want to so shutup, sit back and just enjoy it.”

He didnt have it in him to fight against it so he leaned back once again and bucked his hips up into your hand seeking more. ‘Might as well fully give in now,’ he thought. You took that as your cue to go all in, sinking to your knees in front of him. He could almost moan at the sight. You tugged his pants down along with his boxers. Colin hissed as the cold air hit his length. Your hand wrapped around his cock, Colin exhaling sharply when you slowly began to stroke. Your thumb grazed over his tip, gathering the pre-cum that had started to gather there. Hearing the groan from Colin only spurred you on, your hand speeding up, applying a little more pressure as you felt him harden beneath your touch.

“You’re so hard for me, baby. You really need this, don’t you?” You murmured, voice low as your head lowers down to his aching length. “Let me take care of you.”

Colin groaned the second your tongue darts out licking the tip of his cock. His head is thrown back as your tongue swirls around him, teasing him. You take him in your mouth, taking all of him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Hmpffff, shit,” Colin’s hands flew to your head, threading through your hair as he guides your movements.

You take him deeper, bobbing along his length. Occasionally, he hits the back of your throat causing you to choke, which in turn made the most beautiful moans come from Colin’s mouth. Your eyes meet his and you purposely moan around him, the vibrations going straight through his body. His fingers in your hair tighten as his breath gets heavier, his hips involuntarily bucking up into your mouth. With one final deep thrust into your mouth, he cums, spilling down your throat with a guttural moan of your name. You swallow his load, the bitter taste sliding down your throat. Finally, you release yourself from him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Colin sat there, cheeks red, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath back. “Wow.”

“So,” you said, climbing back up on the couch. “Feeling more relaxed?”

He turns his head to you with a chuckle. The blissed out look on his face is one you’ll be committing to memory. “Very. You’re… gonna have to let me repay the favour sometime.”

[leighsartworks216]

Say Something Loving

Astarion x male!Tav/Reader

Requested by Mutt_Thingy on AO3:

“so i was wondering if you could do a fic based on the song Say Something Loving by The XX. the song reminds me of him sooo much it hurts. especially including the scene where Astarion is asking for another night with Tav and says "i love you" in a bid to get them to sleep with him. i just thing if Tav was like "whats going on with you? why are you pushing for this? i dont think this is really what you want. its ok." and kisses him on the forehead and goes to bed. and Astarion is just kinda stunned by the concept of non transactional intimacy.

i would also prefer if Tav was male? and maybe taller than him?”

Wrote this in a hurry before I go to take my shower so I can get some actual work done so it's not proofread

Title based on "Say Something Loving" by The XX

Warnings: manipulation, references to sex, low self-worth, swearing

Word Count: 727

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“How about if I said these little words… Everyone’s favorite.” All at once, Astarion’s suave bravado slips away into something sad, almost pained. “I love you.”

The entire party, Astarion had taken a spot off to the side and stayed there, never straying except to grab another bottle of awful wine. He seemed lost in thought, eyes shifting over the many people but never lingering, never actually seeing. Perhaps it was an odd thing for you to notice, but even Shadowheart seemed to be enjoying herself.

This… whatever it was between you, was unrefined, unfamiliar. You’d enjoyed the first time you slipped off into the woods with him, and been so willing to give him the blood he needed to press on. But now, watching him pull line after line from thin air, practiced and perfectly measured to induce attraction and arousal, you’re not sure.

“What’s wrong, Astarion?”

The vampire blinks, confusion flickering over his face before he can put his mask back on. He smirks, tilts his head, smirks so a pointed fang pokes out. “Nothing, dear. I’m only consumed by my desire to explore you again.”

He wonders if he said something wrong when you only frown deeper. He feels utterly exposed as your eyes study his face, reading his expression carefully.

“Why are you pushing for this?” you press.

He laughs sharpish. “Like I said, this,” he gestures to the party, “is all rather dull. We’d have a much better celebration alone. It’ll be fun.”

He covers up his emotions well, you’ll give him that. But the way he speaks, it rubs you the wrong way. Like he’s trying to convince himself of the same thing. Trying to lure you in and assure himself this is the right thing to do.

You shake your head. “I don’t think this is really what you want.”

He wants to protest, firmly assure you that yes, of course he wants a night full of depravity and lust, but the words die when you smile. He doesn’t understand why you smile.

“It’s okay. It can wait.” He’s utterly lost when you carefully cradle the back of his head, slowly, giving him a chance to pull away. He… finds he doesn’t really want to. You lean down, brush aside his curls with your other hand, and press a kiss to his forehead. And then you’re stepping back, giving him his space once more. He stares up at you. His brain fights to recover, but he can’t imagine how. “You’re welcome to drink from me, if you wish. Goodnight, Astarion.”

You smile at him again, warm and patient, and retreat back to your bedroll. He’s still so lost. Why in the hells did you decline? It wasn’t even because you weren’t in the mood - you could tell he didn’t want it. Was he really so easy to read? More importantly, had he completely fucked up his plan?

It didn’t seem like it. You didn’t say you didn’t want a relationship, which was… good. And you’d kissed him, hardly something one would do if they were uninterested.

He’d never been kissed on the forehead before. Not so carefully. Not so sweetly.

His emotions fought themselves until the vinegar-wine felt even more sour in his stomach. He’d have to try harder, next time. If you didn’t want to sleep with him, then he had nothing else to offer. And once you realized that, you’d leave him in a heartbeat. His mind raced down that rabbit hole of thoughts (If you left him, he’d be without protection. He’d have to find someone else to seduce into protecting him, but everyone else was either too busy with their own issues or utterly distrusting of him. Without protection, Cazador would find him. And if Cazador found him-), until he chugged down the last of the wine with a grimace and slinked off into the woods.

He’d try harder. He had to make you want him.

Though, as he half-assedly skims his piercing eyes through the brush and trees, looking for anything edible to hold him over until everyone else went to bed, he couldn’t help feeling like his flirtations, his ‘I love you’ had felt different from before. Was it because the stakes were so much higher now? Or…

It’s not real, he reminds himself bitterly, and curses himself for falling for his own game.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @cyber-dump-171 @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @yarn_yogi @tototini

[orphicrose]

The Co-Host (Alastor x FemReader) X

<

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

Warnings ! ! Mentions of Death and Bl00D

W/C: 2.3K

Note : Thank you so so so much to everyone who has enjoyed this story. This is the last chapter to this book BUT I can make another book if anyone is interested. I really do appreciate the love this has gotten. As when it started I thought no one would open it and now i have so many readers.

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz @multifandom-superlover @t0xic1vi @saccharine-nectarine

--------------------------------------------------------

Rage filled his body, replacing his lust. Surging through his veins like some sort of adrenaline booster. "Satan...."

A cane appeared in his fingertips, gripping to tight they turned white. Circulation scared to temper with the angered wendigo. Shadows tailed behind his hooves like an army of deviancy. Nothing more to lose but his second life, but that was meaningless anyway without y/n. His minions disperse from him like pathogens looking for a host, flying through the walls and dimly lit areas of hell, looking for their target. Satan. 

Alastor rampaged through hell, his demonic form replacing any evidence of someone who was a human once upon a time. Radio dials replacing his pupils, and black tar like legs emerging from his torso like something from the deep sea. Face like a crazed killer relapsing, reminding him of who he was supposed to be. Lilith hadn't given him this great power for no reason, and he was going to use it. 

On the other side of hell, Y/n lay battered on a warehouse floor. Abandoned by its former workers, bought by Satan to be turned into another means of business without a doubt. 

"There were no distractions" She spluttered on the floor, arms bringing her away from the dirt. "My numbers are up, I don't understand..."

"Not even your sins can be of deterrence to that fool." The man mumbled, trailing around her like a coyote. "I should of killed him when I had the opportunity"

Y/n sat still, doe eyes following his movements with any anticipation to flee for her life. "I never asked for any of this"

"No one asks for anything!" He bites back, stopping in his step to lean towards the cowering demon at his feet. "I gave you a job to do, and you failed. I gave you opportunities to be a great overlord, a wealthy power to be reckoned with. And what do you do with it?"

She remained quiet, face falling to avoid his gaze. 

"What do you do with it?" He repeats. Voice quieter, more sinister. "You don't even use it" The quiet whisper turns to a dark chuckle. Repeating the sentence over and over. "You don't even use it". He can't even comprehend how anyone wouldn't want the power, how anyone would fail to use it. 

"What could one want more than raw magic?"

"Normality" Y/n mumbled. Feeling the blood running from her heart to her fingers, a sensation she missed from her previous life. "What do you need a million souls for? " Her tone became accusing, bolder. Climbing to her feet and balancing her stance to oppose the large man in front of her. She couldn't lose more than her life in this moment, she thought. "There is a limit for power, even for a sin as important as you. So, why so many?"

He bared his teeth, psychotic grin turning upside down to a menacing frown. Words nor forming audible, except for the growl vibrating the glare from his fangs. 

"Why do you need the souls?" Her voice raised, coming closer. Too close. One move and he could bite her head from her shoulders like a rabid bear. 

"Power?"

"I must bring her back!" A vociferous outcry escaped him. A new level of hostility replacing his aura, a hand reaching out and grasping her neck. Restricting any air from escaping his prey. "They took her from me" Guttural sounds gave her goosebumps, watching the tormented memories in his eyes crying, driving him to the brink of insanity as the seconds passed. His anguish pouring out in a storm of shattered words and furious tears. 

Y/n clawed at the broken flesh of his fists in desperation, her fear doing the work for her as her body flailed about under his undeniable grasp. Air struggling to escape her muffled ranting for help. Her vision began to fade to the darkness of her eyelids, bloodshot at they roll away from the world. Her fighting against his merciless force taking her life from her. 

"You are replaceable, everyone is. That's what they told me. That's what they said when they took her" His fist grew tighter with ever slow word to fall from him. "They took her, so I'll take you"

Something flew through the air, something sharp. Hitting him in the hand, resulting in another nasty outburst of roars and splattered words from the sin. 

"So, this is why you are the Sin of wraith. Not very composed, I see. How fitting" Static rung in the air as y/n took in as much oxygen the world around her could offer. Clutching her throat in agony. 

The same static got louder and louder from the life outside the building, till it stopped abruptly. The sense of inevitable danger weighed on satans shoulders, looking around in a panicked state for the source. 

"A lot more paranoid than I suspected.." A hand landed on his shoulder, and sunk its claws into him. The large figure swung round, landing an elbow in Alastor's face. Stunning him. 

Satan took a long second to compose himself of the almighty being in front of him, almost too big for the large ceilings. "Impressive" he put a hand over his shoulder, a flicker of light hitting him before the wound was swiftly removed. "But not that impressive".

The sin tripled in size in just a minute. Legs stretching out, and new ones forming from his torso. Face warping into another species, one that Alastor feared the most. A hellhound, Hades himself would be scared. The absence of skin, replaced by hard bone, gave Alastor a feeling of doubt. Yet, his will to win never making a mark on the sinister grin sprawled across his jaw.  

Strong brick and infrastructure of the warehouse began to crumble. Falling around y/n like heavy snow. She had little time to comprehend what was happening as she was pulled out from underneath a falling brick. She sat, confused, on a patch of grass on the outskirts of a forest. A familiar shadow floating next to her on the floor, giving her a sad smile. Gesturing for her to remain in her place, before flying back to his owner. 

Green and Purple hues floated atop the skyline, rocks flying for miles around her as the two beasts began their decent on one another. Primal echoes of their agony sent a wave of anxiety into confused citizens. Scared to see what the commotion was about. A symphony of raw power emitting from the two, clashing and crumbling buildings around their feet. 

Y/n swallowed her fear, and struggled to her feet. It was true, she had power unlike any other overlord. Gifted to her from a sin himself, maybe she wasn't the most powerful being in the universe. But anything could help Alastor win this battle. She took a deep breath, and let it out. Letting her form sink into the ground with a purple mist following her to her destination. Materializing a few meters away from no-mans-land.

Alastor nor Satan took any interest in her presence. Till the ground shook under their feet, and Violet radiance blinded them. Almost like a storm was brewing from the core of the Earth. Years of pent up aggression and frustration came out in a loud bellow, her form warping into what could only be described as a Phoenix. Her large, dragon like body emerged from the human flesh on her back, ripping and burning it to ashes. Fur mixed with dark scales on her winged being, reminding everyone she was still a being from hell. A large beak let out a god awful screech, gaining the attention from everyone in the pentagram, and deafening those too close. Her feathers Ebony and Royal purple, resembling flames the colour of a dawning sky. Ash settled at the talons that broke the concrete below her weight, ash from her former body. 

Everything froze, to admire the beautiful beast in their presence. Mistaken for a corrupt god. Satan would have been proud, if the circumstances were different. He fell backwards a few inches, his form seemingly shrinking. Barely noticeable. 

"Y/n?" Alastor's figure remained the same, but the look in his eyes returned as he looked over to the large beast next to him. A mix of adoration and fear overcoming him. Y/n dared to move her gaze to him, then back to the offender. Remaining silent like a titan. 

Her stance shifted, a foot coming forward with great force in an instant. Letting out another unnerving scream. 

"What in my fathers name is going on here?"

Everyone looked over to y/n. Who did her best attempt at a shrug with her bird shoulders. Eyes widened as she, too, looked around for the source of the voice. The three of them turned to see a small man, hanging in the air with his large wings. Anger painted on his scowl, and arms crossed like a disappointed father. 

"Down!" He shouted, like they were animals, as he pointed towards the floor. The three of the beats shares a confused and almost embarrassed look, as they hesitantly retook their position as an average hell being. Shrinking simultaneously to their previous sizes. 

"Lucifer! How good to see you aga-"

The small man landed in front of Satan, taking no second to strike him across the face. "What do you think you are doing in pride? Destroying my buildings? Scaring my sinners?"

The large man looked down on him with a saddened look, holding the red mark on his face. "I had business to tend to"

Lucifer let out a frustrated laugh as he gestured to the damage around them. "Ya call this business?" He laughed again, stuttering, and holding his temple firmly "I don't even know what to say. Go home!" He flashed him with his horns for a brief second before letting himself calm down. "We will be discussing this later... But a few of your souls are going to be conviscated!"

Y/n stood awkwardly next to Al, holding an arm with the other. The king of hell turned to the two after Wraith had disappeared from his sight like a toddler with a tantrum. "And you two..." His arms crossed again, looking them up and down. Leaning uncomfortably close to them. "I expect more from overlords of my ring."

"I apologies... You're majesty" Y/n inched closer to Alastor for comfort, who remained silent. Staring at the short man in his gaze. 

The king shook his head, mumbling to himself. "This just won't do" 

"Do you mind... getting my soul back?" 

He returned her question with a very unimpressed stare.

"For Lucifers sake... Alastor!" Y/n's voice echoed through the house like a siren in the deer's ears. 

"Yes, Mon Cheri?" He appeared behind her in the kitchen, startling her. He spun and wacked him lightly in the chest in retaliation. "What's wrong?" "You ate the last of the snacks? I was saving them for our movie night" Y/n pouted, holding up an empty box of wafers. 

"I did no such thing. I don't even enjoy those bland creations" He pretended to take offence, holding his heart.

"Well, who else would have eaten them?"

He grinned wider, staring at her with little to no expression before grabbing her arm. "We are going to be late for our broadcast, dear. Lets solve this mystery later" He began to drag her behind him. 

"I think it's already solved" She mumbled, keeping up with his pace.

After the long journey they had suffered together, the two decided to bring a sense of normality to their life's. Staring a new Broadcasting service for all the rings of hell to enjoy. Y/n and co-host. Her name going from the overlord of souls, to the overlord of media. For now, at least. . They did broadcasts 6 days of the week, updating hell on gossip or general news. Even being introduced to sinners who listened to their broadcasts in life. Growing their names, all over again. 

If you want to know what happened to Satan, Lucifer had him put in mandatory therapy for his anger issues. And for his problems surrounding grieving. But y/n's soul was returned to her by the king himself. Well... not so much returned as it was re-located to lucifers possession. Giving a soul back is a lot harder than it sounds. But the point it, it is in a safer place. Satan's Business has been put on hold, for now. Losing over 70% of his workers to lucifer, due to mental instability. Maybe he will rise to power again one day, but at least y/n no longer has to worry about it. 

"Good morning you foul sinners, and today me, and my wonderful co-host Alastor, are bringing you todays news!" 

"Thank you Y/n! Yes, today is already a day not to forget. Turf wars making their way through the east side of the pentagram with someone known as Sir Pentious!" Alastor chuckled "He doesn't seem to be doing so well!" 

The two laughed together. The static from the radio emitting from the small device in a kitchen. Electronic fingers reach out to turn the dial, turning the volume up as the chatter continued. A large figure was perched, listening intently to the noise. A bored expression on his face. "you too, won't be doing so well soon" The boredom shifted to an amused grin. Baring his electronic teeth on his flat face. Static emitting from his body like a circuit.  Vox gave a knowing look towards his small radio. 

[shavirlight]

IWTV Fic Masterpost

From most to least recent. Make sure to carefully read the tags as well as the warnings for the relevant fics, and proceed at your own discretion. Will be adding to this list as I post more fic <3 You can now also read my Louis/Lestat fics in chronological order.

Surrender and Win | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 4.0k)

It’s difficult to remember when the last time Lestat had the upper hand over him like this was. There is something to the struggle, though, to the merciless push and pull that Louis finds he craves, and it feels good to be defeated at times. Lestat is a ruthless opponent, and to surrender to him can be its own form of release, but—Louis has never begged for it. He cannot. Fortunately, he’ll never need to. At the height of Louis and Lestat's "casual" arrangement, a power struggle ensues.

Dwell Where You Are Safe | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 5.1k)

Louis is a man of infuriating, addictive contradictions. Lestat had thought that following his and Claudia’s calamitous chess game, he would grow cold to him. Inexplicably, it seems to have produced the opposite effect. Or: after the chess game, Lestat struggles to make sense of his lover’s sudden, overwhelming lust.

Perpetual 1908 | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 6.3k)

This is a new side of Lestat, one that accepts Louis’ rule and lets himself be guided by his hand. There is a longing in him, a need for release from his own impulses, from his own sense of control. Has Paris done this to him, as well? Filled him with too many sorrows for keeping, made him crave a departure from his own mind? Louis buys Lestat a watch. The gift is well-received.

Five Memories in the Vaults of Your Mind | Armand/Louis (mature, 6.9k)

There are things in Armand’s past, people and moments and long stretches of times, years, decades—that he would not have objected to forgetting. If a benevolent being came along and offered to erase them for him, to blur the feelings that came with their memories, offered to take it all away and cradle Armand’s mind in its loving palm… he would have fallen to his knees and wept with relief.  Or: five things Louis would like to forget.

Haul Away Together | Louis/Lestat, Louis/The Sailor (explicit, 5.7k, warning: noncon elements with the sailor)

It’s like something pulled directly from Louis’ teenage mind; the bright, muscular sailor, ruddy with arousal as he shrugs off his shirt with easy confidence. Louis wonders if Lestat knew, somehow, of this forgotten fantasy of his youth. If it’s part of why it seems to be coming true, now. Three nights after Louis is turned, Lestat brings home a gift.

Words On Screen | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 6.9k)

It’s a text from Lestat, with an image attached. He does that sometimes, sends Louis pictures of things he thinks he would enjoy, though the vast majority of them are painfully pedestrian; a statue from the 18th century, a lamp had Lestat bought for his apartment, a man on the street with a pet parrot—on one occasion, a picture of a tree. Lestat claimed he ‘thought Louis would appreciate its unique Byzantine shape’.

Really, the pictures themselves are meaningless—they function, utterly transparently, as excuses to contact Louis. Little digital lures, meant to pull him into Lestat’s orbit once more. This is a sexting fic.

See / Exit | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 8.7k)

Louis is living for himself—which means doing what he wants, and being honest about what it is. So what if he flew across the world, attended Lestat’s concert, got hot and bothered watching him perform and waited for him in his dressing room? So what if upon seeing Lestat, he immediately went to his knees to give him a blowjob so dirty he thought he might come just from giving it? It’s not a big deal. At least, it doesn’t have to be. Or: five times Louis waits for Lestat in his dressing room, and one time Lestat is already there.

Burrow | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 8.7k, warning: dubcon)

Louis is tired a lot, these days. Lestat watches as he hunts human, makes sure he stays well-nourished and full, and so he knows that isn’t the reason. A voice from within him, a cruel one, wants to whisper to him—but Lestat banishes it from his mind. He will simply have to work harder, tonight, to rouse his beloved – a small challenge like this shouldn’t deter. Lestat will have him hard and begging in no time. Since their reconciliation, Louis has become more agreeable. Maybe too agreeable.

the body, not in stasis | Daniel/Louis, (explicit, 1.9k)

“The need to cares for your body is, in part, what tethers you to it. It’s a reminder, Daniel—that you are flesh and blood. That you are a human being,” Louis insists, in his usual verbose fashion, and Daniel can’t help but laugh as he turns to leave. “Well, you’re welcome to come watch, if it’s so magical to you,” he says.

Want and Swallow and Keep | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 10.7k, warning: dubcon)

Love, sex, possession. To Lestat, they’re all the same thing. So this could be perfect; Louis could decide what they do, control Lestat’s actions. He could make Lestat work for it, earn Louis’ trust again by way of obedience. Louis could restrain him from doing something—something bad.

Of Mercy, With Choice | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 6.2k)

“I always thought that your victims were truly fortunate, to be gifted with such an exhilarating death,” Lestat says, tangled in the messy sheets. “What bliss it must have been, to be killed by one so beautiful.” Louis and Lestat play at a fantasy. It gets a bit out of hand.

A Chill That Follows | Louis/Armand/Dreamstat (explicit, 4.9k)

Armand wants him, wants him bad—is willing to go against the coven to hold him. Louis can work with that, he’s good at figuring out which buttons to push, how to get what he needs. And this is what he needs right now; to feel a man’s touch after going without for so long. He wants Armand, too. Louis lets Armand in. Or at least, he tries to. There's a complication.

To Make a Real Home | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 5.4k, warning: dubcon)

Louis is hovering a few steps behind him as he tucks the girl in, as gently as he can—she needs to heal, and it will likely take some time. Lestat can feel Louis’ gaze on his back, can feel the anxiety radiating from him as he watches from a distance, stock-still as if afraid to disturb the ritual taking place in front of him. It makes Lestat feel cold. Emotions run high in the aftermath of Claudia's turning.

And the Knowing Is Sweet, Too | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 6.6k)

For his own peace of mind, Louis had to get Lestat out of that miserable shack. He rented him a fully furnished apartment not too far from Rue Royale, then purchased a new, elegant coffin for him to sleep in. Next, a modern wardrobe to help him blend in with the mortals. And finally, he bought him a piano—a nice one, too. He assured Lestat that it was all a loan, just until he got his finances in order. The piano, though, was a gift. And now it was time for Louis to go home.

See What Happens | Daniel/Louis, (explicit, 6.3k)

So this is happening. This extremely stupid, thrilling professional and personal mistake that he’s making with the 100-year-old serial killer he’s supposed to be interviewing. Daniel steels himself – it’s happening, and he’s in it, and there’s no point in turning back now. He has to see where it goes. Daniel stumbles into a game he doesn't understand.

New Ways for Old Things | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 3.8k, warning: this fic is old)

Louis is sure that the burns are painful, but Lestat’s reactions seem to indicate something beyond a simple physical thrill. It’s as if this old game is unveiling a brand new side of them.

Seek His Face and Turn | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 2.8k, warning: dubcon, and this fic is also old)

Louis can’t help but feel that nothing has truly changed. Lestat is simply humouring his latest whim, to play the overpowering predator to Lestat’s helpless victim in some mockery of a payback. Every night Louis berates himself for participating in this charade, and every morning he falls asleep in Lestat’s arms, spent and resigned. It’s never truly what he wants it to be, anyway, and it’s only a matter of time before this new game loses its novelty. After taking Lestat back, Louis bargains.

[daisynik7]

Rush

Chapter 8: Do I Wanna Know?

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spitting, daddy kink, vaginal sex (mating press), heavy on the angst this chapter

Summary: After the events of Halloween, you finally start questioning your relationship with Eren. Meanwhile, he attempts to do some damage control to keep both you and his reputation in check, ultimately resulting in more damage. 

Notes: Song is "Do I Wanna Know" by the Arctic Monkeys

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The Sunday night after Halloween, Alpha Tau gathers upstairs in the fraternity house for their weekly chapter meeting. Tonight, Levi makes a particularly interesting announcement. 

“In about two weeks, Alpha Tau will be hosting its annual fall formal. For you pledges that aren’t familiar with this yet, formal is a special event that happens each semester. It’s essentially a dance. There will be a DJ, dancefloor, photo booth. In addition, dinner will be provided. Luckily, because of our clean record so far this semester, thanks to our partnership with Sigma Nu Kappa, the Student Affairs Committee has approved us having an overnight formal. Meaning we will be renting out a hotel for the night.” 

Most of the seniors cheer loudly at the last part, especially Mike. Eren clenches his fist, the memory of the other night still fresh in his mind. He can’t stand the guy, especially knowing he had his fingers in that beautiful body he’s made claim to. He’s not one to be possessive, but with her, he can’t help it.

Levi continues. “The cost of formal is already included in your membership fees, so I highly encourage every brother to attend. Also, each of you is allowed one guest. This can be anyone: a friend, girlfriend, boyfriend, whoever. If you plan to bring a date, make sure you get their signature on the sign-up form. I’ll be handing these out at the end of chapter. Please get these to me by next Sunday.”

Reiner turns around to face Eren. “Got a girl in mind you want to ask?”

He shrugs. “Not really.”

It’s a bold face lie. As soon as Levi mentioned a guest, he immediately thought of her. Her all glammed up in a gorgeous dress, them grinding against each other on the dancefloor, making love in their hotel room when the night is over. 

He allows himself to fantasize about it for a minute before coming back to reality. 

As much as he’d like to ask her to be his date, he can’t. As easy as it would be to just be with her, he won’t. He justifies it to “not being ready”. Asking her to be his date is another level of commitment that he’s not willing to step into yet. He needs time. This is what he’s convinced himself of. 

The more time he spends with her, he finds himself forgetting why this relationship has to be so goddamn difficult. It’s on him; he knows that. His reasons are selfish and immature. Not being ready for commitment. Caring too much about his reputation, which isn’t all that great anyways. It’s all bullshit excuses at the end of the day. 

Eren doesn’t want to fall in love. He’s afraid. Afraid of being vulnerable, afraid of getting hurt. Being in love complicates everything. He enjoys being free, unshackled, able to do what he pleases. Responsible only for himself and nobody else. Allowed to fuck up as many times as he can without repercussions. Because he will fuck up. He’s young, dumb, and selfish. Why burden anyone with his flaws? 

But when he’s with her, he’s happy. In a way, he still feels free. Weightless, liberated, unbound. As if a whole new world has been opened up to him, as cliché as that sounds. She makes him feel worthy, makes him feel loved. 

And that’s what scares him the most. 

It’s not love. How can it be? Aside from the amazing sex, what do they really know about each other? Eren has done his best to avoid revealing anything about himself. She’s kept a similar guard, probably just as afraid as he is. 

It’s lust. That’s all it is. That’s what he keeps telling himself.

He wishes he had met her in a different time in his life. Maybe after he’s gotten all this dumb, frat boy energy out of his system. It would be easier for them. It would be different. Better. 

He knows what he needs to do eventually. He has to end it with her before it gets too serious. Their time together on Halloween night felt different. He exposed himself, revealed a little too much of his feelings.

She’ll never leave him; he’ll string her along until the time is right. He’ll continue to drag this out as much as he possibly can. Continue telling her what she wants to hear, getting away with his sins until he decides it’s time to move on.

He’s got it all under his control. 

“You should bring that girl Pieck,” Reiner suggests, snapping Eren out of his thoughts. “Bertolt is thinking about asking another Delta Mu also.”

Eren shrugs again, unsure how else to respond. His big brother turns back around to face the front as Erwin makes his closing statements, ending chapter. 

On the way out of the meeting, Armin nudges him. “Who are you really thinking of taking to formal?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just because Reiner is telling you who to bring, doesn’t mean you have to take them. Isn’t there anyone else you’d like to ask?”

He doesn’t answer right away, tempted to be honest with his best friend. However, Eren is still a coward that won’t admit to anything that shows off a sign of weakness.

“I think I will ask Pieck. I hung out with her on Halloween. She’s cool.” Wanting to take the focus off him, he asks, “Who are you going to take?”

“I’m going to ask Annie,” Armin states confidently. 

“Annie? Really?”

“Yes, I like her. We have fun together,” he explains, smiling. 

Eren can’t help being envious at how easy it is for Armin to confess his feelings. Again, he questions himself why he’s making his own relationship more difficult than it needs to be. 

On their way to their dormitory, Eren gets a text message:

Mikasa is sleeping over at Jean’s tonight.

Without a second thought, Eren lies to his roommate. “I’m going to the library for a couple of hours. I forgot I have a paper due in a few days for Pyxis.”

“Oh, okay. Good luck. I’ll see you later.”

Eren turns to the direction of the library until he’s out of Armin’s line of sight. A few minutes later, he’s outside another familiar dorm building. There’s a mixture of excitement and anxiety as he waits for her to come down. They haven’t talked since that night. He abandoned her when they were caught by Hitch and Annie. In that moment, he panicked. Instead of explaining himself like any normal, mature person would, he fled the scene, hoping she would be able to fix whatever mess they created. 

She’s in sweats when she opens the door, motioning him to come in. Even in this outfit, his heart flutters at the sight of her. 

“Hey,” he greets her, a small grin on his lips. 

“Hi.” She returns his smile with her own. Warm and bright as ever. 

It would be so easy. So easy to be together, Eren repeats in his head, as he follows her upstairs. 

~~~

Up in your room, as soon as the door is closed, he steps towards you with both hands on your cheeks, kissing you passionately. Your lips smack together, tongues sliding in and around each other’s mouths, hands pressed against his chest. You kiss like this for a minute, your pulse beating fast under your skin.

He breaks away, foreheads touching, noses nuzzling. “Hi,” he whispers. 

You smile. “Hi.”

You get onto the bed and lie besides each other, his arms wrapped around your body. “How are you?” He gives you a smooch on your forehead. 

“I’m fine. Chapter meeting was quick. How about you?”

“Same. Uneventful, as always.” He squeezes you tighter in his embrace. “I’m sorry about Friday night. For running off.”

You’ve had nearly two days to digest all that happened that night and how it plays into your current situation. The rollercoaster of emotions, beginning with denial, peaking at anger, and halting at shame, is causing you to spiral. You spent hours Saturday morning, lying in bed, refusing to accept that Annie is absolutely correct: you do deserve better. You are better than this. And when the realization finally hits you like a bag of bricks, the rest of your Saturday is wasted pacing around campus, letting off steam caused by this newfound contempt for Eren Jaeger. The blatant disrespect from him that you so fervently overlooked is impossible to deny any longer. 

This leads you into Sunday, when the guilt of how you failed yourself starts to consume you. The burden of realizing that you got yourself into this mess weighs heavy on your chest; the burden to escape it weighs even heavier. 

Yet, you lie here with him on Sunday night, wishing for a sign of redemption. Anything to prove that all this was worth it. That it still is worth it. Holding out hope for some type of forlorn act of love. 

He clears his throat. “I freaked out when I saw them. I didn’t know what to do, so I just ran. I’m sorry.”

You stay silent, waiting for any additional explanation, maybe a more valid reason for ditching you. Nothing else comes out of it. Eventually, he clears his throat again, obviously uncomfortable, asking, “So, what did you end of telling them?”

You choose to leave out the details of what Annie said. It’s not the right time. You don’t want to confess to him that it’s been eating away at you for the past two days. Not yet. “I told them that we’re hooking up.”

“Did they have anything to say to that?”

“Not really. They were just surprised.”

He chuckles. “Annie isn’t necessarily the biggest fan of me, so I’m sure she’s secretly upset about it.”

She did not keep it a secret at all, you think to yourself, remembering her disgust very clearly.

“They’re not going to tell anybody, are they?”

“No. They’re my friends. They’re not going to say anything.”

“Good.” His relief doesn’t bring you comfort. Rather, it causes you more stress. He’s so desperate to keep you a secret, and for what? To save face? Protect a reputation that barely exists in the first place?

“Would it be so bad? If people know? What’s the big deal?” You’re already preparing yourself for a disappointing answer. 

Before he replies, he reaches his fingers down to your chin to tilt your head up. “I want to be with you, okay? I just need time.”

“Time?”

“Yeah, to get used to this. I’m not really a relationship or commitment person. This is all new to me. Just give me time. I promise you. It’ll all be alright.” His eyes look earnest. Honest. Sweet. 

The trouble with Eren Jaeger is that he is a master at his craft. Manipulating a situation to go his way is a skill that no one can compete with him in. And it’s taken you several weeks to recognize how easily you fall for it. 

You leave it at that, tired of hearing excuses, exhausted of empty promises. You start kissing him, palming his cock until it’s hard beneath his pants. This is how it always ends up with you two. This is the only thing you’re good for. 

A few minutes later, you’re both naked, you on your back, thighs spread open as he eats you out, pumping his fingers inside you. You’re the same obedient girl that gave your virginity to him. Allowed him to defile you, to ruin you. It’s what you wanted, what you fantasized about. And now you are dealing with the consequences. Picking up the pieces that you willingly let him destroy.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl. Such a good girl for daddy,” he hums, flicking his tongue over your clit, middle and ring finger working overtime in and out of your cunt. 

You allow the ecstasy to smother you, because the only way to feel good with Eren is like this. He doesn’t have to know that your mind is filled with doubts, regret, insecurity. And, as he sends you into your first orgasm of the night, you temporarily forget about all the imperfections in this shady relationship. You let the lust and pleasure justify why you’re still here in bed with him. 

When you come all over his fingers, he doesn’t stop. He keeps going until his digits are wet, shiny, and sticky with your slick. He sucks on your clit until it’s swollen and sensitive. Until you’re whimpering with tears rolling down the sides of your face. Until he’s had your fill of you, and you’ve given him all that you can offer. 

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out of you and slides his hard cock up and down your arousal, spreading your cum over your clit. You hear the click of the lube bottle, the soft squelch of oil being rubbed on his shaft, the gravely moan resounding from his throat. 

“Are you ready, baby?” 

“Yes,” you breathe out.

He kneels in front of you, positioned between your legs. His cock glides into your sleek pussy easily, eliciting a low moan from his mouth as he bottoms out. He thrusts into you slowly, spreading your thighs out wider for a better angle. He watches you swallow his entire length, a satisfied smile forming at his lips, as he continues to penetrate your sloppy cunt. 

“Fuck, baby. Look at you. You’re beautiful.” His eyes drift up to meet your gaze. You try to suppress the flutter in your belly, reminding yourself that he only says this when you’re beneath him, surrounding his cock. Giving him what he wants.

“Take this cock, take this fucking cock. Good girl, good fucking girl,” he growls, sliding his hands under your thighs and pushing your knees closer to your chest. He has you in a fucking mating press, pounding your G-spot ruthlessly, determined to milk you dry. 

“Fuck!” you cry out, fists clenching the sheets, eyes shut tight as he drills you into the bed, completely lost in the heat of passion. You hear him spit twice, his saliva trickling onto your puffy clit. Suddenly, his fingers are on you, stimulating your messy bud smeared in his drool. The sensation overtakes you. Soon, you’re coming once more all over his cock, pussy throbbing around him.

“I want to fill you up, baby. Fill you up with my fucking load,” he moans. Both his hands are holding onto your legs, pushing them towards your shoulders into a goddamn yoga pose. Your cunt is so wet, you’re worried he’ll slip out any second. 

He orgasms inside you, groaning as he comes down from his high. “Fuck, baby. Wish I could take a picture of this.” He pulls out to marvel at your drenched pussy, biting his lower lip. 

Turning your head to the side, you stare blankly at the wall of your bedroom, brought back to reality. Nothing has changed. He’s still the same Eren. Your body feels good, spent and satiated, as it usually does when he’s finished with you. Your mind, however, is focused on all the problems that remain. 

He chuckles, crawling next to you, asking, “You okay?” Completely unaware of the turmoil taking over your mind. 

You nod, staying silent as you sit up, ready to make your usual post-coital trip to the bathroom. His hand grips at your wrist. “Hey. Baby. Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just have to pee,” you tell him. Not yet. It’s still not the right time.

“Okay,” he relents, loosening his hold on you. 

You slide into your pajamas, avoiding his gaze. From the corner of your eye, you see him looking at you with a worried expression. Does he actually care?

As you exit your bedroom, anxiety creeps into your chest. It feels like the calm before the storm. 

Sometime soon, you’re going to crack. The burden of it all is going to break you, cause you to snap. Unleash the hell that’s burning in your fragile soul.

Not tonight, not in this moment. But soon. 

You’ll finally be free.

~~~

The days pass and Eren’s timeline for turning his sign-up form is dwindling. He’s been debating with himself all week about how he should proceed with this. 

Thursday night, the brothers of Alpha Tau eat dinner together in the dining room. Those that live in the house are prepared food everyday by their house chef. Pledges are allowed two meals a week, free of charge, as long as an active brother signs them up as their guest. Tonight, Reiner invites him to eat with them. 

“Have you asked Pieck to formal yet?” Reiner shoves a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth, waiting for a response.

“I haven’t,” he replies, taking a bite out of the meatloaf on his plate. He knew this was going to come up eventually. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” In a hushed voice, he leans in closer and urges, “Just don’t take a Sigma Nu Kappa. Anyone but them. A lot of brothers are already taking them. We need to add some hot girls in there or else we’ll be the laughingstock to the rest of the frats.”

It’s a ridiculous statement. Truly. Reiner is an idiot. Apparently so is Eren for going along with everything he commands. 

“I don’t even know how to get a hold of her. I only met her at the Halloween party.”

“Ask Bertolt to help you out. He’s taking another Delta Mu sister. She can let Pieck know you’re interested.”

Eren has been procrastinating doing this on purpose. Once he asks Pieck to the dance, he has no other choice but to break the news to her. He’s nervous for how she’ll react; she’ll probably come up with some smartass comment to make him feel guilty. She never stays mad at him, though. Never. He has her wrapped around his finger, and he shamelessly takes advantage of that. 

“Fine. I’ll ask Bertolt to help me set it up.” 

Reiner pats his back. “Don’t forget to sign up for a room with a single bed. I’m sure you’ll be using it.” He gives you a cocky smirk, going back to scarf down his meal. 

Eren hangs out on the couch after dinner, digesting. He checks his phone frequently, waiting for any type of text inviting him over. He hasn’t talked to her since Monday morning, when he whispered a soft “good morning” as he crawled out of bed to get ready for the day. Even though they spent the night together, she didn’t say much. Usually, they chat with each other before drifting off to sleep. She was much quieter on Sunday, only nodding along and providing short responses as he babbled on and on. He attributes it to exhaustion from the amazing sex, Eren finally trying a position he’s been fantasizing about doing with her.

On his way out of the house to retreat to his dorm room for the night, he spots Annie walking out of the Sigma Nu Kappa house. “Jaeger,” she calls out, before he can avert her.

Reluctantly, he turns to face her. “Hey.”

“Come here for a second. I want to talk to you.” Her expression is the typical scowl she wears whenever she sees him. He wonders if she’s typically like this with others or if this frown is specifically reserved for him. 

“What do you want?” 

She sizes him up, eyes narrowed. “Geez, what’s with the attitude?”

“What do you want?” he repeats, already losing his patience.

She twirls a strand a hair between her fingers. “Armin asked me to formal.”

“Yeah, he told me he was going to ask you.” He still can’t fathom how his best friend, who is a gentle teddy bear, plans to attend a dance with someone as callous and deadpan as Annie. Then again, he hasn’t been spending much time with Armin to discuss this recent development. 

“So, when are you going to ask her? I heard the deadline is on Sunday. It’s already Thursday.”

Eren plays dumb, placing his hands in his pockets and shrugging. He doesn’t owe anyone, especially Annie Leonhart, an explanation. 

She glares at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you doing? She’s a nice girl. Why are you messing around with her like this?”

The accusation irritates him. Defensively, he responds, “I’m not messing around with her, okay? And I know she’s a nice girl. Why do you think I keep her around?” 

Her eyes get narrower, scrutinizing him. “She’s not a plaything, Jaeger. She’s a human being.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that.” 

“Do you even know how she feels about you?” 

There’s a growing guilt building in his chest as he tries to remain unbothered by this hostile confrontation. He keeps silent, unsure how to react. Truth be told, he doesn’t want to know. Knowing will only make it more difficult for him to let go. To move on. 

She scoffs. “You’re pathetic.”

“And you’re nosy,” he spits out. “What the hell did you tell her anyways? She’s been really distant lately. Hasn’t been talking to me much.”

A small smirk forms on her face. “I told her the truth. Told her what she needed to hear.”

“What does that mean?”

“If you don’t know, then you really are hopeless.”

Eren rolls his eyes, having had enough of this conversation. This is typical Eren. When he’s put in a tough situation, he walks away. Sometimes runs. He turns away from her, not at all interested in being harassed any further. 

Before he moves, she warns, “There are a lot of people who care about her. If you hurt her, you will be reminded every day of how badly you fucked up.”

It sounds like a threat. With Annie, it probably is. 

Without facing her, he says, “I care about her too, Annie.” His voice is soft, maybe even a little vulnerable. Admitting it out loud is unusual; he’s surprised to hear his own mouth utter these words. 

“Then act like it. I thought you didn’t let other people influence how you think or feel. Remember you told me that? Don’t let Reiner influence your decisions. Believe it or not, I at least have more respect for you than him. Don’t be a disappointment.”

With that, he makes his way back to his dorm room, Annie’s words sticking to his mind no matter how hard he tries to disregard them. She’s right; he knows what he’s doing is wrong.

Don’t be a disappointment.

It’s too late for that. 

~~~

Friday night, Sigma Nu Kappa hosts their monthly pizza night. The sisters gather in the kitchen, assembling their personalized pies, handing them over to their chef who bakes them in a portable wood-fired oven. During these special nights, all sisters, whether they live in the house or not, are allowed to participate. 

Hange, who always tries to make the smelliest pizza possible, topped with anchovies, olives, onions, and garlic, is regulated in the corner of the room, eating her meal alone with a twisted smile on her face. Petra, Nanabe, and the other seniors talk amongst themselves as they munch on their dinner, discussing upperclassmen topics unrelated to the rest of the sisters. 

You eat with Mikasa, Annie, and Sasha on the couch, watching a comedy movie on TV. After some idle gossip, Sasha brings up a topic that catches you off guard. 

“Who else is going to Alpha Tau’s formal, besides Mikasa and Hitch?”

“Hey, I haven’t been formally asked by Jean yet. He wants to do it after a nice dinner tomorrow, bless his heart,” Mikasa explains, a sweet smile on her face. “Who’s taking Hitch?”

“Connie!” Sasha answers, proudly. “I set it up. Just call me Cupid.”

“Armin asked me. And I said yes,” Annie mentions in a quiet voice, blushing.

“Armin?! Oooh la la, Annie!” Sasha teases, resulting in a firm punch to her arm.

You notice Annie glancing at you, imploring some sort of comment. 

“I didn’t even know Alpha Tau is having a formal,” you say. Eren hasn’t mentioned it all week. In fact, he’s barely contacted you since Monday morning, when he kissed you goodbye before leaving for his morning class. In his defense, you haven’t made any effort to reach out to him either. You can’t help but wonder if he’s planning to ask you eventually. There’s still that glimmer of hope you’re holding out for him, despite how fast it’s dwindling.    

Annie glares, clearly upset. However, she doesn’t say anything, still adhering to her vow of silence in regard to your secret. 

“Mike is probably going to ask you,” Mikasa mentions, smirking. She found out about your little fling with Mike on Halloween and has been pestering you about it since.

You return her smile. “Maybe.” 

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind going to formal with Mike. After that night, you still consider him a friend. The few times you’ve passed by him this week, he’s acted normally, greeting you with that handsome grin that he wears so confidently. If you weren’t so fucked up in the head by Eren, you could definitely see yourself falling for Mike, the way he deserves. The way both of you deserve.

Instead, here you are. Still wishing more than anything that Eren asks you to this formal. Setting your expectations so high, you can barely see the top. It’s laughable. It’s pathetic.

You spend the rest of the night at the house, watching another movie snuggled next to your sisters as you all share a big bowl of popcorn. Mikasa leaves before you, heading to Jean’s for the night. Instinctually, you reach for your phone, ready to text Eren. Before you can, Annie nudges you. 

“Hey. Let’s walk back together. I want to talk to you.”

The two of you leave the house, slowly making your way towards the dorms. You’re concerned about what she wants to tell you, anticipating it has something to do with Eren. “What is it, Annie?”

She sighs, staring down at the ground as you both take your time walking. “I’m just going to say it, okay?”

You nod, eyebrows knit together with worry. Anxious for another truth bomb she’s sure to drop in this moment.

“I don’t think Eren is going to ask you to formal.”

It’s inevitable; your heart falls. The sinking sensation dwelling in the pit of your stomach slows down your steps, as if gravity is pulling you towards the ground. “How do you know?”

“I ran into him last night. I asked him and he didn’t give a straightforward answer.”

“Oh,” is all you can mutter as you process this information.  

“Also, I overheard something.” She pauses, debating if she should continue.

“Annie,” you urge her, desperate for the truth.

She gulps loudly, admitting, “I heard he’s taking someone from Delta Mu.”

There’s a cluster of emotions rushing through your head. He’d rather take anyone else besides you, the girl he’s been fucking the past couple of weeks. He was on his goddamn knees just a week ago, begging to have you. Granting whatever wish you desired to nestle himself inside your body, the one you offered him on the fateful night that initiated it all. 

You’re as much to blame as he is, falling for his tricks. For that low voice that can lull you into a trance and manipulate you into submission. Those compelling eyes that dazzle you, hiding the true nature of his cold, frigid heart. 

While your feelings for him have always been true, there are far too many red flags now to ignore, to make excuses for. Time and time again, you’ve let the waves of pleasure purify the sins of your messy relationship, if only for a short while at a time. Not anymore. This is the final straw. 

Now, you want revenge. To hurt him the same way he’s hurt you. Pull the rug out from under him like he’s done to you in the past. Make him feel something. It may sound cruel and petty, but you don’t care. For the first time since it started, you have clarity. 

“Are you okay?” Annie asks.

“I don’t know. But I think I’m starting to see things more clearly now.”

She gives you a small smile. “That’s good to hear.”

After dropping her off to her building, you head to your room, alone. Repulsed by the idea of inviting Eren over with this new information swimming around in your head. Coincidentally, your phone rings, flashing his name across the screen. 

“Hello?” you answer, attempting to keep your cool. 

“Hey,” he greets, his gruff voice taking a different effect on you now. “How are you?” 

“I’m okay.” You keep your responses short. Not in the mood for the typical pleasantries of a phone conversation. 

You hear a sense of trepidation in his voice, as he says, “So, not sure if you’ve heard already, but there’s this formal coming up for Alpha Tau.”

“Yeah, I heard.” 

You hear him clear his throat, nervous. “I’m going to take Pieck. From Delta Mu.”

Gut punch. Annie prepared you for this, but to hear it from his own voice doesn’t soften the blow. 

Before you can respond, he continues. “It doesn’t mean anything. Reiner told me to take her, so I am.”

He’s a coward. A fucking coward. Always abiding to what his big brother demands him to do, for no good reason. And you’re a fool for letting it go this far. 

“Okay.” 

“Are you mad? It’s just formal. It’s not like I’m dating her or anything. I won’t even dance with her if it makes you happy.” The audacity he has to justify it, to make it seem like what he’s doing is no big deal. It takes all your willpower not to scream into the phone. 

“If you really want to make me happy, you’d ask me to go with you, instead of some other girl,” you state.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re not supposed to be seen together yet. I’m not ready.” Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

“So, it’s okay to be seen with a Delta Mu, but not with me?” you challenge him, anger seeping through your voice. 

“It’s not like that. Just give me some more time, okay? I just need more time.”

Officially fed up, you quickly say, “Yeah, okay. Got it. Have fun at formal.” You hang up, not waiting for a response. 

Time. You’re sick of hearing this. He uses it as if it’s the magic word that erases all your problems, an excuse to prolong your suffering. You’re not even sure what he needs time for. Does he need it to get over his own insecurities? To grow up and make adult decisions? To realize he cares about you? Regardless, his time is running out.  He didn’t even have the decency to tell you any of this in person. It was all through a fucking phone call. 

Eren Jaeger truly is a coward. The biggest coward of them all.

Your limit has been reached. This is your breaking point. 

 You know what you have to do. 

----------

End Notes: We’re nearing the end, folks! I have three more chapters planned, plus an epilogue. Thank you again for those who have read, commented, liked, and reblogged any or all parts of this so far! 

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[zombiequeenblog]

I often wonder about the first time Copia saw Mouse. How he perceived her and chose to be his. What was it about her, in a Ministry full of Sisters and Brothers who would willingly give themselves to him for passion and lust? Why her? What did she have that he wanted?

Thank you for your lovely ask! You've inspired me to write the following, and I hope you enjoy:

It's here on ao3 if you'd prefer...

The first time he saw her, he nearly didn’t. Merely a glimpse of a pale face framed by darker hair, disappearing with a faint step around a dim corner, quiet as a church mouse. In his many years coming and going from here, he had heard many tales of the abbey’s resident ghosts (primarily from Terzo), but never had he actually perceived anything among the cloistered halls. Well, of course not.. what utter nonsense!

The Cardinal was on his way to his own unwelcoming haunt. Walking briskly through older passageways lit only the more poorly as he went, he stalked his own solitude as usual. A long night of his own dark interests awaited him; thoughts he kept to himself, and deeds unwitnessed by any. He sought his own time and pleasure down here, alone and unbothered just as he preferred, and yet… the sound of that little scuttling step seemed to echo within his mind. It was odd.

The second time he came upon her slight form was as he walked by in a dim and musty hallway, almost stepping on her honestly as she was kneeling, his monk straps ultimately skirting by unconcerned. She didn’t even look up. Quietly, he ascended a staircase just above, where he could pause and observe in secret her little toiling. She was real, then, but who was this little creature?

Racking his brain for only a minute, he recalled Sister Imperator mentioning a recent hire. She wasn’t a new convert then, which was obvious from her lack of habit. No, she was dressed like some kind of a maid, rather inconveniently it seemed, by the way she idly pulled down the hem of her short skirt as she carefully shuffled along on her knees, apparently scrubbing the hall baseboards with great concentration. The Cardinal shook his head a little, Sister had an archaic passion for old-fashioned dress to match the institution. Not that he really objected, mind you… it gave him a certain dignity to don the gloves and such, a power he found much pleasure in. His gaze lingered, finding pleasure in this unsuspecting domestic as well. The sleeves of her button-down were rolled up to expose delicate wrists, her dainty ankles hidden from his gaze in knee-high stockings. The sight of her body, done up so primly yet left vulnerable in the trappings of troublesome clothes just to look pretty, did something to him.

The Cardinal was a quiet admirer of beauty, and she appeared to be beautiful in a quiet way. Solitary and sweet, far too young for him if he were being proper, but he was far from proper, wasn’t he? No one knew the terrible things which brewed darkly within him, had always brewed… stronger and stronger. He stared at her pert little ass for a moment, and wondered what her panties looked like; he could have seen if she wasn’t pressing her thighs together so tightly. Vexing little thing. 

Someone was coming down the hallway towards her, and the Cardinal slunk back into the shadows for some reason. His natural reaction annoyed him; why should he feel guilty standing in his own damn home, leering at the help? 

It was Papa Secondo, and Copia stayed unnoticed where he was. Secondo stopped beside her, watching grimly, and when she felt sufficiently self-conscious she sat back on her haunches, her fine hair almost tumbling out of its precarious knot. 

“Well hello, girl.”

“Oh! Your… um… Excellency! My… my apologies…” The dulcet tones of her voice matched the rest of her, and Copia strained his ears to hear more of it.

“Quite alright, dear,” said Secondo, “I can see you’re busy, but I thought I might suggest…” He cocked his bald head down towards the scrub-brush in her hands. “Push along the grain of the board, it’s easier on the caulking, you know…”

The girl looked down at her task for a moment, and nodded her head. “Yes. Yes, of course, Your Excellency… Th… thank you!” Copia felt his gloved fingers twitching, an urge to pull the ribbon out of her hair almost taking him over.

“You’re welcome, dear.” Secondo continued on his way down the hall, and the girl went back to her work, altering her technique. 

Copia rolled his eyes; the old man was simply being supercilious. Who gave a fuck how the baseboards were cleaned? He continued to watch the girl for a minute, and when she fancied herself alone again, he noticed her pointedly go back to her previous scrubbing motion. Copia felt a little grin wash over his face; she had some spirit inside her, apparently. He liked that. 

The Cardinal continued to watch her in silence, enjoying perhaps too much the sight of her on all fours, her skirt continuing to ride up to his dark appreciation. She worked so quietly, was so quiet, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to provoke her to noise… a sweet cry or scream. She looked like she had many screams inside her.

Suddenly, stopping her motion abruptly, the girl reeled back and stiffened, holding her hand up with a faint cry. “Damn it…” he heard her exclaim, softly. She squeezed the side of her palm with her other hand, rocking back and forth for a second, and he could see a thin trickle of blood running down her wrist, even in the dim light. Poor little thing, but she didn’t even cry! He wondered if he could make her cry. 

The girl let out a little moan, sweeter than he could have even hoped for, and the Cardinal felt something less sweet stirring deep inside him. For a moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to rush forward, and subject the girl to a further kind of violence he had never indulged in before. 

Restraining himself, he stayed in the shadows, and watched her kneel there, biting her sweet lip for a moment as she looked upwards into the dull hallway light, finally breathing out her pain with a little sigh he wished he could capture. She couldn’t see him, thankfully, couldn’t see how the Cardinal stiffened his body against the wall, another part of him stiffening in such a way that he knew he’d have to relieve promptly, by himself in private. He stared at her, imagining ways he could make her do it. Force her to take him. Copia bit his own lip; she was fairly vexing, wasn’t she? And entirely unaware of it. Perhaps that was a part of her quiet charm.

With the way his intense gaze was fixed upon her, perhaps it wasn’t so strange when she finally glanced behind her shoulder with a slight shiver. Did she believe in dark things lurking in the shadows? He thrilled to see her uneasiness, the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Eventually, she gathered her things and left, stealing quietly away down the darkened hall, a ghost herself, and the Cardinal didn’t trust himself to move until she had disappeared from his sight entirely. Now was not the time to pounce. But soon… by Satan, soon… He almost felt a kind of pity at what he knew he was going to do to her.

She continued to haunt him, and the first words he ever spoke to her were an apology.

[rollofleaf]

Owlcatober Day 10: Second Chances

I've wanted to write something like this for so long, I just adore Arueshalae so much. AO3 Link.

Arueshalae came to in a panic. How long had she been unconscious? Days, months, centuries? And what… what had Desna done to her? What do you dream of? The goddess’s parting words filled her mind. She didn’t know the answer to the question. And she was filled with so many unfamiliar emotions swirling inside her. But she was done with that now! She should just head back to Alushinyrra and get on with her life. Drown herself in wine and blood, eat grapes while mortals and demons serviced her, maybe go see Dimalchio and fuck him until he cried! But all of it seemed… Stangely hollow. It was probably just Desna messing with her head. She had insulted the goddess and gotten a bit too cocky, so suffering some revenge was understandable.

Then she turned her head and saw the priestess she had murdered. She had earned her trust and drank her life away for a few brief moments of pleasure. Arueshalae the succubus saw this woman in a way she never had before. The freckles on her cheeks, the creases worn into her dress from so much walking, the peaceful expression on her lips. Not drunk on pleasure or transfixed in horror, merely calm and at peace. And she was so utterly still. Tears began to form in Arueshalae’s eyes. She didn’t know why. She was crying? Why was she crying?

Why had she killed her? It was in her nature, of course. Arueshalae was a murderer, a remorseless cold-blooded monster who killed for pleasure. At least, she used to be remorseless. Staring at the woman, she couldn’t help but feel regret. Ancient memories of the souls that had created her stirred. They were lustful, depraved people perhaps, but they still loved. They still cared. Why could she not?

Arueshalae whimpered and clutched her head. What had Desna done to her? She shouldn’t feel like this! She shouldn’t feel regret or sorrow after taking a life, it was just a stupid mortal! A stupid, beautiful, important mortal. A life full of joy and love and sorrow and fear that she had so cruelly ended before its time. Arueshalae’s mind wandered back to her and the girl’s time together. It had been so easy to draw her in with good looks and charms, then lead her off to these old ruins.

“I-I mean, this is so sudden…” She had said, blushing. Arueshalae had seen it as endearing, but only for the sweetness of plucking such a shy fruit. “A-and after, you, um… We can cuddle? Please? You look so soft and I just… I enjoy being held.” She hadn’t understood it before. She had assumed it was some lie the mortal was telling herself, pretending she didn’t just want sex and pretending there was some silly notion of romance in their encounter. She saw it clearly now. The girl was lonely. She was starved for affection, she just wanted love. And Arueshalae had taken that longing, promised her love, and abused it to ruin her. She winced and strayed a hand to her own chest. She had abused the girl just like so many other demons had done to her. That had never bothered her before, but now the thought was a pit sinking into her stomach.

Did she want love? Did she want affection? What if, she wondered, she had been able to give the priestess what she truly wanted. Arueshalae looked at her corpse. Perhaps she could now, though it would be hollow comfort to her. Slowly, awkwardly, she looped an arm around the priestess. Some small part of her hoped that she would move in response. She cradled the priestess’s head against her bare chest, holding her close. She had only been dead for a few minutes, but her body was already growing cold. Arueshalae cuddled the priestess against her and began to sob. What if she was still alive? What if Arueshalae didn’t kill everything she touched? The priestess could have wrapped her arms around Arueshalae. The soft warmth of skin against skin, a gentle intimacy of two souls bonded in love and affection.

“I’m sorry…” Came choked cries as Arueshalae pressed her lips to the girl’s forehead. “I’m so sorry… I… W-what have I done… I-I’m a monster…” She pushed the corpse away. She didn’t deserve to indulge in such a fantasy. “D-desna… Why… W-why did you do this to me?” She wailed out to the sky as the Worldwound’s blood rain began to fall. “I was happy! I was happy being a monster! W-why am I regretting this now? I… I thought I was happy…” She started to whisper out a curse to the goddess, but paused and looked down at her hands. She couldn’t see it, but she knew they were soaked with blood. She was soaked with blood. But… She had never known any better.

From the moment Arueshalae emerged screaming from the depths of the Abyssal larvae, she had been a monster. It was in her very soul, or whatever dark pit a succubus had in place of one. It had never really occurred to her that she was wrong, or even that she had hurt people. She just didn’t care. She let out a dry laugh. She had always assumed mortals only pretended that harming others was a bad thing, just another of their silly social constructs. But those foolish paladins and priests had it right all along. Who could have guessed…

But now she had been fed the fruit of knowledge. Her eyes were open, her innocence gone. And it hurt. The knowledge of what she had done was a gnawing agony at her stomach. The guilt of centuries of every vicious crime she could think of weighed heavily on her shoulders, almost breaking her. She felt her soul was fragile, it had changed slightly. She could go back. Back to willful ignorance, back to being a monster. She could feel it inside her, it wouldn’t be hard. Despite the clarity that had dawned on the succubus, she still felt that hunger. It wasn’t so bad now that she had been recently fed, but… The thought of devouring another mortal life made her sick to her stomach now. She’d rather go hungry. 

Arueshalae felt a guiding light on her as she stared up at the moon. It was watching over her, she could feel it. What do you dream of? She wanted to find out the answer, and if she went back she would never be able to. Buried under all the muck and evil, she felt a tiny spark of light that had been awakened inside her. She wanted to keep it safe. She wanted to help it grow. She wanted to learn if there was more to existence than the tortured hedonism of her life up to that point. She wanted to learn why the priestess had smiled as she died.

She was reminded of what a different priest from her past had said. She had tried out a new strategy for her, feigning repentance so she could get close to him, seduce, and murder him. He had told her that everyone, even a demon like her, deserved a second chance. Everyone deserved to be allowed to make a positive impact on the world. Though, Arueshalae had never really gotten a first chance, at least not until now. 

The succubus looked up at the moon’s beauty with renewed eyes. She would take the chance she had been offered. She’d discover the beauty of life outside of the Abyss. She’d give everything she had to become better. With a long sigh, Arueshalae stood up. Her gaze lingered on her victim. She hoped that lovely priestess would be the last victim she ever took. She searched around the ruins for a shovel and began to dig a grave. She set a headstone at it, and engraved Desna’s butterfly into it. She didn’t know the girl’s name, so instead she engraved a promise to herself. “I will become better. I am sorry.”

She buried the priestess there and laid a few flowers on the grave, then wept at her mistake for a long while. Once she had cried her eyes out, she stood up and sighed. How did one actually improve themselves? She could ask mortals, but… Already she felt the familiar hunger, the longing for the rush of blood and life energy she would drink. She should stay away from them. She didn’t even know how to behave around mortals without hurting them. Then her ears flicked and she heard a noise behind her. She darted through the ruins, looking over the ancient road that laid below. A small group of crusaders, or at least travelers, was facing off against a group of babau. They were outmatched, and the demons were closing in.

Arueshalae shuddered. She could already see it, the bodies of these crusaders maimed and brutalized, guts ripped out and strewn across the road. Arueshalae had to intervene. If she was going to become better, that would have to start with helping mortals. She was unarmed, but the priestess had set her starknife on the ground, that would have to do. She grabbed it, wincing as the sanctified cold iron burned her unholy fingers, and leapt down. Her wings unfurled and carried her high, and she landed between the babau and crusaders with a crash.

Demonic gravitas swirled around her as she stared them down. Lies and intimidation came easy to her, and she sneered at the demons with a deathly glare. “Back off, boys. I’m hungry, and they’re just cute enough to eat.”

She felt the crusaders’ swords pointed at her now. Something about it stung, but she could handle it. She deserved their hatred and anger, and it helped to sell her ruse.

The lead of the babau let out a low growl at her. “Fuck off, succubus whore! They belong to us!”

Arueshalae’s glare intensified and most of the babau took a step back. She was their betters, and they feared her like all demons feared those more powerful than themselves. The lead had a streak of arrogance, however. He let out a roar and charged at her to stab.

Arueshalae was not the most inclined for combat, but she knew her way around blades. She nimbly swung her body to the side to dodge and let him charge into her starknife. She winced as she felt the metal rip through skin and sinew, severing his arm. It felt visceral, it felt like the violence she used to carry out. Claws digging into flesh, ripping and tearing as blood covered them in agonizing pleasure. She shook her head, she shouldn’t be thinking about sex right now.

He let out a screech of pain. She used to find such sounds rapturous, now they made her cringe. She fought through the cloud over her mind and the sting of cold iron and gripped the weapon tight. She swung again, a wide arc that ripped through his neck. His head tumbled off and his body collapsed with a few final twitches.

She was breathing heavily. She hadn’t even been scratched, but she felt the same panic rising in her chest as when she was badly hurt and scrambling to survive. The rush of blood, the roar in her mind, it was overwhelming and had panic rising in her breast. Her composure started to crack as she turned to the rest of the demons and mustered her willpower. “A-anyone else want to deny my meal?”

The other demons scattered quickly, running for the hills. Arueshalae still felt the crusaders at her back, frozen in fear and confusion at why she wasn’t attacking. She was crying and shaking now, she couldn’t turn to face them. “Leave. NOW! Run for your lives!” She tried to speak as harshly as she could, praying they’d just run. All but one backed away, then started to run down the road.

She glanced back, keeping most of her face hidden. The crusader that remained was a young woman, dressed in Erastil’s colors with a bow at her back. She stared hard at Arueshalae. The succubus couldn’t bear to meet her gaze as she desperately tried to hide the panic in her.

Finally, the woman spoke calmly. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but… Thank you.” She slowly took the bow off her back. “I… I understand the hatred of melee combat. The rush is so overwhelming. Maybe… Maybe this will serve you better.” She set it on the ground and turned to run away back to her fellows.

As soon as she was no longer in view, Arueshalae crumpled into a sobbing heap on the bloodstained ground. She had never been so averse to close combat in the past, but even only a few seconds had her panicking with terror as her demonic rage and desires flooded in her mind. Maybe the priest was right. Maybe she should learn to use a bow. She carefully reached out to pick it up, feeling the smooth wood in her hands.

But, she should celebrate, a voice in her head said. She had done something good! Those crusaders would have died if not for her! The thought brought a slight smile to her face. She was capable of not hurting people. She was even capable of helping them! It would be hard but… Perhaps she really could change for the better.

[merbear25]

For the event x readers (this is so cool and I love the prompts btw) I'd love prompt 16 with Vash and a m/reader, nsfw would b cool but I'd be happy with sfw also!!

Thank you for all the work you put into what you do<3

Thank you so so much for requesting this and your kind words, lovely! Inspiration hit me like a truck, so I was so excited to write this for you 💜💜 I really hope you enjoy it. Fun fact: when I write my own stories, which aren't fandom related, I prefer writing from a male perspective.

CW: NSFW! MDNI! m!reader, mentions of drinking, angsty, mutual masturbation

Taking a risky leap at love

You'd been traveling alongside Vash for quite some time. There were flickering moments on your journey that reminded you of how you first met: aiding him in evading one of the many skirmishes he found himself in, which led to the beginning of an unfaultering friendship.

There were many stops on this seemingly never ending road to peace. However, this was the least of what was weighing on your mind. You'd be lying to yourself if you said romance wasn't budding between the two of you. Whether or not this was one-sided was still unknown to you; a hunch was all you could go off of, but as you stood by and watched him fawn over others, puddles of doubt formed at the bottom of your heart.

Pushing these all too familiar feelings aside for the night, you chose to enjoy unwinding at the local tavern with him. With the collection of mugs increasing and your tab rising, the flushed face of your crush was becoming too difficult for you to ignore your pressuring pining.

Light touches, playful jokes with flirtatious undertones: his bashful reactions to your advances gave you a fluttering courage that tugged at your heartstrings. Further testing the waters, you placed your hand on his thigh and dared to give it a light squeeze. To your surprise, he gently laid his hand on yours, giving you a sincere smile that melted your heart. However, your confidence was struck down when you leaned in for a kiss.

Regret for your previous actions washed over you as you saw discomfort replacing his cheerful demeanor. Apologizing to him, you felt as the answer which you'd been so anxious of hearing was going to shatter your heart to bits.

He tried to reassure you that everything was fine and not to worry about it, but you knew him too well—he was a people pleaser and only wanted to deescalate the situation.

Calling it a night, the two of you went back to your shared room. Despite the room accommodating you with two beds, you'd hoped that tonight would be the one night to allow you to explore your feelings for him more intimately.

Even with every fiber of your being telling you not to, you couldn't hold back from asking, "Maybe I misread the situation back there, but it felt like you wanted that kiss just as much as I did, so why did you pull away?"

"I don't know. I just can't allow you to get mixed up with someone like me."

"Please don't imply that this is for my own good. Don't do that...don't act like you don't feel this too." Your words trailed out of your quivering lips and wrapped around Vash's heart, squeezing at each heartbeat.

Watching his chest falling and rising, you took a cautious step forward. Holding out your hand, he took it and let you pull him into a passionate kiss with fireworks igniting between each slight pull away.

Eagerness to indulge in your mutual desires, the both of you tugged your pants off leaving the other exposed to your watchful eyes.

Letting your fingers wrap around his length, he followed your lead. With each stroke, you exchanged moans. The lust that'd been building up was finally being given the attention it'd so desperately been after.

This high you were feeling was quickly approaching its peak and you could feel Vash approaching it fast too. Each caressing squeeze and tug sent shivers down your spines and made you rut into each other's hands. You never wanted this moment to end, but unfortunately, the finish line was within sight.

Feeling Vash grip at your shoulder, you anticipated your own release: shooting hot streams of cum onto each other, the sudden splash on your body sent another thrilling rush through your lower half.

After easing yourselves down from the hights of ecstacy, you exchanged thoughtful smiles. This night and all others to follow would be accompanied by the more loving side of adventure you, as well as Vash, had always yearned for.

[bleulone]

Roi's captivating journey in Berlín: on defying authority, seeking approval and exploring his desire…

Or a long meta nobody asked for in which I delve into why he’s the best character in this spinoff and why his "romance" with Cameron unfortunately didn’t really make sense.

Foreword : I'm a sucker for nerdy male fictional characters with a hidden hint of confidence, a dark/tragic backstory, who wear the slutty glasses™ and look like they never felt the touch of a woman—of course when Roi was firstly introduced, I knew from the start that he's going to live in my mind rent free for the upcoming months.

˚ · • . ° . ׂׂૢ་༘࿐˚ · • . ° .

From the very first episode, it becomes clear that Berlín unravels as a tale centered around love. Nevertheless, it extends beyond romantic love, notwithstanding the musings of our chaotic, narcissistic dandy of a professional thief who philosophizes about the tantalizingly addictive energy of courtship, chase, and a lust he fervently desires. Although romantic love is prominently depicted as the main thread in the series, it is the comprehensive concept of Love that undergoes demystification, discussion, challenge, embrace, repulsion, and yearning.

The prevailing narrative of the entire season seemed to orbit a distinctive framework: romantic/carnal love, familial love, and self-love, stretching from birth to zenith and eventual demise. What particularly resonated with me was how the creators delved into the exploration of how these love forms can serve as both sources of freedom and imprisonment for the characters. It adds a poetic and meta layer when considering that this entire discussion unfolds against the backdrop of the Parisian landscape.

Within the fragrance that permeated this spinoff, Roi's storyline unquestionably stood out as the most intriguing among the banda. Despite its imperfections, particularly in the romantic aspect (which we'll talk about later), his evolution throughout the season seemed the most logical. To arrive at this conclusion, I believe it's essential to revisit storytelling basics and comprehend why, in my perspective, his arc made the most sense.

For a hero's journey to unfold successfully, it typically follows eight steps, and Roi's arc approximately adheres to these stages, employing a significant amount of telling and a bit of showing:

1. The Call: Running away from home at 13 and engaging in petty crimes. 2. The Threshold: Encountering Berlin at 17 and finally getting out of juvie. 3. + 4. The Challenges and The Abyss: Following the Boss's orders—retrieving the calice, "babysitting" Cameron, and maintaining a distance from her. 5. The Transformation: Failing to comply with orders and defying lover!Berlin. 6. The Revelation: Disclosing the truth to Berlin about the lost necklace during the night at the race, leading to approval and apology. 7. The Atonement: Evading the police, and Roi expressing gratitude for Berlin's guidance and lessons in self-control. 8. The Return (with a Gift): Successfully reaching Madrid, leaving the narrative with a seemingly happy ending, though the final details remain unknown.

Having observed a portion of his journey, Roi's character possesses a distinctive charm, largely stemming from the preconceived notions we harbor about him—"the youngster," "the naive and charming boy who simply follows instructions." I am inclined to think that the most notable feature of his arc this season is its "coming-of-age" essence that resonates with many. He strives to liberate himself from the constraints of unquestioning obedience to Berlin, opting instead to be guided by instinct, explore desire, embrace his identity, and assert his free will.

I truly enjoyed the universal elements in his relationship with Berlin: the admiration, care, the vulnerability and pride. I couldn't get enough of their scenes and wished for more. I was particularly intrigued to know a bit more about Berlin's perspective on education and how he imparted his principles to Roi. Surprisingly, it's refreshing to witness how the young man, contrary to expectations, isn't a Berlin Jr., but rather a wiser, more innocent, and stern version of himself.

Roi's evolution from a runaway orphan misfit to a disciplined young man was truly captivating, primarily because it allowed us to connect with him emotionally. He became the only character who shared such a precious and intimate piece of himself, giving us insight into why Berlin holds such significance for him. This added layer of vulnerability only serves to enhance his endearing personality.

On that note, I admire the way his naivety, which parallels Rio in La Casa de Papel, contrasts with his playfulness and extroversion. Roi's serious demeanor is understandable, considering his challenging upbringing both at home and in juvenile detention; he had to be self-reliant and fight his way through life. His skill in unlocking doors provided a glimpse of his delicacy and patience, making him genuinely distinctive. Indeed, the calmness, uncertainty, and darkness were further echoed in his casual attire and color palette—comprising blue, grey, and black.

I could extensively discuss Roi's incredible personality and his son/father relationship he has with Andres, but unfortunately, I just have to talk about the bad. Yes, Roi's story arc has some limitations that left me a bit disappointed, considering the amazing potential within his character. While he ended up demonstrating maturity and professionalism throughout the series, there was a certain immaturity when it came to matters of "love".

I guess that now is a good time to address the elephant in the room: his (quite underwhelming) "romantic" relationship with Cameron. I find myself somewhat blaming the trailer, as it led me to believe I was in for a compelling love story with a unique approach to the "bad girl/good boy trope" (which I adore). I was particularly displeased with how misleading the "lock picking" and the "No me mires" tattoo scenes in the pilot were, as they seemed to be included solely to inject a bit of sexiness into the show.

Listen, I'm a big fan of romance, and one thing that most romance enthusiast tend to do is approaching love stories in two distinct parts: 1) understanding the characters before the relationship, how they function individually, and 2) how the relationship will shape their individual growth and their growth together.

This is often observed through well-known romantic tropes that typically bring characters together and facilitate both physical and emotional connections. So, let's examine which tropes influenced their interactions: work colleagues, forced proximity, tending wounds (and the somewhat cliché "insta love"). This description may seem fitting at first glance, innit? But did these tropes truly work for them?

One crucial factor to consider is time: I strongly believe that a majority of love stories are slow burns that unfold over different spans. And sorry, chief, but timing wasn't on their side.

Apologies to all the Cameroi shippers out there, but I found it difficult to believe in their relationship, and it felt underwhelming for both characters. After finishing Season 1, opting for a platonic relationship might have been the better choice for them. Let me elaborate on why.

If Pina and Martínez Lobato truly intended to highlight romance (which was a bit overwhelming because literally, everyone had a romantic arc—like babe, it’s too much), especially a romance that made sense for the characters, they should have incorporated more angst and a slow burn. Why? Because, in this season, neither of Roi and Cameron are in the right place to fall in love.

On one hand, Roi's (scarce) romantic history reveals his naivety and idealized perception of love. To be frank, I would even go so far as to say his experience is practically nonexistent. His feelings seemed more like infatuation than genuine love, which requires a deeper connection that they didn't really have time to develop.

A part of me thinks Berlin's "strict" teachings about women played a role. The scene in 1.01 in the bathroom somewhat confirmed that Berlin might have admonished Roi in the past, likely instructing him on managing his hormones. Additionally, when our sweet summer child assured Berlin that he didn't initiate or encourage such behavior with Cameron, it became evident that being prudish was a lesson he had clearly absorbed.

Being a reserved young gentleman who wouldn't dare to meet the eyes of a woman he fancies, in contrast to the charismatic lover Berlin, I'm inclined to think he still has his V card—I can't interfere; it's a canon event.

If Roi seriously lacks experience with women, despite his first and only teenage romantic involvement during juvenile detention, it's only natural that he would stumble. This is evident in his interactions with Cameron. His steps are endearing and pure, but also somewhat messy and oddly quick. For someone who hates being seen as an obedient puppy, he swiftly follows Cameron's suggestion about the glasses, removing them instantly. I found this moment quite intriguing. It would have made more sense in 1.04, right after the quarrel at Polignac house. Removing them on that same night would have heightened the scene's impact and symbolically marked the transition from the old to the new Roi. Then again, taking time is crucial. It could have mirrored the fear of crossing boundaries and played with the symbolic idea that desire mirrors fear.

(**internal screaming** The creators missed an opportunity to delve deeper into the use of mirror imagery and internal conflict.)

That's why his “love” confession to Cameron in 1.07 appeared laughable, rushed and childish. Indeed, as she aptly said, he has "no idea if they'd still be together if Jimmy wasn't part of the equation." How dare he? I feel like this scene was pivotal, opening the door for Roi to reflect on his advances and avoid rushing into things, making him more cautious about the "lines you cannot cross in love" that dad!Berlin warned him about.

Yes, in the lights of his "romantic" arc, Roi had an illusion of love. Were there emotions involved? Certainly, especially since she helped him discuss his past. Lust? Absolutely.

As for Cameron, she's still grappling with trauma from her last relationship (to be honest, given all the suspense, her backstory was quite disappointing). It would have been in line with her character to step back from love and take some time to focus on herself before engaging in anything new. If the creators really wanted to push the romance, they could have only focused on subtle gestures like handholding and meaningful gazes to build the romantic tension, and not just sexual tension.

I didn't appreciate how they were quickly and overly physical with each other. The emphasis on physical touch didn't enhance the pseudo-emotional intimacy. In fact, I don't believe Cameron fell in love or became very infatuated with Roi. I would have preferred her to embody the femme fatale vibe Esther and Alex gave her and maintain a more casual relationship. Yielding to Roi's advances in the end seemed out of character because she should have been triggered, wary of falling deeply in love again and hurting our sweet baby boy Roi.

This is why their kiss felt unnecessarily desperate and passionate. A simple hug would have sufficed. I understand the fear of not seeing each other for three days, but the purpose of Cameron's words in between kisses, like "promise me" and "I can't myself," left me confused and mainly with unanswered questions. It's even more frustrating when we overlook her role in the heist and the unique talent that makes her authentic in the crew.

To wrap up, I believe both of these characters should have been individually explored. Consider the Octopus and the No me mires tattoos, for instance. Why introduce his through Cameron? Why didn't Roi ask about the meaning behind hers? Exploring this could have provided intriguing clues about her past. We could have witnessed a compelling scene of Roi changing, letting the audience notice the tattoos and prompting questions about their significance. Am I surprised that an entire episode is named after his tattoo, yet its origin remains undisclosed? Not at this point. Consequently, I found it difficult to connect with their bonding over the tattoos.

Despite being 23, their story really felt like a teenage love affair. I suppose I'll let fanfiction fill the void left (or do it myself with missing scenes and an eventual ofc, considering Roi is such fanfiction material).

All in all, Roi was undoubtedly the most captivating character. Performed by a wonderful Julio Peña, he skillfully broke the rules and awkwardly embraced his desires, ultimately earning the approval of his second father figure. I'm uncertain about what to expect in a potential Season 2, but one thing I absolutely need more than ever is flashbacks and explanations, especially given it's fucking Berlin's golden age.

What about you? What's your take on Roi? Did you enjoy his character arc and his "romance"? If you made it to the end, thank you ! Thank you very much for taking the time to read all this ramble of mine. I'm genuinely curious to hear your thoughts within the niche fandom here on Tumblr :)

[northernolddragon]

I love your Haarlep and Raphael so much ^~^ why them?

Hello, anonymous. You mean why is this one of my interests? Or why does my soul have a passion for them? I'm guessing, it's both. :) In fact, this pairing has existed since I first met the incubus and enjoyed the scene with him in the aesthetic form, that is usually admired in a beautifully shot erotic short film. Their relationship is confirmed by the studio itself, given the secrets of the Devil's acquaintance in the House of Hope, which are revealed as soon as you get there. I fucking love these two. And I can't stand their romanticization. I like them, both individually and together.

Haarlep is underestimated by many. Its surface is that of a sex toy. Let's be honest - that's practically how it is. The tip of the iceberg that everyone recognizes. And don't want to go deep into a volcano. :) But he is an incubus (or succubus - depending on what the player prefers). Its essence suggests a sexual context. These creatures feed on lust, passion and desire. And yes, they devour their victims during intercourse. Fortunately, we have a choice. I prefer to leave Haarlep alone as he doesn't do anything bad to the player. The only thing is that he will not play to your tune. He prefers to get his own. Figuratively speaking. And during this cut-scene you can reveal Haarlep's personality as a very ambitious, smart demon. I like that it offers play. A game with a mouse, like Raphael. Tav is also a little mouse for him. And he's a cat that Raphael clearly respects, given some of the information that we receive during our communication with the personal incubus. From here the 'sex toy' moves into the background. In my humble theory, he's the favorite. He's a favorite, like the Duke of Buckingham for King James VI of Scotland or Philippe de Lorraine for Philippe, duc d'Orleans, brother of King Louis XIV. Accordingly, Raphael is the king (or Emperor) of his kingdom (Empire), and the incubus is his favorite. Favorites had privileges that queens and empresses sometimes never dreamed of. Naked facts. And  Raphael shares everything with him and doesn't hide anything except what's in the safe, right? Is it really just about sharing with a sex toy your thoughts? Not sure. This is logical, don't you think? That Raphael chose him from many other incubus (succubus) and demons. And I trust the Devil's choice, since he hid several of his secrets in the boudoir. In his personal space there is the only incubus. One of his secrets. Even if there is no love in their relationship (there is none, accordingly - I'm sure that it doesn't exist in their understanding), there is a certain trust and respect. Peculiar. Belongs to both of them. He trusts Haarlep with his dirty secrets. His desires and fantasies. He trusts him with his body. His face. His essence.

Haarlep has some power in these chambers. And he behaves relaxed, not tense, like a person to whom everything is permitted. He behaves like a favorite.

Let there be a treaty between them (I've read some theories about the possibility of an incubus being there as a personal pleasure, and I find this theory more realistic and entertaining), let there be a dozen fire-stinging stones in a theory where Haarlep is not particularly happy with his position. But I don't consider him a victim. He is in the Devil's chambers. On his pillows. In his bed. He is, I must say, in an excellent position. Whatever was behind his wings. Whatever stories this situation hides. He settled in perfectly in the space of the House of Hope. He laughs, he is amused, he knows Raphael almost completely. He is his perfect copy. Is this a loss of individuality or a choice that has already been forcibly ingrained? Or is it an imposed preference and approved by rebellious humility? I love the moment, when Haarlep mocks his Devil. This is the best thing about the scene. He plays pranks like a cat, knowing that his owner will not praise him, that this will anger Raphael. He adds fire to the flames already filling the House of Hope, because Tav has climbed where he shouldn't. And since he asks, it makes no sense to lie. Is this revenge for the agreement? Or is his own dissatisfaction that he is a hostage to his position, which he both likes and perhaps periodically gets bored with? Various options are possible. Without vanilla dreams of romantic feelings. No secrecy. But the point is that he knows the Devil. He knows, what he is like. He knows, he won't like it. And he gives away the keys to the most valuable things. He is their keeper. He is the keeper of the Devil's main secrets. He is a good cop towards Tav and a bad cop towards Raphael. He's a demon. And he has the right to do as he wants, since it is not that he isn't afraid of Raphael - he's neither a servant, nor a representative of the second or third class, and probably knows that nothing will happen to him for such. After all, the guilty thief will take full responsibility.

The devil is not so stupid as to put just anyone into his bed. We see that Raphael prefers order. As the owner of his house, he does not tolerate chaos in his possessions unless he wants it. Judging by his behavior, how courteous he is, how collected he is, a portrait of a meticulous to the point of neatness is clearly emerging. That is why he is so enraged when, despite his advantageous decency, if a player signs a contract, deciding to break it, comes to the House of Hope, or follows Orpheus' hammer, without his permission he visits something that is kept in strict order and according to the rules of Raphael himself. Therefore, I see no point in romanticizing his relationship with Tav, since he makes it clear that it is not the character that he craves, but what this little mouse can give as a result of his progress towards a single goal. He may admire him to some extent. But Tav will remain a mouse. And Raphael is the Cat. And he defines inequality by this. :) He distributes it clearly and politely. Nevertheless, the above describes Haarlep and Corilla as equals. To those close to him. They are his advisers, spies, guardians. Therefore, no matter what stones hang in the relationship with Haarlep, his relationship is realistically confirmed. And I like their uniqueness. Their honesty. Their non-standardity. There is no love there, no sweet feelings there. There is something that Raphael values ​​- honesty. It is unlikely that he would want Haarlep to cowardly tuck his tail between his legs and say in a trembling voice that all his poems and plays are written beautifully, magnificently, and are masterpieces, when this is far from the case in his creative process. Let's leave this to those behind the boudoir.

Rather, I see that Haarlep, on languid evenings in Raphael's company, shows one of his best qualities, expressing what's wrong with this poem, and that he doesn't like the way its ending sounds, and Raphael needs to think about it and redo it, even if it will cause disapproval on his part, he will appreciate honesty. They don't grovel before him, they're not afraid that he'll grind you into powder with his gaze, crush you, and rub your sole into the floor. So I appreciate Haarlep's characterization. That's why I see more fire here. That's why I like them both together. :) They're incredible.

And I wouldn't say that Haarlep has lost his personality. Rather, Raphael is precisely what values. He's a good actor, and at the same time quite honest in separating himself from the image of Devil. There are noticeable differences in it. His ambition does not allow him to hide himself in the obsession of a 'copy of the Devil'. Therefore, many often prefer Haarlep more than the true Devil. They see the difference, I guess. Haarlep is a kind of vicious 'side', not without intelligence and tenacious claws. He is more open to sophisticated games. And he doesn't hide the fact that he can eat you. In all senses.

And yes, I get aesthetic pleasure from their design. The characters themselves. The devil is in the details, as they say. :)

This is just my little analysis. Opinion. Everyone keeps their fantasies in a safe (in mine there is also a place for Raphael / Astarion, why not?). Thank you.

P. S. I apologize, if there are any errors. This isn't my native language. But I tried to check everything as much as possible. :)