#also v excited for the medium | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hyunesent · 4 months ago

Text

. ۫𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪ SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL

"The idea of exploring the beauty and complexity of the human body and physical connections wasn't uninteresting, and you couldn't think of a better person to do it with other than the one sitting next to you."

art student!hyunjin x art student!reader (afab)

chapter cw: pining, drinking, masturbation (m + f), depictions of oral sex (f receiving) and p in v sex, pre-cum eating. I honestly wanted to do a lot more in this chapter but I also want the slow burn ;p

Chapter 1: Beneath the surface

How could you not be entranced by him? Where the scent of paint thinner mingled with the whisper of the sound of paintbrushes on canvases, you found yourself drawn to the figure at the far easel; conveniently placed at a comfortable pining distance.

An unmistakable art style so different from your own paired with his sculpted features. His presence was an intricate masterpiece of quiet confidence and unspoken dreams. Each brushstroke he made, imbued with a natural fluidity, seemed to capture the essence of something ineffable, something you yearned to unravel.

Hyunjin was a study of classical beauty. Dark, expressive eyes, often framed by a fringe of soft, slightly tousled hair, and his lips, full and slightly pouted as he fully engrossed himself in his work. But of course, your admiration didn't halt at appreciation for his artistry. You couldn't help but cross your legs tighter when you caught a glimpse of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and your thoughts could not help but wonder how smooth it would feel against–

“I have already assigned you all partners for this conceptual art task you have been given, these have been chosen strategically so I want you to all challenge yourselves and each other to push your creative boundaries for this piece. Each pair will be given an abstract concept to interpret and express in three different mediums. The themes will be emailed to you separately this evening but for now, I will send you all the list of pairs so ensure you have means to contact them.”

You paid little mind to your professor's description of the task assigned to you but perked up while packing your stuff away at the last sentence. As you carefully slung your bag over your shoulder you felt the vibration in your pocket, clicking on the notification your eyes pulsed open with a mix of emotions when you saw your name next to Hyunjin’s.

Sure you were acquainted with him in class and had worked with him in group settings before but that was all at a comfortable distance where there was no need for the two of you to understand each other on a deeper level. Your excitement and anticipation transitioned into panic as a tall shadow covered you.

You look up and are greeted with a short yet soft smile from the man before you and are instantly weak in the knees. There was a moment where you were allowed to take in the way he looked so effortlessly perfect with his hair pulled out of his face with a hair tie and you had to stop yourself from frowning as he swiftly released it allowing his to fall to his collarbones as he raked his hands through it. He spoke so comfortably as the two of you walked side by side out of the building.

“Y/n I was wondering if you’re okay to start the project today we can meet after my shift? I’m honestly excited to do this assignment,” He looks at you and lets out a chuckled sigh “It seems so much more interesting than the last.”

You almost roll your eyes at the memory of the material studies essay that was due and it provokes Hyunjin's contagious laugh. The two of you light-heartedly complain as you reminisce about the sleepless nights spent on such an unfulfilling part of the course.

After a few minutes, you make it clear that you're more than happy to start the project tonight and he sweetly expresses gratitude before hastily saying goodbye to ensure he won't be late for work. You make your way to your dorm blissfully and in contrast to your usual bed rotting and doom-scrolling combo you get in the shower. Hours later your phone lights up several times.

Hyunjin: Just got back to my dorm, gonna shower and order food for us Hyunjin: be here in an hour? Hyunjin: and don't open the email with our theme!!! Hyunjin: let's do it together so we can brainstorm Hyunjin: see you soon :)

As you scroll down, the last notification catches your eye—an email from your professor. Smiling fondly at Hyunjin’s messages, you swipe the notification away. Biting your lip to silence a laugh, you can't help but notice how playful his demeanour is through text, a sharp contrast to the mysterious allure he maintains in person. Setting your phone aside, you put a little extra effort into your appearance, more than you usually would for a simple assignment, before making your way to his dorm.

When you arrived at your assignment partner's dorm, your heart pounded in sync with your tentative knock on the door. When Hyunjin opened it, his warm smile and lingering gaze made your pulse race.

Stepping inside, you were pleasantly surprised by the room's unexpected sensuality. Soft lighting bathed the space in a golden glow, while the scent of sandalwood and paint lingered in the air. Abstract paintings in Hyunjins distinctive style adorned the walls, each one more evocative than the last. You always knew Hyunjin enjoyed more provocative themes in class but this was different, more intimate.

Your eyes met again, and his gentle, lingering stares hinted at something unreadable, making you feel both exhilarated and at ease. As you settled in to get ready to work on your project, Hyunjin took your jacket from you and hung it next to his before coming back to where you were seated with two glasses of wine. You take it from him with a warm smile and a whispered thank you then take a sip before placing it down next to his.

“What do you think the theme is going to be?” he asked, his attentive eyes fixated on yours. “Not a clue,” you replied after a moment's thought. “I think it’s cool we’re all doing different themes, though. It'll be interesting to see everyone’s interpretations.”

He nodded in agreement before taking out his phone and unlocking it, positioning himself so you could see the screen. He spared you a glance, a silent plea that the theme assigned would be intriguing. As he opened the email and scrolled down, you read together, and the disparity between your synced reactions was almost comical. The Human Form and Intimacy. As you read those words, a blush crept up your cheeks, almost as if you had been found guilty of something. Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin’s eyes gleamed with something exhilarating.

“Oh my God, that’s so good!” he exclaimed, looking over at you with an uncontainable smile. You instinctively sat up straighter. “There’s so much we can do with this. I’m so excited.” You couldn’t help but feel a warmth seeing the genuine joy exuding from Hyunjin. His passion for his craft was truly admirable. In comparison, you were much more of a stay-inside-the-lines kind of person, not as outgoing or experimental with your art or your personal life. However, despite your initial hesitation, the idea of exploring the beauty and complexity of the human body and physical connections wasn't uninteresting. And you couldn't think of a better person to do it with than the one sitting next to you.

The room was quiet save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint scratching of pencils on paper. Hyunjin suggested the two of you brainstorm ideas and then feedback to each other. He sat comfortably at his desk, his posture relaxed and confident, while you fidgeted with your supplies. The theme of the assignment, "The Human Form and Intimacy," loomed large in your mind, casting a shadow of nervousness over your creativity. Hyunjin’s ease with the subject was palpable. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he began sketching and writing, effortlessly capturing the fluid grace of the human body in simplified forms and creating lists of ideas on what mediums could be used. You, on the other hand, found your hands trembling slightly as you tried to put pencil to paper. The suggestive nature of the theme felt almost too intimate and too revealing, and you struggled to express yourself without feeling exposed.

Sensing your discomfort, Hyunjin looked up from his work, his gaze softening. "You seem a bit nervous," he said gently, his voice a soothing murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. "Are you okay with this theme?" You hesitated, biting your lip before nodding slowly. "I’ve never really done anything like this before. It feels…vulgar, almost. I’m not sure how to be open and expressive with something so personal."

Hyunjin listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze a comforting anchor. "I understand," he said softly. He did, sex and intimacy weren't something that he took lightly either and he understood why holding it in such high regard would cause a sense of conflict for a task like this. "It can be intimidating to delve into such intimate themes, but there’s a lot of beauty in it too. The human form, the connections we share, they’re all part of our most profound experiences."

He paused, then continued, his voice low and sincere, laced with a quiet intensity. "There’s something incredibly powerful about capturing those moments of vulnerability. It’s not just about intercourse; it’s about the raw, unfiltered connection between people. That’s what I find beautiful." With that, he reached for a sketchbook tucked away on his shelf, one he rarely showed to anyone. He silently handed it to you, so you opened it and saw page after page filled with sensual sketches, each one a masterful depiction of human bodies intertwined in moments of passion or singular bodies enjoying their own pleasure and tenderness. The drawings were explicit, yes, but there was a grace and elegance to them that transcended the vulgarity you had feared. Hyunjin’s eyes met yours as he explained, "These sketches are my way of exploring and celebrating intimacy. They’re meant to capture the beauty of those private, sacred moments."

You were taken aback, but also deeply intrigued. His perspective was so different from your own, and yet, you couldn’t help but be drawn to it. Growing up, you were always taught to view sex as something simple and utilitarian, a straightforward act with a singular purpose. Your upbringing, steeped in traditional values, framed intimacy as a means to an end, devoid of nuance or emotion. However, as you grew older and moved out on your own, the world began to unfold in all its complexity. You found yourself exploring new ideas and experiences, each one peeling back layers of understanding. You discovered that sex could be a profound expression of love, a dance of trust, or a celebration of physical pleasure. It was a spectrum of emotions and connections, each encounter adding depth to your perception. Still, in spite of your own experiences, you couldn't deny how affected you were seeing the array of drawings in front of you.

Your cheeks and ears felt flushed as your eyes scanned over sketches of women and men indulging in self-pleasure, each figure rendered with exquisite detail and sensitivity. The scratches of his pencil conveyed a palpable sense of ecstasy, from the arch of a woman's back to the intense focus in a man's gaze as he explored his own pleasure. The sheets rustled softly as you turned them, your fingers trembling slightly, each new image a testament to Hyunjin's ability to capture the beauty and intensity of human desire. You could feel his intense gaze on you but the embarrassment you felt from it did not overtake your curiosity to keep turning the page. There was an undeniable attraction, an arousal even, in the way he spoke about and depicted sex and intimacy through his art. His passion was contagious, stirring something within you. Your heart pounded and a wetness collected in your underwear, unable to quell the surge of arousal these intimate. It was as if you could feel the passion emanating from the pages, each drawing tightening the feeling in your core and causing your pathetic attempt at clenching around nothing.

That did not go unnoticed. Too focused on calming yourself down you did not see the way Hyunjin’s eyes darkened. "I’ve always believed that art should make you feel something," he said, his voice a hushed whisper that seemed to wrap around you. "It should stir your soul, make your heart race. That’s what these drawings do for me. They’re not just about the physical act, but about the emotions behind it, the intimacy and trust."

You finally found the courage to look up at him and he almost gasped seeing your glossed over eyes. You felt a warmth spreading through you, a mix of admiration and a burgeoning desire to explore this new realm of expression. "I’ve always been afraid to push boundaries, to really let go," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. Hyunjin’s hand reached out, his thumb lightly brushing over the back of your hand in a gesture that was both reassuring and electrifying. "Art is about breaking those boundaries," he said softly. "It’s about being brave enough to express your true self, to explore the depths of your emotions."

You nodded, your eyes locked onto his, feeling a profound connection forming between you. "I want to try," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. His smile was warm and encouraging. "We can explore this together," he promised. His gaze loitered on you taking you in and feeling your genuinity. Hyunjin watched you with a mix of intense curiosity and restrained desire, the intimacy of the recent conversation hanging palpably between you. Your flushed cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled with a blend of excitement and sensitivity made his pulse quicken.

He had been able to sense the subtle shift in your energy and posture, a silent admission of arousal that mirrored the growing tent in his pants. He felt a powerful urge to bridge the gap between your feelings, to show you the depths of his passion in a more tangible way. Yet, as the moment stretched on, he wrestled with his own impulses, determined to remain respectful and honour the delicate trust you had just begun to build. With a deep breath, he chose to focus on your shared journey of exploration and expression, channelling his desire into a mutual understanding rather than a physical advance.

As you continued to talk, the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the intoxicating possibility of what you could create together. The nervousness began to retreat, replaced by a growing curiosity and a need to understand Hyunjin’s perspective. You found a new sense of freedom, a permission to explore your creativity without fear. Hyunjin had gone to refill your glasses and the two of you had decided that the three mediums you would be using for this project were oil painting (hyunjin’s speciality), sculpting and photography. The alcohol prevented your mind from wandering too much about what that would entail so instead you spent the rest of the evening basking in each other's company trying to push aside any lingering thoughts.

The street lamps cast a warm glow on the quiet campus as Hyunjin and you strolled side by side. Your footsteps echoed softly against the brick buildings, a rhythmic soundtrack to your shared silence. The evening air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of summer nights and possibility. Hyunjin glanced at the girl beside him, admiring how the golden light played across your features. Your brow furrowed slightly as you clutched your sketchbook to your chest, no doubt still pondering your art assignment. He longed to smooth away that tiny crease with his thumb, to feel the softness of your skin beneath his touch. "Thank you for walking me back," you murmured, breaking the silence. Your voice was low, almost reverent in the stillness of the night. Hyunjin's lips curved into a gentle smile, his own voice a rich timbre that seemed to resonate in the space between them. "I couldn't let you walk alone at this hour."

As you approached your dorm building, your pace slowed unconsciously, neither quite ready for the evening to end. Hyunjin's hand brushed against yours, a whisper of contact that sent electricity coursing through both your bodies. He heard your sharp intake of breath and felt his heart rate quicken in response. You came to a stop before the entrance, turning to face each other. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension. Hyunjin's gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, dark and luminous in the lamplight. "I had a lovely time tonight," you said softly, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sketchbook. Hyunjin nodded, swallowing hard. "So did I. Your ideas for the project were inspiring."

You couldn't help but smile at that knowing how much of an inspiration he was to you. His hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips lingered, tracing the delicate outline of your jaw. You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief, exquisite moment.

When you opened them again, Hyunjin saw a flash of something primal in their depths – a hunger that mirrored his own. His hand lingered over yours, not willing to break the connection. At that moment, the air between them seemed charged with possibility. Hyunjin leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. You tilted your face up, your lips parting slightly in anticipation. But all too soon, realisation hit and you stepped back, breaking the spell, leaving you both breathless and aching. With a final, gentle squeeze of your hand, Hyunjin stepped back. You look at him wordless and it seems he caught on as he spoke for you.

"Goodnight," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Goodnight, Hyunjin," you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you turned and entered your dorm. As the door closed behind you, Hyunjin let out a shaky breath. He stood there for a moment, his mind replaying the evening, before slowly making his way back to his dorm. The walk back was a blur, Hyunjin's mind consumed by replaying every moment of your interaction. The soft brush of your arm against his as they walked, the way your eyes had widened when he'd touched your face, the barely audible catch in your breath. As soon as his door clicked shut behind him, Hyunjin leaned against it, his head falling back with a soft thud. The scent of your perfume clung to his clothes, a constant reminder of your closeness. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to shake off the intense arousal that had been building all evening.

Once inside your room, you leaned against the door, your heart pounding. The memory of Hyunjin's touch lingered on your skin, igniting a fire within you. Closing your eyes you imagined what might have happened if you’d been brave enough to kiss him. Hyunjin lay in his dorm bed, the dim light of the night sky seeping through his window, casting shadows that danced and flickered across his body. The memory of the evening lingered a heavy warmth that seemed to permeate everything. You had both held back, yearning to give in to your desires, but unable to find the courage to cross that final line. Now, as he lay there with his eyes closed, the pressure built within him. His hand drifted down his chest, fingers ghosting over the thin fabric of his shirt. He imagined your touch instead of his own, delicate yet curious, exploring the planes of his body. Hyunjin felt the throbbing need that had been building up inside him. He closed his eyes and thought of you, your body warm and inviting, gripping his hardness, guiding him inside you

In a room not too far from his, you laid in your bed, heart pounding in sync with his own. The memories of your evening together were just as fresh in your mind, and as you imagined his touch, your own arousal began to build once more, your body responding to his thoughts as if you were in the same room, touching each other. You ran your hand down your body, skin tingling from the friction of your fingers against you. Your thoughts were filled with the image of him, his bare chest rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing. You visualized your body gliding over his, your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss, your wet tongues exploring each other's mouths. When you reached between your legs, you felt a surge of desire for him, growing stronger with every stroke against your pussy. You imagined him between your legs, his face buried in your folds as he eagerly and desperately pleasured you. You could envision the intense focus in his eyes, his lips glistening with your arousal allowing him to taste his min rain with all the things he wanted to do to you; like you were his canvas waiting to be covered. Your breathing became more ragged, moans escaping your lips, hips arching off the bed as your hand worked faster and faster, seeking the release you craved.

Hyunjin's thoughts grew more intense, imagining you wet and aroused, your body yearning for his touch just as much as he longed for yours. His hand moved in a steady rhythm, his grip becoming more firm with each stroke. The sight of his own arousal, glistening in the dim light, was a tantalizing sight. The scent of sweat and arousal filled the air, musky and heady. His scent mixed with yours in his mind, creating an aroma that only fueled his desire. His lips were parted as he panted, his mouth dry and craving a taste. He imagined your lips on his, your dripping cunt. As his hand moved over his swollen tip, he could feel the stickiness of his desire. He brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick them in anticipation. He whined and bucked his hips up to the taste of his own pre-cum lingering on his tongue, salty and sweet. Yet he couldn't help but wonder what it would taste like mixed with yours.

He envisioned you climaxing beneath him, your body writhing in pleasure as he brought you to a shuddering, soul-shaking orgasm. The thought of your cries of ecstasy, the feel of your hot, wet core clenching around him, sent him over the edge. You imagined him cumming, his throbbing erection releasing its load deep within you, filling you, completing the connection you both craved. Your fingers slick with your arousal, were thrust inside yourself, your body responding to the fantasy as if it were your own touch that you needed. A hand came up to silence your loud whimpers. Your body convulsed, your orgasm taking over. Your body shook with the intensity of the climax. It was as if you could feel him inside you, your bodies moving in tandem, desires finally merging into a single, unified experience.

Hyunjin's orgasm was explosive, the rush of pleasure so intense that it felt as if every nerve ending in his body was alight. His climax crashed over him in waves parallel to the ropes of cum that landed on his stomach. He imagined you, your face scrunched in pleasure, your body locked in the throes of your release At that moment, miles apart, their highs intertwined as if they were physically touching each other. The heavy warmth of the emotions seeped into the air once more, leaving behind a memory that would never be forgotten. Hyunjin lay in his dorm bed, still trembling from the intensity of his release. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. They might not have crossed the line that night, but the connection they had built was undeniable, and the desire that burned between them was only just beginning.

𝘼𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: This is a work of fiction not a portrayal of anyone in real life. THIS TOOK SO LONG TO POST. I'm excited to continue this series, I have a few ideas for the smut and how it will link to the mediums chosen. I think the sculpting will be my favourite to write. I also really want to develop Hyunjin's character a lot in this so stay tuned for that Likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated. Happy reading .ᐟ

501 notes · View notes

cryptidghostgirl · 10 months ago

Text

Make You Wish Chapter Four -- Vox

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter? Correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,225

Previous Part: Chapter Three -- A Reunion

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I wasn't planning on posting this until tomorrow, but it seems to have some rather excited fans so here is chapter four (and the fourth thing I'm publishing today. We're very done for the day. I am tried and have actual work to do.) Also guys, I'm screaming. I accidentally deleted the whole things right before I was gonna post it. Thankfully I had a draft from when it was almost done save but like, god that sucked.

On the screen was Vox, seated behind a desk.

"Top of the hour and we're discussing a certain has-been how has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence." Vox was saying, a poorly drawn image of Alastor displayed on the screen to his left.

Y/n saw Alastor's ear twitch with irritation.

"Yeah." she sighed, folding her arms across her chest, "Vox has gone kinda crazy since you left. I told you, things got tough."

"Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight's program." Vox said through the TV, shuffling a stack of papers.

Alastor changed the channel with another flick of his finger.

"Hun, don't worry yourself with it." Y/n advised, "He's still gonna be there tomorrow."

The new channel showed a talk-show set up, Vox-2-Nite, where Vox was both host and guest.

"So, the old Radio Demon is back in town." host Vox was saying to himself as guest.

"Why is he hanging around?" guest Vox asked, taking a sip from a mug that had 'fuck Alastor' written on the side.

"Al." Y/n warned, sensing her friends irritation growing.

"What does that mean for your family?" Host Vox asked before Alastor changed the channel again.

Vox was on the screen again, before a bright red curtain.

"Well, handily, I've got good news." he was saying theatrically, "He's a loser, a fossil, and I don't mean to sound hostel-"

Alastor changed the channel again. This time to one of Vox's mega church broadcasts. Vox stood in the center of the screen wearing a pope's hat with an inverted cross on it.

"But the demon is a coward!" he announced, his words matching the previous channels sentiments perfectly.

"Jesus, V." Y/n asked, eyes wide, "How many channels are you running this on?"

"You can take that as gospel. Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I'm visual, he's barely audible."

"Y/n." Alastor hummed, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Yeah?"

"You wont mind if I handle this quickly. We can have our little chat after, I promise. It wont take more than a moment."

"I don't know, Al..." Y/n sighed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot slightly, "This isn't good for you, letting him get under your skin like this."

Alastor changed the channel again. A cooking show appeared and Vox was standing before the oven, singing along to the music playing in the background.

"But he should've stayed away! While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video!"

Vox on screen turned to the oven as he sang, opening it and pulling out a deer's head on a plate. Y/n bristled at the site, her horns growing just the tiniest bit longer, her teeth just the smallest bit sharper.

"And now his medium is getting bloody rare!"

"Al?" Y/n asked sharply.

"Yes, darling?"

"I lied." Y/n turned to face him, "He took this shit musical. Rip him a new one."

"Oh!" Millie exclaimed, excitedly grabbing onto Moxxie's arm, "We're gonna get a show!"

Alastor's grin widened at Y/n's words, if that was even possible. He stuck his hand out to the side, his microphone materializing in his grasp.

"Lucky for me, I've got the best voice this side of the divide on my side." he noted, shooting Y/n a look.

Her eyes flashed red.

"You flatter me."

Alastor brought his microphone to his mouth, suddenly exceedingly calm. The imps present in the room watched in shock as his ears flattened along his head.

"Salutations, good to be back on the air!" he announced into the device, "Yes I know it's been a while since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!"

Vox's brow furrowed on the TV screen as he inched up close to the camera.

"What a dated voice." Vox shot back, clearly listening to Alastor's broadcast on the set of his cooking show.

"Instead of a clout chasing, mediocre, video podcast." Alastor continued, not showing any sign he had noticed the TV demon's insult, "Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?"

"Ignore his chirping!" Vox commanded from the TV.

Y/n laughed and, turning to face Alastor, realized the man held a hand out to her. With a smile, she took it and he spun her into his arms as he spoke. The music echoed through the office as Alastor raised the volume on the TV once again.

"Every day he's got a new format."

Alastor spun Y/n back out again as the pair began dancing.

"You're looking at the future!" Vox yelled back, "He's the shit that comes before that!"

As Alastor spun Y/n back into his arms, she laid one of her hands on top of his holding the microphone and pulled it closer to her face.

"Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support?" she sang in a clear voice, Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie's eyes widening with recognition at the sound, "He'd be powerless without the other Vees."

"That's true!" Alastor noted, pulling the microphone back to himself as Y/n let go of his hand and he spun her back out again.

"It can't be..." Moxxie muttered under his breath.

"Holy shit!" Millie cut him off, excitement creeping into her voice, "There's no way, Y/n is the guest star?"

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Blitzo asked, turning to Millie and Moxxie as they watched the couple continue to dance.

"Well, Sir," Moxxie began, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, "back before the Radio Demon went missing, he used to bring guests onto the show on occasion. There was one guest he never named during his broadcasts however. She mostly just sang songs and chatted with him but, she sounded an awful lot like Y/n did just now."

"You don't say." Blitzo hummed, his arms crossed as he turned back to Y/n and Alastor, "So much for little miss 'oh, my life has been so boring. You'd probably just fall asleep if I started talking about it!' She is so gonna get it later."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hand and leaned into the microphone, beginning to sing as well, using the music emanating from the TV as a base.

"And here's the sugar on the cream: he asked me to join his team!"

"Hold on!" Vox yelled.

"I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" Alastor finished, ignoring the demon once again.

"You old timey prick!" Vox exclaimed, his face glitching slightly as Y/n wandered back over to Alastor.

She leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tilting her head to the side in amusement as they watched Vox struggle.

"I'll show you suffering!"

"Aww, the TV is buffering." Y/n said, leaning into the microphone, her voice dripping with sickly sweet pity.

"I'll destroy yoo-o-u-u" Vox exclaimed as his technical difficulties seemed to grow worse.

Alastor and Y/n exchanged a wicked pair of smiles as the TV flickered out. Shadows crept from the edges of the room, encircling their feet. Alastor held an arm out to Y/n once again which she took with a smile. In a flash of darkness, they were gone.

"What the fuck was that?" Loona asked, stalking into the room.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Five -- The Conversation

592 notes · View notes

yermes · 21 days ago

Text

Its messy but its all I have 🍓 🫀

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

Pick a meme

123

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. But I am working on sharing my notes soon so that will be exciting! Liking and sharing does a lot 🥰

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

Follow me?

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

The cards

The moon 🌙

Delusion, something you want but feel like you can never have and the thought that you could never have it is the delusion. While we at times use delusion as such a strong primal power which we use to make our means. It can also be problematic when it comes in the form imposter syndrome. We can’t let ourselves hold ourselves back. We are magical being of stardust straight from the garden, you can make what you want with your hard work and the skills you gain along the way. Thats the use of delusion for good.

Strength 🦁

Strength is never clean, the will and compassion to go on despite it all is never easy and is never clean. Everything we had we clawed and ripped it into our reality. We worked and labored for everything we had and we are prepared to work and claw to keep everything we gained. Love isn’t something that has ever come easy but we love life, we love four lives, we love what we worked to forge for ourselves. When we claw and work and tumble and get our shit together we will overcome anything

V of cups 🍷

Is love supposed to be clean? Is it supposed to be cookie cutter, to look a certain way. Is the path of love covered in blood and tears while we walk begging to be understood by the universe that spat you out and left you in the cold. Anything we ever loved has bite marks and claw marks on it because to love is sacred, love is something we mourn and we feel it on every range of the chemical spectrum, like everything else.

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

Extras:

Story/vent:

My academic era is out

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

123 notes · View notes

thecampjuicebox · 11 months ago

Text

Glorious Suffering

Pairing: Abdirak x Tav(f) x Astarion

Rating: 18+ NSFW, Minors DNI

POV: 2nd person

Warnings: SMUT, sadomasochism, use of objects for hitting, blood, bruising, biting, voyeurism/exhibitionism, orgasm denial, oral, fingering, p in v penetration, minor game spoilers

Trying out a new writing format to put better emphasis on dialogue. Let me know what you guys think!

The stench of blood and unwashed bodies lingers in the air like a thick blanket. It stings in your nostrils - singes the hairs with gut churning ferocity. Putrid. It makes your eyes water. Your stomach turns and bubbles as your breakfast threatens to make a second appearance. The once grand Selunite Outpost has since crumbled to near ruins, the occupation of goblins tainting its beauty and grace in a matter of days. Filthy pests, they are. You turn your head up, eyes watering from the scent as you climb the stone stairs toward a hallway of small rooms. Your group follows close behind reluctantly.

"This place is disgusting." Astarion whines, tip-toeing around small piles of bones and viscera.

Cautious eyes peek around corners. The first room is brightly lit with candles and lanterns, a young man strapped by the wrists and ankles to some sort of torture device. Two goblins swing maces and whips in his direction, shouting obscenities and asking for information. Information the man clearly doesn't seem to have.

"Pathetic. All of them." Shadowheart huffs, turning her nose up at the display with obvious disdain for what she's seen.

"They can't even properly swing a mace to cause actual damage. Lady Shar would be displeased."

Astarion grins at the sight. Excited fingers crawl against the stone brick wall to take hold of it as he leans into the doorway, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip and trace the sharp points of his fangs.

"Let's stay and watch." The spawn's flirtatious nature can be so insufferable sometimes.

"Astarion, come. We have other business to attend to." Your voice is sharp and stern, seemingly the only way the elf will listen to you.

"You're such a bore." He groans, pulling away from the wall and hooking his index finger into the back of your leathers, giving them a playful tug toward him as he presses close to your behind and mumbles into your pointed ear.

"Doesn't that device look like such fun? We should give it a try once the little green ones have no more use for it."

Your cheeks burn crimson and a disengaging elbow flies out from behind you, connecting with Astarion's abdomen hard enough to force him to let go of your leathers.

"Not now, you tease." With a cough, he puts some distance between the two of you - an insidious grin lingers on his lips.

The second room draws closer and the quiet mumble of a man inside makes your ears perk up. His voice is strained, the occasional sounds of mace to skin ringing through the hall. He cries out, and every hair on your body stands on end. Astarion rounds the corner first, stumbling upon a man with medium build, knelt down in front of one of the rear walls of the room. He stands and turns to your group slowly, eyes falling on you first. His gaze is almost.. Comforting. Silver eyes pierce through you like the sharpest dagger. It nearly knocks the breath straight from your lungs. His chest and abdomen are alarmingly bloodied and bruised, little cuts and scratch marks speckling his skin. Astarion clears his throat once he notices your eyes locked on one another and the human offers a kind smile.

"Greetings, child. I've met few aside from Goblins here. Are you also here to assist with the prisoner?" He questions, motioning toward the room just next door.

You shake your head slowly, averting your gaze to the floor for a moment. Warmth swirls in your belly. He's incredibly handsome, the salt tones in his blonde hair showing his age. His voice is low and raspy and it sends shivers up and down your spine when he speaks - like sweet red wine to your ears. Delicious and intoxicating. His face contorts into a grimace as he crosses his arms over his chest and rests his weight on one foot.

"Hm. While I was thrilled to be invited here, I must confess I find the goblins and their methods.. Crude and primitive." He leans forward at his last word, eyes narrowing toward you. "Pain without purpose is a terrible thing. Wouldn't you agree?"

Your cheeks involuntarily flush that deep shade of crimson that clearly gives you away. He awakens something within you. You'd recognize his garb from miles away. A follower of Loviatar, the Maiden of Pain. The things this man has probably seen. The things he's done. It excites you in a way that's almost embarrassing. A familiar ache pings in your core and you can't help but cross your legs, squeezing your thighs together tightly to dull the desperation. The inherent need. The human before you certainly notices and takes a step closer, inhaling slowly before he speaks. He's toying with you now. He must be. Astarion can smell the growing eagerness in your blood, hear the way your pulse quickens, life force pumping into different parts of you now. He smirks and keeps quiet, but gods, is he painfully aware.

"Forgive me -" The man interjects, pointing directly at you now. You gulp. "but that look in your eyes. Something terrible has happened to you."

You cross your arms over your breasts, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "Clever man. How did you know?"

"Because I see those same eyes when I look in the mirror.. Dear one." His hand reaches out to caress your soft cheek and goosebumps raise by the millions on your skin. "We've all suffered in these.. Dark times. It is little wonder you bear scars of pain and anguish. Please. Let me.. Alleviate this pain."

"What exactly would this entail?" Astarion's voice cuts through your thoughts and your eyes shift to him in disbelief.

"Well, the Maiden of Pain, Loviatar, teaches us that pain is a most powerful and sacred sensation. And, should our pain delight her, she will grant her most sacred of blessings." His hands clench into excited fists in front of him. "If you would permit it, I could show you first hand."

A knot forms in your stomach, twisting and tangling, his words sending jolts of arousal and excitement throughout your entire body like bolts of lightning. This experience would be new, however. The idea of such an act being performed in front of your newly acquired companions, and the man you'd started to have feelings for, makes your brain fuzzy. Gods, they'd for sure say no. Maybe even leave you to find a cure for the wriggling parasite behind your eyes by yourself.

"Sounds like a wonderful show. She accepts." Astarion beams, his eyes fixed on you, scanning up and down as your heartbeat quickens further. "As long as we can stay and watch."

"Surely Shadowheart has some reservations about watching, right?" You ask with an air of desperation that's almost laughable.

She grins and places her hands on her hips, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Lady Shar would frown upon me if I were to miss something as deliciously torturous as this. Go on."

"Oh, I have something exquisite in mind." He rubs his hands together, a devilish grin smeared across his lips. It makes your core ache even more. "Disrobe, face the wall, and we can begin. And by the way.. You may call me Abdirak."

Disrobe? Gods, this was not on your list of things to do today. Kill some goblins? Sure. Save a wildshaped druid from death? Easy. This? This may be the most difficult thing you've ever done. Astarion waves a hand toward you, motioning for you to obey the Servant of Loviatar. Your confidence wavers for a moment. Not only are you about to willingly endure what is essentially torture, now you must do it.. Naked. You gulp and set your backpack down at your feet. First goes your boots, next your leather harness, your head turning to look at Astarion who is enamored by the sight of you slowly undressing, his back pressed against the cold stone wall. Another gulp. How embarrassing.. Shadowheart snickers quietly at your obvious discomfort. Trembling fingers struggle with the laces of your tunic and in a bout of frustration, you quickly tug it over your head. The white linen falls to the floor at your feet, your perky breasts bouncing ever so slightly from the rushed movements. A quiet sigh emits from Abdirak and he quickly looks to his table of various weapons, hand hovering over the selection.

You finally tug your leathers down past your knees, kicking them to the side with reckless abandon just to get it over with. Your lack of underwear earns a barely audible groan from both Astarion and Abdirak alike. Naked and exposed, you shiver, hands resting at your sides.

"Well, go on, darling. Don't be shy."

Astarion's words give you the final push to step forward. You face the wall as instructed and chew at your bottom lip as the human lifts a mace into his hands, turning it over to inspect its condition. A quiet "Yes.. This will do nicely." stoking your fire as you wait. Abdirak approaches you from behind, reaching down to guide your hands toward the wall, foot kicking between your ankles to spread your legs apart. The cold metal of his mace traces along your spine and you shudder, teeth chattering at its frosty bite. You wait with baited breath. Brace for the imminent kiss of pain. Abdirak rears back and lands a blow to your back hard enough to knock an involuntary yelp from your throat. Astarion chews the tip of his thumb, his right hand lowering to the front of his leathers to palm at his growing erection. The half elf stood close beside him eyes him carefully, and then you, arms crossing over her chest now, completely unamused.

"The pain you suffer will cleanse you. Do not fight it."

A loud sob follows Abdirak's words as you process the pain, blood trickling from a new gash on your skin. You beg for mercy, plead for the pain to stop, your knees nearly buckling beneath you. But this is only the first blow, there is so much more to come. Somewhere deep down inside, you're enjoying this. Your companions watching as you stand there, completely vulnerable, bloodied and bruised. Open to the elements and whomever wanted a taste. The human licks his lips.

"Your voice sounds so sweet, dear one. Keep going."

"Don't wear her out entirely, priest. We may have use for her yet." Shadowheart grins, eyes narrowing on your trembling frame.

Her mocking tone and underlying breathiness strikes an interesting chord with you. Exciting. Stimulating. Blood pumps in your ears - a deafening drum beat that only you can hear. You sway your hips to the rhythm and Astarion chews at his bottom lip, ready to pounce. Hunger burns in his stomach. Emptiness. Even though he'd fed on you just hours before, his mouth salivates like he's positively starved. He intends to devour you in one way or another.

Your tormentor rears back to land another blow, this time to your ass, and it nearly knocks you forward into the wall. You grit your teeth and stifle a scream and Astarion groans at your strained noises. He's enjoying this almost as much as you are, you're just much better at hiding it. Arousal soaks your folds. Your walls flutter around nothing and you chew your bottom lip to stifle a moan as Abdirak lands a third blow against your thigh. Nails dig into the stone bricks, almost bloodying your fingers. Gods, you want more. Need more. Abdirak takes a step back to admire his work, rubbing the tip of the mace up your inner thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. You whimper and he quirks an eyebrow. In a sudden change of mind, he swaps the mace for a paddle, little circles cut from the wood to increase the sensations. A quick smack earns a loud cry from your lips.

"That's it, dear one! Let Loviatar hear you!"

"Not the worst technique, priest. Good wrist movement. Lots of.. Enthusiasm." Shadowheart interjects again plainly.

Astarion continues to palm at his cock as he watches, eyes fixed solely on you. The way your blood bubbles up and trickles over your flesh. The scent of your arousal. It's the sweetest perfume and he can hardly control himself.

"You're being so good for him, darling. Keep going."

The vampire spawn's voice is breathy and low. You moan just from his words and Abdirak lands another smack to your opposite ass cheek, a large red print immediately surfacing and swelling on your skin. "Fuck!" You cry loudly. Tears sting in the corners of your eyes. The human grins and sets the paddle down, moving behind you to trace his fingers over each bruise, cut, and mark he'd left. Little trophies of devotion. His goddess will be pleased. You shiver at the contact of his fingers.

"Sweet child.. You bore the pain like a true believer. I am proud to have served you this penance."

"Th-Thank you.." You muster quietly, bottom lip still trembling at the threat of tears. "I enjoyed myself."

Abdirak tilts his head back and sighs heavily, one hand reaching down to trace over your bruises once more. His cock throbs beneath his garb and he presses a free hand into it, groaning at the friction.

"As did I, dear one. Loviatar herself found your performance.. inspiring."

He grins and steps to your side, leaning close to your ear. His breath is warm and smells of a metal. More goosebumps speckle your skin as he presses his lips to your pointed ear and whispers quietly.

"And on a personal note.. Thank you. That was positively divine. This doesn't have to be the end, however. You've proven yourself perfectly capable of accepting such exquisite pleasure. I'd love to show you so much more."

"She'd love that. May I assist?" Astarion murmurs, approaching the two of you with confidence.

Normally you'd be incredibly irritated by the vampire spawn speaking for you, but now, Gods you couldn't be more grateful. A cold hand cups your cunt suddenly and you jolt at the sensation, back arching forward as Astarion's middle finger presses just barely into your folds and against your clit.

"Mm. She's so wet for us."

Sharp teeth just barely pierce your shoulder, a sensation you've become all too used to ever since you discovered the pale elf's affliction. You'd let him feed on you when it was needed, and sometimes purely because you enjoyed how he'd hold you close to him. How he'd savor your taste and lick your skin clean. His sweet words of encouragement as he'd bite into another place. And the way he'd talk you through the dizziness once he was finished. Your brain whirs with arousal as Astarion coos quietly against your skin and presses little kisses to the now bleeding spot. He drags his fangs over your flesh with torturous slowness, exhaling heavily at the salty taste of your sweat and blood combined. The finger pressed to your clit begins moving in circles and you nearly fall apart right there. Your legs tremble. Toes curl against the stone beneath your feet. Abdirak picks up the paddle once more and eyes Astarion. They exchange a glance of approval and the paddle makes fiery contact with your skin once more, over the same swollen spot it had assaulted before.

A mix of pain and pleasure courses through every vein in your body and your vision goes white. You could cum at any moment. Another smack. And another. And another. Astarion lowers his hand from your cunt, landing a smack of his own against your folds and your knees nearly give out at the force.

"Gods, please.." you whimper loudly, head falling between your shoulders.

"Yes, beg for it, dear one. You're doing so well for us."

"What a good girl you are, darling."

Their combined praises is enough to push you over the edge, but you hold on tightly. You can't cum. Not yet. Astarion's fingers circle around your slick soaked slit, playing with the clear sticky fluid for a moment. One digit slides inside first and you whine loudly, hips pushing back against him.

"M-more.." you beg.

A second finger slides inside and stretches your entrance ever so slightly, the cold digits pressing firmly into that spongey spot that could stop your heart.

"More!" You cry, and both men behind you grin at your desperation.

Abdirak slides his index finger into his mouth to soak it with his spit before lowering it between your thighs, forcing it inside of you atop Astarion's hooked fingers. The stretch burns in the most delicious of ways.

"Please.. Please more.."

A second finger of Abdirak's slides inside and finally you're sated, hips bucking back against their hands rhythmically. Astarion kneels down and sinks his teeth into your left ass cheek, blood trickling from the flesh and down his chin as he sups of your nectar, his eyes rolling back in his skull. He can taste your orgasm building. Your arousal and desperation. Your every need and want. His fingers pump in and out of you with bruising speed and Abdirak follows suit, his free hand reaching around the front of your waist to pinch your clit between his thumb and index. He rolls the sensitive, swollen bud between his fingers and presses sloppy, open mouthed kisses down your bloodied ass and thigh, savoring the metallic tang of your blood and the sweetness of your sweat. A delectable treat for all of his senses. Your moans grow louder and louder, jaw hung open and drool falling from your mouth in a steady stream. An eager hand reaches up to shove itself into your mouth and cover itself in your spit before moving back to your clit, spreading the wetness around.

The knot in your belly grows tighter and tighter, wound like a bow string, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the near painful overstimulation of your slit. Still the fingers work furiously against your walls.

"I'm gonna - I need to - Gods please!"

"Ah ah ah, use your words, darling. What do you need?"

The spawn drags his tongue over the globe of your ass to clean the remainder of blood from your skin. A quiet groan escapes his lips and he stands again, free hand taking hold of your hair to stand you fully upright.

"I need to cum.. I'm gonna -"

Just as you're about to topple over the edge, both sets of fingers are pulled from your cunt, a thick rope of slick still connecting you with the two men standing behind you. You keen at the emptiness. Your walls squeeze and contract around nothing. Abdirak lands a hot smack against your clit, and then another, and another, grinning as you sob loudly at the strikes. His pulls his hand away reluctantly, slipping his slick covered digits into his mouth to suck them clean. Astarion flashes him a toothy grin.

"N-no please.. Please!"

All you can muster are pathetic pleas and raspy whines, your feet stomping in frustration against the dirty stone beneath you. Astarion's fingers wrap themselves around your throat from behind and yank your back against his front, the threat of his angry erection rubbing back and forth against your bruised ass. You're fully exposed. Vulnerable. Writhing and crying for release. Such a beautiful sight to the vampire spawn and the servant of Loviatar. This is torture.

"Shadowheart, my dear. Are you sure you're not interested in some fun?"

"I'd much prefer to watch, thank you."

The half elf smirks and leans against the wall, eyes scanning over the scene just a few feet away. Her eyes narrow on you and you can feel her gaze burning holes into the back of your head. Does she approve? Do you even care? Skilled fingers work the front of Astarion's leathers open and his cock springs up and out, a soft slap against your ass startling you from the heavy daze filling your head. Your brain feels like cold snow slush. Your legs are weak, growing weaker by the second as Astarion rubs the tip of his weeping cock against your hungry slit. You nearly pull him right in and he hisses at the tightness. The invitation. Abdirak lowers himself to his knees in front of you, both hands finding purchase on your hips to keep himself steady. Gentle kisses pepper your abdomen, hip bones, and your stubbly mound, a shiver running up your your spine at the warmth of his breath against your sex. You wiggle your hips, both to tease the vampire spawn behind you, and to beckon the human's lips toward the spot you need him most.

Without warning, Astarion slips inside. His size surprises you. The delicious burn of the stretch, how he's nearly in your guts before bottoming out. Gods, he's huge. A careful push of the hips nestles him fully inside and he waits there for a moment.

"By the nine hells, you're tight.." He murmurs, lips pressed tightly to your ear now.

Abdirak's tongue flattens against your clit and he lifts his head to slide it up and over your mound, repeating this same movement to go back down. His strokes are slow and calculated. The combination of sensations makes your legs tremble like leaves in the winter air, and your hands fly down to tangle in the human's hair and guide his head. With a tut, Astarion reaches around to quickly grasp your wrists and yank them behind your back - you're pinned in place, forced to submit to his quickening thrusts and the skilled swirling of Abdirak's tongue. Your frame bends forward just slightly at the force of the spawn's thrusts, your legs spreading further apart instinctively. Again, that familiar knot twists and tightens in your belly and surely you'll cum at any moment. Astarion's free hand moves your hair away from the side of your neck to expose the still-healing bite marks from just the night before. He lines his fangs up perfectly re-open the wounds and you hiss at the sting. Like shards of ice in your veins. Overcome by pleasure and blood loss, your vision goes fuzzy. Drool drips from your lips and down your chin. Positively cock drunk.

Not even a soft moan is able to escape now. Only heavy exhales and gasps making your lungs burn and your throat raw. Abdirak's tongue works with surprising artistry against your clit still, lips sucking and tugging at the bundle of nerves to earn any sounds he possibly can from you. The loud slap of skin against skin rings throughout the stone room. Surely the rest of the outpost could hear you. You're surprised you don't have an audience gathered in the door way, watching the way you're being devoured and fucked into oblivion. The vampire spawns teeth leave your neck with a soft slurp sucking the last little drops of your blood through the puncture wounds, his tongue swirling around his lips and teeth to collect the remnants. Astarion's thrusts begin to lose their rhythm and you can't help but grin as his cock twitches erratically inside of you. Abdirak quickly releases your clit from his swollen lips, ducking his head further to use his tongue on Astarion now. The tip of the human's tongue traces the furry outline of the vampire spawns sack before sucking one ball into his warm mouth, massaging it in his jaw. The he switches, and the primal growl that escapes Astarion makes your heart flutter.

"Fuck, I'm cumming! Oh gods, I'm cumming!" He groans loudly, nails digging harshly into the plush meat of your hips as he quickly pulls himself from your constricting walls and spills his seed onto the small of your back.

Your end draws near, Abdirak's fingers finding their way into your cunt with impressive speed. They hook forward into that perfect spot and you cry out loud, finally able to make some sort of noise. The spawn behind you rubs his softening cock against your ass, keeping a tight grip on your arms behind your back still. Quiet squelches and slurps from the human between your thighs make you grin. Disgusting. Cold hands keep a careful grip on your trembling body. One restraining your hands, the other wrapped tightly around your throat now, playing with the pressure against your arteries. First a soft squeeze. Then it builds, and your hearing muffles. Black spots invade your vision. The spawn releases, and all of it comes rushing back. You gasp loudly for air, lungs on fire. Playfully, he repeats this again and again - bringing you to the brink of unconsciousness then quickly yanking you back. Soft coos and words of praise work you up to your climax.

"Such a good girl. So obedient. You like that, don't you? You like when I tell you how good you are?"

You nod in agreeance, unable to speak. Words feel foreign on your tongue. Your mouth is dry now, like you've filled it with linen. Still your end builds. Loud cries, sobs, and screams alert all of Faerun of your pleasure. You should be embarrassed. Ashamed, even. But you couldn't care less. Not now. You nearly topple over the precipice of pure ecstasy when suddenly.. The feeling disappears. Abdirak moves back from his original spot. Your cunt aches. Empty. A soft whimper escapes you and your head falls back against Astarion's broad shoulder.

"You thought we were going to let you cum? Little love.. How naïve."

His words sting like bees. Little Love. The degradation should upset you. Should ruin whatever arousal you have left. But it doesn't. If anything, it adds oil to the fire. You're more wet than ever. Heat rises in your ears and the tips turn a bright red, your fists balling up behind you in frustration as you try and wiggle out of his grasp. Through gritted teeth, you growl. A pathetic performance, on your part. Abdirak stands before you and circles his index finger over both of your nipples, smirking at you with half lidded eyes as each one perks up.

The half elf across the room giggles in amusement.

"Positively cruel."

"Patience, dear one.. You'll meet your end soon enough."

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #abdirak #abdirak smut #abdirak x tav #astarion #shadowheart #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion x tav x abdirak

212 notes · View notes

bloodyinkandquill · 3 months ago

Text

Scythe x Reader NSFW

my first scythe request and it’s nsfw, sounds about right lmao, hope this is good!

- D/V/S: If you think this woman is a sub your an idiot, she’s a hard dom no argument about it

- T/S/B: I feel like she’s a switch, specifically with a preference for topping but she can bottom, either way she’s still the dom don’t get it twisted

- More common kinks: Very into degradation, again she is the degrader not the degradee, maybe every once in awhile but for the most part she prefers to do it towards you, into lingerie, like very into it, seeing you in it instantly gets her in the mood, only problem is she practically rips it off of you so you keep having to buy new ones because she’s too eager and turns it to shreds, you give her an annoyed look every time but she just laughs and caries on, loves covering you in hickies and bites, she doesn’t care if they can be seen, honestly she loves when others can see them

- Medium kinks: Overstimulation, oh my gods she loves overstimulating you, that dazed look in your eyes all thanks to her makes her feel so good, she fucking loves eating you out/sucking you off, especially overstimulating you while doing so, makes her feel powerful and it’s pretty easy to her so that’s a plus, choking you is also something she’s into, she understands if your not and won’t if you ask her not to but if you are alright with it she loves wrapping her fingers around your throat and squeezing, she’s definitely researched how to safely choke someone so no risk of injury, definitely would enjoy scenes of hate sex, the roughness and anger behind it all, even if fake, turns her on so much, you two thoroughly discuss it before hand, same with any sort of scene you wanna do and even talking about it makes her excited

- I’m not sure which category to put these in kinks: Religion kink, enough said, you worshipping her or referring to her as religious names, she loves it, if she’s bottoming she also very much enjoys riding you, again she’s in control here, and if she is riding you she makes sure you don’t move at all, she decides how this goes, your under her she makes the decisions here, into light bondage, just tying up your hands or maybe a collar and leash every once in awhile, she’s very good at tying the knots for it and enjoys testing them out on you, to then use on her victims later, speaking of scenes of you playing her victim who says they’ll do anything to live, it’s completely consensual and you can opt out any time but she’s definitely into that kind of scene

Aftercare: She’s really good about aftercare, cuddles galore, unfortunately sometimes she has to go quickly so she can’t fully fulfill all the stuff she wants to do but it’s alright, she makes sure to clean your injuries and praise you for how good you are, especially after scenes she’s very concerned with your well being for them, cleaning you up with a gentleness you literally only see during aftercare, no other time

yippee, wahoo, EEEEE

#x reader #phighting #phighting x reader #phighting!#scythe x reader #phighting scythe x reader #scythe x reader phighting #freaky

54 notes · View notes

darkdoverpseeker · 1 year ago

Note

hi ! 24f looking for some new writing partners on discord :] please be 21+ , and match my energy when it comes to plotting and interacting . i like gushing about our ships and plot, making edits , and pinterest boards if i'm invested :] im a semi-literate to literate writer, and also like doing back and forth and texting threads . my activity fluctuates , but i'm a laid back partner and i like talking ooc . i gravitate towards f/f ships but i also like f/m ships if the plot is good and exciting. i love angst and drama and intense romance . i write smut with muns im comfortable with and have plotted with . possible 🕊️ tw depending on what kind of things you're interested in!

currently wanting : oc x oc fandomless , or fandom roleplays (oc x cc or cc x cc ) . any ship are up for discussion .

fandoms : the vampire diaries , legacies, the originals , twilight , yellowjackets , the boys & gen v .

things i like !

gothic romance . monster romance ( vampires , werewolves , etc ) . historical / period. medium to high fantasy . scifi . dystopia . survival games . horror movie tropes . celebrity and musician verses . soulmates . exes . rich people drama . seasonal plots ( so rn im in a halloween mood! ) and more :]

if you're interested please like this .

like if interested!

#1x1 rp #fandomless rp #the boy roleplay #the boys rp #twilight rolepay #twilight rp #yellowjackets roleplay #yellowjackets rp #fandom rp #dead dove #dead dove do not eat #21+#semi lit rp #literate rp #rp #roleplay

89 notes · View notes

after-dark-musings · 6 months ago

Text

Another knotty boy for the collection 😌😍

Got paid nicely this week and decided to finally get myself a m/m Snug from Naughty Fox Toys! I had been eyeing this pour for a while, having seen it in the promotional photo, and I was just so pleased to find that it was still there!

I was torn between it and the blizzard edition pour below (still available, and also m/m, btw!), but ultimately picked the desert fox pour for more color variety in my collection.

I do love the BD s/s Razor I recently got, but it's just a smidge bigger and softer than I would like. After going through many different brands' canine models looking at size measurements and firmness option, I decided to get Snug. Technically being a butt plug version of Naughty Fox's model Fuxi, it is shorter and proportionally thicker than most other knotted toys (4.9" usable length and 6.7" circumference knot in medium size), making it a much better fit for my fairly shallow vaginal canal.

I should be able to fully hilt it comfortably, whereas small Razor's 6.25" usable length pushes my limits just enough to piss off my cervix when I take the knot. Said knot, at 7" circumference and in soft firmness, is filling but not distinct enough for my liking. Hence picking the slight smaller knot on Snug but in medium firmness.

I also liked the idea of being able to wear it as a v-plug, with the slim base. I've yet to have a toy than I can actually just keep inside of myself while doing other things, or even just sit on without the knot slipping out. So, over all, I'm super excited for Snug!

#text #image #after:text #after:png #nsft text #dongblr #nsft pics #silicone toys #spicy silicone #fantasy toys #bad dragon #d0ggy kn0t #kn0tting #kn0ttybaby #monster fucker #terato

29 notes · View notes

hotdilfs11 · 1 year ago

Text

Mafia Boss-Thomas Shelby x Reader pt5

Rest of the parts

✩summary: The Shelby knew this girl when she was very little. However, when her mother passed away (at 16) everything changed and everyone drifted away from each other. Now after seven years Veronica is a mafia boss in her fathers business. Her father sent her to Birmingham on business, will this play off well?

✩pairings:girl named Veronica(POC) x Thomas Shelby

✩warnings: Alcohol, lots of cursing

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

I was sitting in a cafe, drinking coffee, and having a meeting with the known leader of the Peaky Blinders, Thomas Shelby. The cafe had a dark, cozy vibe to it. It had dark brown chairs and off-white floors. The cafe had a little green color to it while keeping that cozy and mysterious feeling. I was sitting at one of the tables by the window while I observed the people going by outside as the cars and buses passed us at a speedy pace. I had my legs crossed as the dark-colored, bitter liquid slid down my throat in a medium-sized white mug. I was wearing an all-black fitted suit with black basic heels. After I was done sipping my bittersweet coffee, I placed it down on a glossy wooden table, looking up at Tommy in a dominant way. "Did you do what I asked of you, Mr. Shelby?" I say as I fasten my hands together, patiently waiting for his answer. He looked at me with a cold, somber expression, looking into my deep hazel eyes for a minute. Butterflies started to flutter in my stomach as I felt his piercing blue eyes run up and down my body.

"Yes, I did, Miss Hawthorn," he said while making eye contact with me.

I broke the unbearable eye contact as I took a sip of my coffee; however, I still felt his desirable and desperate eyes waiting for me. I looked up at him. "Well, okay, Mr. Shelby, you're free to leave," I said in a nonchalant tone.

"No," he demanded as he started to lean on the table, getting closer to me. "I still want my answer, love."

I look at him in disbelief, and I let out a chuckle. "Now, Thomas, you know what I said," I say with a smirk on my face. I looked at him while he started nodding his head, breaking eye contact with me. He rubbed his face in frustration while staring out the window. We were in silence for a second, and all I hear is people chattering and laughing inside the cafe.

Tommy looked at me after a second of silence. "Okay, Miss Hawthorn, see you at the party." He said this while standing up as he was about to leave, and I blurted out, "Are you mad?"

He shook his head and said "no" in a cheery tone as he walked away from me and out the door.

2 DAYS LATER

It was the night of Tommy's ball, and I just finished getting ready for tonight. I was wearing a long, elegant, promiscuous burgundy dress that hugged tight around all of my curves. It was a v-neck, cross-back satin dress. I had black high-heeled pumps on, and I put on one of my diamond rings, which my father bought for me, as I grabbed my black clutch.

I walked downstairs, got into my car, and went off to Tommy's party. I was nervous and frustrated, but I was also excited in a way. I kind of wanted to see Tommy, even though I promised myself I shouldn’t date him, but I couldn’t contain my feelings in this forbidden safe anymore. I wanted Tommy so badly, and I don’t know how to control myself around him, but then I start to realize how this can affect everything that's going on in my life. I try to push these thoughts out of my mind, but I can’t.

I was at Thomas Shelby's house. The door swung open, revealing Dante in a suit and tie, reaching out his hand. I took his hand and stepped out of the car in a sharp motion. I looked at Dante and told him thank you as I started walking towards the door with him by my side. I walked proudly and confidently with my head held high, and each step I took inside this house made a thunderous roar that echoed down the hallways.

I got to the ballroom, and it was classy, lively, and gloriously gorgeous. I walked in and got offered a glass of champagne from a waiter in a tux. I nodded my head at him and moved on, trying to find Tommy. I started scanning the room and walking around, and then I saw him. I got excited and tense; I felt like a teenage girl all over again, with butterflies in their stomachs and forever blushing. As I started inching towards him, I noticed that he was with someone in a blush pink dress and a white fluffy shaw over her shoulders. She had blond hair and a petite build. I looked down at where Tommy's hand was, and it was on the small of her back. They were laughing, talking, and looking into each other's eyes like some cringy high school couple. My eyebrows furrowed as I started to regret my choice. But right now I was envious of how he looked at her; I was insecure about how I dressed, but then I felt possessive over Tommy. I wanted him more than ever now, and I craved him deeply.

I stood there frozen, unable to move, until I saw the open bar and marched right up to it, not feeling as confident or as proud, but I had to keep a good look. I started to sit down on the slightly comfortable chair while asking the bartender for a bourbon. I basically started drinking my jealousy away and all the problems I had leading up to now. I didn’t want to think or feel; I just wanted to not care about anything or anyone.

As I sat there at the bar, I felt a familiar presence creep up on me. I turn around to see that John has a serious look on his face. "Veronica, what the bloody hell are you doing?" he said in an aggressive tone. I looked at him in a cold, stubborn way, not caring about anyone.

"Oh, look at it, John!" I said it in a happy tone as a big, drunken smile appeared on my face.

"Veronica, are you fucking drunk?" he said as he squinted his eyes in confusion.

I remained in eye contact with him and still had a big smile on my face. "No, John, I’m not fucking drunk. I’m okay, your okay, and Tommy is doing more than okay," I pointed to Tommy, and then I stopped making eye contact with John as I looked into my sad, bitter drink. I tried to take a sip of the fiery liquid until John snatched it right out of my hand.

"What the fuck, John?" I say this in fury, but he didn’t care how I was feeling; he just didn’t want to see me like this.

"Is this because of Grace and Tommy?" He pointed at them in anger.

I kept my head up, unable to look John in the eye. I was scared to show emotion around him or anyone at all. I felt weak.

"Veronica, look at me," John said as he inched closer to my face.

I slurred my words. "What do you want me to say, John? I feel fucking horrible." I paused for a moment, trying to collect my useless thoughts together. "And then Tommy wants to bring this

fucking blond bitch as his fucking date, so now what, John, what the fuck do you want me to do about it, huh?" I stared at him as I felt heartless.

"You look amazing, V, honest."

I brushed off his compliment as I looked down at the table again until I felt John's strong yet soft hands pick up my chin to look at him. "Let's make him jealous, shall we?".

I smirked as I toyed with the idea for a second. I can already see Tommy getting so jealous and angry that it makes me excited. I told John, Okay, as I started to stand up from the stool. I was kind of tipsy, but not tipsy enough for anyone to notice. I stood up beside John as he wrapped his rough hand around my waist, pulling me close to him. I was surprised that John was so gentle with his hands. I sink into him as we start walking in the crowd towards Tommy. Me and John had our heads held high and were proudly walking through the ballroom until we reached Tommy. He was talking to someone with his date strapped to his side.

Tommy's eyes widened when he saw me say, "Veronica!"

He sounded so excited to see me. He introduced me and John to one of his old friends. I greeted them with a hello, and John shook his hand roughly.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, Ronnie, this is my date, Grace," he said as he pointed to her. I painted a fake smile on my face. "Hello, Grace," I said kindly.

As I was saying hi to Grace, John started to move his hand up and down my back, sending a chill through my body.

"Is this your date, Veronica?" Grace said it innocently.

"Yes, it is. This is Tommy's brother, John Shelby," I say with a smirk on my face.

John generously greeted her as he grew more touchy with me, trying to get Tommy a little bit more angrier than he already is.

He saw John's hand slide up and down my back in a playful motion. Tommy grew furious, and you can tell it on his face. John pulled me closer to him as I took in his earthy and sweet, comforting scent while feeling his warm body up against mine while I started to sink into John's body. Tommy's body starts to tense up while he's witnessing what's happening right in front of his eyes. I looked up and down Tommy's body, pleased by his reaction towards me and John.

"Oh wow, I didn’t know you guys were dating; you should’ve told me Thomas”, Grace announced with her cheeky and irritating voice. She looked at Tommy and playfully hit him on the chest. Tommy shrugged his shoulders, not even catching a glimpse of Grace; however, he remained his eyes on me and John. Being witty, I looked up at John. He looked down at me in a flirtatious way as he started to gently wrap his arm around my neck, trying to piss Tommy off a

lot more. As he was wrapping his arm around me, I grabbed his hand and started to lock fingers with him.

In a cold manner, Thomas said, "Ronnie, can I speak to you for a moment, please?"

"Of course, Mr. Shelby." I smiled. John let go of me, and I looked at him and said, "I’ll be back, love."

He nodded and gave me a half-grin as I started to walk with Tommy. He was walking on the side of me as we both walked out of the ballroom and away from all of these people. After we were out of people's sight, Tommy grabbed my arm and started to walk me to his office. I could see a tint of red forming on his cheeks and his ears from anger. I was thrilled that I got a reaction from him; however, I was worried about how he was going to react to me. I gasped, trying to slip out of his hold, but his grip got tighter and tighter as he pulled me into his office. "What the fuck, Tommy?" I quietly yelled, knowing there were a lot of people outside that could hear me. Tommy started walking towards his desk while I was still standing by the door. He turned around, facing me, and stopped in his steps. "What are you playing at?" he asked while making heavy eye contact with me.

"I don’t know what you're talking about." I said it with an innocent tone.

"Why were you all over John?"

"Maybe because you brought a girl as your fucking date even though you were the one who invited me here," I said, folding my arms tightly.

"But that's my fucking brother Veronica, are you serious?" The room echoed from his voice as he started to yell louder.

I scoffed in frustration, then I looked away from Tommy in anger. We stood in silence as I gathered my thoughts.

I uncrossed my arms and looked back at Tommy, but he turned away from me, unable to look at me.

"Why does it matter anyway?"Your brother has his own life, and so do I just worry about your own and Grace, okay?" I urged as I stepped towards him.

He looked at me in disbelief, unable to even process what just came out of my mouth.

"BECAUSE I WANT YOU, VERONICA, I’VE BEEN SAYING THIS!" he shouted.

My eyes widened. "IF YOU WANT ME TOMMY, THEN FUCKING SAY IT AND STOP BLOODY TOYING WITH ME." I exclaimed in uncertainty. I noticed that we were too loud, so I tried to calm myself down by taking a deep breath. I was tired of emotion, and I couldn’t handle any of this.

Tommy sighed in frustration. "Your the one whos fucking toying with me, Ronnie... You are the one who said it was bad for business." Tommy lowered his voice, but you can still hear the anger and bass in his voice.

"Ronnie, I love you. Not Grace, not anyone, only you," he said as his voice softened up. He stared, inching closer and closer to him.

I scoffed harshly. "No, you don't." I stepped back from him and crossed my arms. "This is exactly why... fuck”, I muttered under my breath.

"Why what, Veronica?" he asks as he gets closer to me, urging to know my next words. I went silent, not wanting to answer him, but he just kept getting closer to me, knowing that was my weakness. I felt his body heat jump off of him when he got closer to me. I can smell his comforting scent as he starts to cup my face gently. I looked into his eyes, and he seemed sincere and desperate.

I tried not to sink into his touch or get lost in his eyes. "No, Tommy! I fucking can't." I pushed away from him harshly. He tumbled back a little, but he still wanted me more and more.

A single tear fell down my cheek, but I whipped it away quickly as I tried to leave. When I grabbed the door knob, Tommy's rough hand grabbed me, but I yanked it away quickly.

"Tommy… I can’t keep waiting for you anymore. I have things to do, and I cannot wait for you to show these feelings. I just can’t." I said it in a cold yet demanding voice as I walked out the door.

32 notes · View notes

mrbensonmum · 8 months ago

Text

TV Show - CSI: Las Vegas V

Currently, I'm watching the episode "Fight Night" S3E7, quite far along considering when I started, but it's running, just like the other series, always in the background once I'm home. It would be terrible if it were also running in the office!

What have we been through? In "Stalker" S2E19, Nick gets quite a beating, and this is even though we know that the Tarantino double episode is still to come, where Nick will get more than just a beating. The two actors who played the medium and the killer are incredibly distinctive; you've seen them in many series, mostly in individual episodes. Doug Hutchison has also made it to the big screen and appeared in The Green Mile (1999) and Punisher: War Zone (2008). But Leland Orser is certainly not unknown; he has movies like Alien 4 (1997), Seven (1995), and The Bone Collector (1999) under his belt. Both actors belong to the second tier but play at the forefront, and I'm always excited to see either of them.

"Anatomy of a Lye" S2E21 was also quite interesting, as we see a very young Mr. Spock, also known as Zachary Quinto. And yes, don't worry, I know this is the Mr. Spock of the modern era. Leonard Nimoy, as far as I know, does not appear in CSI, but who knows, maybe the series will prove me wrong.

Otherwise, the end of the second season is relatively calm; there are no major cliffhanger episodes yet, and I sincerely hope it stays that way for a while longer. Even though I can watch everything back-to-back, I still find such episodes quite exhausting.

Fortunately, Catherine's attitude has eased up; it's not as frequent, but when it happens, it's more intense. People are just being chewed out without her even introducing herself, and nobody knows who she is or what she wants. If someone talked to me that way, I'd react the same. Unbelievable level of arrogance, but well, I guess it's something I have to live with. I didn't want to mention it anymore, but this strange behavior towards Horatio in the last episode of the second season just doesn't sit right. It's a different jurisdiction, for goodness' sake! And those who come at me with "Yes, but she's a strong woman, has to assert herself… BLA BLA BLA!" Yes, she's the strong woman in the series, but a strong woman also asserts herself through respect for others, regardless of their position, and doesn't belittle others to highlight herself.

Despite the calm towards the end of the second season, we also saw the backdoor pilot episode of CSI: Miami, as briefly mentioned earlier. I like Miami, even though I can't handle the overly candied stylishness for too long. It's an interesting bunch that, after watching several seasons of CSI: Las Vegas, is quite refreshing. Yes, I didn't last very long on my last rewatch, but I think if it were available to stream, it would be different (I only have the first half of the first season on DVD).

Now that I think about it, the last episode of the second season is quite interesting because it examines the madness of the beauty ideal. And back then, there was already MySpace, but nowhere near the level of social media we have today. How would such an episode look under today's circumstances? After all, we not only have the modeling industry but also everything else like social media and various services that I don't want to mention here.

#csi #csi las vegas #crime scene investigation #nick stokes #catherine willows #gil grissom #warrick brown #sara sidle #greg sanders #csi vegas #csi lv #tvshow #tv show #tv shows

7 notes · View notes

starlightandetherealshadows · 1 year ago

Note

ROs hobbies?

Hi lovebug! ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

I was SO excited for this ask, I love talking about the RO's hobbies and life outside of this hellish invasion. I've mentioned some of this stuff before, but I like having it all in one place. So thank you, sweet one! -`♡´-

♡ Ayana/Adriel:

A is a talented mechanic. When they had free time (rare for doctors but ya know), they would work on fixing cars. They have a motorcycle that is their pride and joy. It was going to the scrapyard, but A decided to pour time and money into getting it in working condition. I mentioned this before but A loves reading mangas and watching anime! A will blush if you talk about this, but A was a theater kid. They can't sing, but they used to act their asses off in the school plays. A is into rock-climbing!

♡ Zero:

Both male and female Zero grew up doing ballet and gymnastics. And they were good at it, like really fuckin good. Zero used to get bullied in school quite a lot, esp male Zero bc the whole "ballet is for girls" nonsense :( They can also sing (but they're shy about it) and they're a talented artist. Painting is their favorite art medium, but they also use their sketchpad a lot when they don't feel like getting paint everywhere. Z is good with little magic tricks involving sleight of hand (considering they used to make a living conning people....)

♡ Veronica/Vincent:

V is a classically trained cellist, but they don't have a cello on them, unfortunately. They're a voracious reader, which they bond with X over. V doesn't have their driver's license, so they used to skateboard everywhere. V did martial arts for many years, and has a plethora of gold medals and trophies from it. V likes photography too, and was on the cross country team in high school.

(of course, with V's memory loss, they can't remember much of this. It's a fuzzy memory of having certain skillsets, like riding a bike after years and realizing that you still know how)

♡ Cecelia/Chase:

C used to work in a bakery, so you can imagine how good their house used to smell. Other than baking, they used to collect baseball cards with their father and play baseball/softball themselves (D1, they're talented!) C can do tiny stick and poke tattoos. C knows how to do origami! They leave little paper objects and animals all over the safehouses, much to the amusement of the others. They know how to surf from summers spent on the beach.

♡ Xa'eks/Xa'veed:

X is really good at archery. They used to have little competitions with their siblings back on Nion 8. They're also really into plants and bugs, collecting and identifying them. When they first landed on Earth, X was so excited to explore and catalogue all the different types of foliage/insect life. X has quite the blooming garden in the alien's central city. They love classic literature. You can find X and V having heated literature debates that may involve screaming and cursing and threats of violence. X also loves board games and was fascinated by the idea of Monopoly. X likes puzzles, and that's how they passed time while waiting for, you know, their conquer-Earth orders for the day.

*see now I HAVE to write about the group playing a game of monopoly together.*

Thank you again for the fun question, anon!!!

All my love,

Cheye

#choicescript #choice of games #cog #ask: css #ask: answered #ask: RO

27 notes · View notes

yermes · 2 months ago

Text

POOKIE! You are going to be so many amazing things that having a man make or break you is a huge FUCKING NO!!!!! 🍾🪽🦷🫖💡

I hope you are diabolical today pookie

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

Pick a meme

123

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

I made a substack to keep up more with magical post overall but would you like more magic based posts here too? To be clear I will basically keep the same content from site to site I just want to announce a change in language essentially with more magical based posts I may have

I also just want to make magic as a whole accessible and I love to talk so YK

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

Socials: TipJar | Follow me!

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

The cards

**IX of wands 🦉 REVERSED**

I get the need to want someone because your inner thoughts and imposter syndrome is violently loud. But pookie you cannot find peace from external resources, true happiness and understanding of being must come from within before you can attempt to understand it from without. You need to feel the negative emotions and over come it because you are a strong lady with the capacity of saving oneself without projecting it on a man who lets be real would probably only make a situation worst bc like have you met a man???

**IV of wands 🎡 REVERSED**

People don’t understand your trials, tribulations, struggles, hopes, dreams, and accomplishments quite like you do. Be joyful in everything you have accomplished because pookie bear you have done so much, the people in your life highlight you but they do not define you. Being w man would not define you all that you are as an individual is what does.

**V of swords ☕️ REVERSED**

If there was a man it looks like you are recovering, you must not let this man define you and maybe some good old feminine urge revenge is in order. Deep fry his clothes, print out his nudes and put them in his grandmas mail box, make yourself feel better because shitty dudes is not what you should be tearing yourself down over. Tear them down as revenge and have them fearing what the true feminine energy is.

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

Extras:

Story/vent: be diabolical today u deserve it

↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ↟ ⋆ ❅↟ ⋆ ❅↟

44 notes · View notes

girldragongizzard · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 5: The bird and the dragon

By the time Chapman arrives at my table at the coffee shop, I have a very nice sentence planned out for hir, and hir alone. So, I send it via direct message, and sie receives it as sie is sitting down with a huge cookie in hand.

“How can you blow off work so easily and frequently?” I ask. It’s not important, it’s just that private.

Sie pulls out hir phone, wrinkles hir nose at it and chuckles, then types a one word response into it with hir thumb, “Magic.”

“I not feel,” I shoot back. “Only scan.”

“Is that so?” sie responds, and then put hir phone down and starts unwrapping the cookie, a smirk on hir face.

Rhoda has been watching this whole exchange laconically, and now she’s shaking her head just a little as she raises her tea to her lips.

I’ve skipped over the best part in order to focus on that conversation, because the conversation is important.

But Chapman cannot enter the cafe without both Kims shouting, “Chapman!” upon seeing hir. And so everyone knows when sie has entered the building. And today was no exception. That happened.

What is also happening is Chapman’s latest outfit.

Sie is wearing a tight white v-neck T-shirt, which shows off just how immaculately flat hir chest is, with the word “Other” Sharpied onto it. Over that is a black fishnet tulle shawl with black lace trim that must have been homemade, because I can’t imagine it being sold even at Hot Topic. And then there’s the black tutu with rainbow sparkles in it, black fishnet stockings, and hir signature decorated Doc Martens. Sie’s also wearing a purse, socks, and fingerless gloves that are the same deep magenta as hir sidecut pompador.

With hir eclectic and arcane looking set of tattoos, the whole effect is… that.

Where Rhoda is fairly tall and with a medium build, Chapman is short and fat and lumpy. And they are both supremely confident in their presences. And I am thrilled to have them both in my life.

I get excited in a nearly disastrous way whenever the two of them are sitting at the same table with me. Even though both of them have assured me that they each see themselves as maybe being part of some kind of partnership with me given time and getting to know each other better, I still feel more anticipation and anxiety than I should, more vibrating giddiness rising in my gut toward my heart and gizzard.

They’re humans and I’m a dragon, but I feel like we could be a really powerful team for Cool Things in the world. As if we aren’t already.

Well, Rhoda is a human. Chapman says sie isn’t but won’t explain further. None of us are the same species, but we’re friends.

Anyway, once Chapman is settled and has hir drink, I slowly type out the simple sentence, “Ask me about my trip.”

Rhoda starts by filling Chapman in about what I’d told her so far, and then between the two of them they’re able to ask me enough yes-or-no or one-word-answer questions that my story gets told to them in detail without me getting overly frustrated with my tablet. And I get to drink my mocha at a reasonable pace.

I do prompt them unasked a couple times to get better questions about details.

Rhoda, the whole time, takes notes on her own phone.

When Kim or Kimberly ask questions or want to be filled in after dealing with a line of customers, Rhoda tells them she’ll be sending the story to our group via a document file. They both seem pleased by this.

But, when lunch time rolls around and Jill and Cerce come in to take their shifts, the Kims both join us at my table, so Rhoda pushes her phone toward them. And side by side, they read her notes.

“Oh. Oh, wow,” Kim says.

“This part’s bad ass,” Kimberly says, pointing at the screen. “Especially the part where you told them to fuck off.”

“We do have to wonder, though,” Kim says. “If the state decides to continue to recognize your personhood, then will they charge you with vandalism and assault?”

“Those chucklefucks get to be charged with kidnapping, then,” Kimberly says.

“True,” Kim agrees. “But then there’s the question of who’s got the money for court and lawyers.”

“Damn.” Kimberly looks at Chapman, “And you say it’s Säure behind this?”

Chapman tightens hir lips and nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“He’s probably just gonna get another helicopter too, anyway,” Kimberly says. “If he doesn’t already have one.”

Chapman shrugs and I huff.

“I think,” Rhoda says, “that Meg here has shown that that tactic isn’t going to be very efficient. If he wants to keep going that route of clearing dragons from Fairport, he’s going to need to throw a lot more resources at the project. And maybe even get the government involved. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the failure was part of the plan. To learn something, or demonstrate something.”

“Mmm,” Kim intones.

“Shit, yeah,” Kimberly acknowledges.

I can’t say I didn’t think of that, a fleeting realization while on the wing, but I hate hearing it. Coming from Rhoda, who goes out of her way, and pushes beyond her own personal boundaries, to connect with different people and make sure that they get to know each other – with the amount of thought she puts into everything – it’s a chilling confirmation of suspicions.

Obviously, the true confirmation will be what Säure’s company, Equisetum Wildlife, does next.

While I’m trying to come up with something I can add easily to the conversation, I see conspicuous movement out of the corner of my eye and focus on it.

A slight person dressed in a black duster, black jeans, nondescript black shoes, black everything, with long dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, sits in the easy chair that used to be my favorite back in the far corner of the room. They’re drinking tea with a pinky stuck out. It’s a gesture that doesn’t look like it fits them. Like they’re doing it specifically on purpose to get attention.

When my head naturally whips their direction, it cues everyone else to look, too.

They smile at us, and Chapman frowns, and my head twitches to focus on both of them.

I’m in the middle and my wide field of vision accommodates. In one eye, I watch the stranger watch us, while in the other eye I watch Chapman sit up more straight and consider them.

If I really pay attention to what my vision looks like, I can tell my eyes really distort the images, like fisheye lenses on a camera. But that’s not really how my brain parses what I see, and I’m really focused on what’s happening at the moment.

Chapman works hir mouth, but doesn’t say anything, and everyone else is quiet, waiting for the stranger to say something.

Which they do, in a deep voice that sounds like a single dry mountain rock, “I can tell them what you are, if you can’t, Chapman.”

Chapman’s frown deepens and then sie says, “Why would you do that?”

The entire cafe is paying attention to all of us, now. This is a moment. And I can only imagine how tense it’s making Chapman. I can see some of the tension pulling the muscles of hir frame taught.

The stranger shrugs, “It might be useful to you. All you have to do is ask. In any case, I’m a fan. So only if you want me to.”

“I think I’ve got it covered, thanks,” Chapman says.

There’s a nod, and the mountain rock says, “Very well. I’ll tell them what I am.”

“I can’t stop you.”

The tea gets set down on a low side table, and the stranger sits up more straight and scoots to the edge of the seat, tilting their head and looking at me specifically. I don’t think that face has known a smile. They say, “I am Ptarmigan. You’ll have to excuse the all black, it’s a disguise I’ve found very useful. She/her, but I guess I don’t expect anyone to stick to that. It’d be nice if you did, though.”

“Chapman, sie/hir,” Chapman says, as if sie doesn’t know this person. Maybe sie doesn’t.

“Meg,” I say.

The others remain silent.

Ptarmigan looks around the cafe at the other customers briefly, and says, “Ah.”

There aren’t really all that many. Just four other people. But with our table of five and Ptarmigan in the room, too, it does feel a little crowded.

“Whatever,” Ptarmigan says, focusing back on me. “I’m an Artist. As in, literally, that’s what I am. I work primarily in ballpoint pen on scrap paper, but I can do some pretty cool shit with it. And I’m speaking up because I’ve been listening to your conversation and I think knowing what I am and what I can do might be helpful. If you want, I can tell you where I think I come from, too.”

I look at Chapman, who has also described hirself as an artist. Presumably, Chapman was using the term obliquely, to avoid giving away what sie really was, sticking to the letter of a vow of secrecy sie had made. At one point, sie had told us to pretend that sie was “a Gandalf”, so I’ve been thinking of hir as a wizard, as a species or type of being. But Ptarmigan had just used that word with a special emphasis that made it sound like the correct term. Like it really did mean something more than just making art.

Chapman relaxes with what looks like, to my eye, resignation, and slumps back in hir seat. Rhoda looks over at hir and touches hir arm. Chapman looks at her, and Rhoda gives a small smile.

Chapman shakes hir head.

“In any case,” Ptarmigan says. “You should also know that Artists don’t walk only amongst humans. That’s important. Can I join you?”

There’s very little room at this table, and I’m not sure any of us have become comfortable enough with her to agree to it. But, then I wonder if she’s asking about the table specifically.

I look at each of the others in question, and get a mix of shrugs and shaken heads.

Then, instead of saying anything, I look directly at the nearest stool at the bar near our table.

There’s a dividing wall between the lobby and the dining room, with a bar on either side of it, and a glassless window frame in it so you can see through it clearly, and people on either side of it can talk. Our table is at the end of the wall, in the large doorway between the two spaces.

Then I look back at Ptarmigan.

What I get from her looks like a quarter of a smile, almost. Then she gets up and makes her wave over to the stool, carrying her teat with her, and settles on it, leaning back a little so as not to get in anyone’s personal space. Her elbow is on the bar. Her tea is resting on the surface in front of that hand.

I do find myself wondering invasively if she’s intersex, or if she’s trans and on either estradiol or testosterone. And I remind myself that it’s really none of my business. In any case, she’s extremely gender non-conforming by white colonialist standards. She even has a bit of stubble.

There’s something about her gruff but relaxed manner and her presentation that puts me more at ease than I want to be, considering her choice of conversation. And I would guess that everyone else is feeling similar.

The rest of the customers of the cafe turn back to their own business, but I feel like they’re still paying some attention.

Jill and Cerce are watching from behind the counter with wide, dear-like eyes, both. Another customer is leaning on the counter, also watching. But then they turn and say something about their order.

I’m very pointedly not going to say “yes” or “okay” or anything like that until another question is asked. So I knuckle my tablet to utter something else, “Talk.”

Ptarmigan chuckles and glances at Chapman, then says in a lower voice, “There’s a real problem in this town, in the world, really, and it goes further back than anyone wants to admit. I want to admit it. So I’m going to tell you exactly what I am and where I came from, OK?”

Chapman looks at her and says, “I thought you’d already done that. Just now.”

“Yes. I’m Ptarmigan, and I’m an Artist,” she says. “I know the Johnny Cash look comes off as more of a crow or raven, but that’s sort of the point. I am hiding just a little. It doesn’t matter. There’s more.”

“You do keep beating around that bush, though,” Rhoda supplies, eyeing Chapman as she says it.

“I do,” Ptarmigan says. “I guess I’m working up the courage.”

I huff.

“Would you like some coffee?” Kim asks. “Maybe it will help.”

“Thank you, no,” Ptarmigan replies. “I quite like the tea. But no. Listen. Artists have been on this planet longer than humanity. Possibly longer than life itself. Though I’m not really sure how that would work. We might look like one kind of animal or another, here and there, including humans, but we’re not. Not anymore than dragons are. But the important thing here is that humanity wouldn’t exist without us Artists, and neither would dragons. That’s key. Remember it.”

“Okay,” I say.

Chapman pinches the bridge of hir nose and squints hir eyes shut. I don’t know what that means and I want to ask.

But Ptarmigan continues, “Also key is that we’re not all good people. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m good or even a person, but that’s beside the point here. Good or bad are constructs anyway. But there are Artists out there that are huge assholes. They have goals and schemes going on that exploit people, or all of humanity itself, and a lot of what we’re seeing today is a result of that. And that’s what you’re fighting with Daniel Säure. I have my own reasons, but I’d like to help you fight him.”

I’m trying to think of all the things that Ptarmigan isn’t saying, and to pick one or two to ask directly about.

Kimberly goes right for the throat before me, “How old are you?” She makes it sound like an insult. But she jerks her head into a quick little tilt to indicate she wants an answer.

“Weird question,” Ptarmigan answers. She takes a sip of her tea and seems to consider how to answer it, then says, “Forty-nine, I think. This time around.”

Chapman shifts in hir seat.

“Listen,” Rhoda says, thumping her cane and squaring her shoulders to assert her presence. “Ptarmigan, I don’t know what you are, but –”

“I’m an Artist,” she says.

“What is that?” Rhoda snaps back.

“An agent that creates Art,” Ptarmigan replies, like it’s obvious.

“Fine,” Rhoda says. “There are Rules we all must follow. Rules of consideration, hospitality, greetings, rules of business, to make sure we can build trust. And you are not observing any of them. By all rights and wisdom, we should all stand up and walk away from you. What do you want from us?”

I huff again. I wanted to ask if Ptarmigan was saying that Säure is an Artist too. I want clarity on that. So much of what Ptarmigan has been saying is implication, I feel like I can’t find any direct statement in it. And that point about Säure seems like the most important one. But the conversation seems to be moving away from it.

“I want to make a collaborative piece,” Ptarmigan says.

“Piece of what?” Rhoda asks.

“Art,” Ptarmigan and Chapman say at the same time.

Ptarmigan looks at Chapman.

Chapman’s arms are crossed and sie lifts her scowl up from facing the floor to aim it at the other Artist. Sie says, “Being so open about what you are is putting us all at such risk.”

“Oh, come on,” Ptarmigan says. “I know you made that vow a while back, but you know it’s time now. Ever since the likes of Meg have awakened, it’s been time to take decisive action.”

“I was hoping to be more subtle about it.”

Ptarmigan laughs so loudly, barking and braying, and then sobers up and says, “From where I’m sitting, it sure doesn’t look like it.” Then she looks very stern and says, “Break your vow for serious, this time. Put your back into it.”

#dragon #writeblr #original fiction #serial fiction #transformation #transgender

5 notes · View notes