#apologies that its so ridiculously long

[pyramultimuse]

Carnevale - A night to Remember

@inmemcrum closed starter for Ezio and Leonardo

Tonight was finally the night of Carnevale, one that the great artist Leonardo had been looking forward to and planning for months. Not only had he finished three paintings to be displayed in the artist district of the carnival but also his costume. A fantastic achievement for the man that would constant procrastinate and take a year to finish one painting. He'd had some good motivation from his dearest friend Ezio who had gifted some funds to get better supplies for his workshop. Leonardo had helped him quite a bit with whatever he'd ask but truly he only did so because he cared for the assassino and not to get paid for his help. Though of course he'd never turn down a gift.

Even with all the progress made he was still working until the last second on the finishing touch on a pendant for the fabric choker to go with his outfit. He was no jeweler but Leo was a man of many talents. Nor was he an assassin, but for years Ezio's parents had been dear friends when he had no others and Ezio himself had been there when he needed most. Whether it was to test out his inventions or kill Borgia guards that's been harassing him. This symbol for the assassins to him belonged to the people he cared for most in this world, not the family by blood but the family that chose him. Once finished engraving the last flourishes into the silver he sewed it to the teal fabric choker that was trimmed with gold lace and pearls.

Leonardo caressed the metal and smiled fondly down at his work. "I wonder if Ezio will attend..." He whispers to himself. His friend wouldn't recognize him, no one will, but maybe he'd be lucky to steal a dance with Ezio.

The artist pocketed his necklace and went to make sure his assistant had his paintings ready to be taken to the street gallery. There was still a few hours before dusk and his paintings needed to get there to have their spots if he hoped to sell them. With that arranged with his assistant it was off to get himself ready. He would leave his workshop to meet with Paola and her courtesans where they would help him get into costume. An outfit like this he couldn't have in the workshop. For this carnevale he wanted to indulge in his more feminine side, he wanted to feel beautiful and desired and he chose a dress and mask that reflected his own tastes then added his own flare. Beautiful teal with gold much like what he usually wore, he had added the golden lace patters and sewn in pears for that extra twinkle. Then the mask he got was elegant white porcine with gold painted designs and more pears. Though what had been originally a full mask he had altered it to cover only the lower half of his face.

His costume was quite snug, the courtesans putting him in a corset first to help give him a more of an hourglass waist. But once on it fit him perfectly, a lovely flowing gown that was perfect for twirling and dancing. The woman did his hair next, weaving and braiding in curly extensions to give him long wheat gold locks. They offered to use makeup on what skin was exposed but Leonardo liked his freckles over his collar bone and face so they were left natural with only a bit of eyeliner and brow details to make his blue eyes pop. Mask secured, he pulled on golden silk gloves then finally put on the choker with the silver pendant. All set for the carnival he thanked the courtesans and Paola wished him luck on the way out.

The sun was setting and the sky was darkening. The lanterns were being lit and people in costumes were already starting to flood the streets. Tassels, ribbons and flags hung between buildings, Venice was decorated in shades of vibrant pastels of pinks, purples, yellow and orange with party goers of similar color schemes. Though Leonardo stood out with his bright teal dress, but in the best of ways. It was not as extravagant as some women who went the gaudy route, his was dripping with elegance and with the pearls and gold had the air of wealth and fine taste. Nearing one of the main squares it took no time at all to have men wishing to escort him through Carnevale, asking to dance and wanting his attention. He chose one of the men wearing a fox mask for his first dance and they went among the others dancing in the streets before the stage with the musicians playing. This was exactly what Leonardo had been wanting, to feel free and have some fun with masked strangers at Carnevale. Though in his eyes often wandered, glancing around and hoping to spot the one he wanted to spend this night with more than anyone.

[pinkcadillaccas]

It's crazy how men literally think that the worst thing in the world is too have mistaken you for a woman

[luna-azzurra]

Body Language Cheat Sheet For Writers 

╰ Facial expressions

These are your micro-signals, like the blinking neon signs of the soul. But they’re small, quick, and often lie harder than words.

Raised eyebrows — This can mean surprise or disbelief, sure. But it can also be a full-on, silent “Are you serious right now?” when someone’s being ridiculous. Or even curiosity when someone’s too emotionally repressed to askthe damn question.

Furrowed brow — That face people make when they’re doing long division in their head or trying to emotionally process a compliment. It’s thinking, yes—but also confusion, deep frustration, or quiet simmering rage.

Smiling — Can be happiness… or total fake-it-till-you-make-it energy. Some smiles are stiff. Some don’t reach the eyes. Show that.

Frowning — Sure, sadness. But also: disappointment, judgment, or the universal “I’m about to say something blunt, brace yourself.”

Lip biting — It’s not just nervousness, it’s pressure. Self-control. Anticipation. It’s the thing people do when they want to say something and decide, at the last second, not to.

╰ Eye movement

The window to the soul? Yeah. But also the window to when someone’s lying, flirting, or deeply trying not to cry in public.

Eye contact — Confidence or challenge. Eye contact can be gentle, curious, sharp like a blade. Sometimes it’s desperate: “Please understand me.”

Avoiding eye contact — Not always guilt. Sometimes it’s protectiveness. Sometimes it’s “I’m afraid if I look at you, you’ll see everything I’m trying to hide.”

Narrowed eyes — Calculating. Suspicious. The look someone gives when their brain’s saying “hmmm...” and it’s not a good hmm.

Wide eyes — Surprise, yes. But also sudden fear. The oh-God-it’s-happening look. Or when someone just found out they’re not as in control as they thought.

Eye roll — Classic. But try using it with tension, like when someone’s annoyed and trying very hard not to lose it in public.

╰ Gestures

This is where characters’ emotions go when their mouths are lying.

Crossing arms — Not just defensive. Sometimes it’s comfort. A self-hug. A barrier when the conversation is getting too personal.

Fidgeting — This is nervous energy with nowhere to go. Watch fingers tapping, rings spinning, sleeves tugged. It says: I’m not okay, but I’m trying not to show it.

Pointing — It’s a stab in the air. Aggressive, usually. But sometimes a desperate plea: Look. Understand this.

Open palms — Vulnerability. Honesty. Or a gesture that says, “I have nothing left to hide.”

Hand on chin — Not just thinking. It’s stalling. It’s delaying. It’s “I’m about to say something that might get me in trouble.”

╰ Posture and movement

These are your vibes. How someone occupies space says everything.

Slumped shoulders — Exhaustion. Defeat. Or someone trying to take up less space because they feel small.

Upright posture — Not always confidence. Sometimes it’s forced. Sometimes it’s a character trying really, really hard to look like they’re fine.

Pacing — Inner chaos externalized. Thinking so loudly it needs movement. Waiting for something. Running from your own thoughts.

Tapping foot — Tension. Irritation. Sometimes a buildup to an explosion.

Leaning in — Intimacy. Interest. Or subtle manipulation. (You matter to me. I’m listening. Let’s get closer.)

╰ Touch

This is intimacy in all its forms, comforting, protective, romantic, or invasive.

Hugging — Doesn’t always mean closeness. Could be a goodbye. Could be an apology they can’t say out loud. Could be awkward as hell.

Handshake — Stiff or crushing or slippery. How someone shakes hands says more than their words do.

Back patting — Casual warmth. Bro culture. Awkward emotional support when someone doesn’t know how to comfort but wants to try.

Clenched fists — Holding something in. Rage, tears, restraint. Fists mean tension that needs somewhere to go.

Hair tuck — Sure, flirtation or nerves. But also a subtle shield. A way to hide. A habit from childhood when someone didn’t want to be seen.

╰ Mirroring:

If two characters start syncing their body language, something is happening. Empathy. Chemistry. Shared grief. If someone shifts their body when the other does? Take notice. Other human bits that say everything without words...

Nodding — Not just yes. Could be an “I hear you,” even if they don’t agree. Could be the “keep going” nod. Could be patronizing if done too slow.

Crossed legs — Chill. Casual. Or closed-off, depending on context. Especially if their arms are crossed too.

Finger tapping — Time is ticking. Brain is pacing. Something’s coming.

Hand to chest — Sincerity, yes. But also shock. Or grounding—a subconscious attempt to stay present when everything feels like too much.

Tilting the head — Curiosity. Playfulness. Or someone listening so hard they forget to hide it.

Temple rub — “I can’t deal.” Could be physical pain. Could be stress. Could be emotional overload in disguise.

Chin stroking — Your classic “I’m judging you politely.” Often used in arguments between characters pretending to be calm.

Hands behind the back — Authority. Control. Or rigid fear masked as control.

Leaning body — This is the body betraying the brain. A tilt toward someone means they care—even if their words are cold.

Nail biting — Classic anxiety. But also habit. Something learned. Sometimes people bite because that’s how they self-soothe.

Squinting — Focusing. Doubting. Suspicion without confrontation.

Shifting weight — Uncomfortable. Unsure. Someone who wants to leave but doesn’t.

Covering the mouth — Guilt. Hesitation. The “should I say this?” moment before something big drops.

Body language is more honest than dialogue. If you really want to show your character’s internal world, don’t just give them lines. Give them a hand that won’t stop shaking. Give them a foot that won’t stop bouncing. Give them a mouth that smiles when their eyes don’t. And if you’re not sure what your character would do in a moment of fear, or love, or heartbreak, try acting it out yourself. Seriously. Get weird. Feel what your body does. Then write that down.

[theoccultz]

How will your future spouse pursue you ?

Ok you guys the series is finally here

All of my pacs are queer friendly

Since not everyone wants to get married , you could read for your s/o as well

Pics and dividers not mine , credits to their rightful owners @/saradika

Apologies for any mistakes

Let me know which pile you picked and don't be afraid to express your thoughts (:

Pile l . Pile ll. Pile lll.

🫀 Pile l.

For this series if you have any topic suggestion let me know I'll include it

>>> | Queen of swords , 4of wands , 5 of cups |

This person is gonna be competitive for your attention , they dont fall in love easily and when they do its ride or die , they are your typical bad boy stereotype that you see in the movies , they are someone who knows they are the best in the room this person's self esteem & self concept is amazing, their confidence speak for itself, they are someone who has seen a lot of things in life and their way of getting to you is very simple and straightforward, maybe in the past people weren't as actively pursuing you as you would love them too but this person is not like this , they are on your face they know they want you and they're gonna be sincere & upfront about it , this person is generally very quiet and people have a lot of ridiculous assumptions about them like they're a player etc etc but best believe me they're really not what others think of him , this person is hot asf , you could be a very stubborn person who takes decision carefully about their life and this will stress them out n,ot in a way to deceit anyone but they know they have to prove everyone wrong so that you see them truly for who they are awww:(

Anyways this person is very masculine in nature , they are gonna act as a mentor and a caregiver, you want this ? I got it , you need this ? Its on me ....and you're like wtf i can do that myself but its just their way to make you feel special , this person does not do that for everyone if they are doing 50% for you then they are gonna do 20% for their friends its like they value your connection a lot and they don't want you to feel like you're just like everyone else in their life , this person is gonna defend you in every situation be it with their family or friends they dont give a shit , this person is also very keen on you they notice everything about you , how you care for people what you like to wear so their another hobby will be gift giving they are very thoughtful and they'd love to make you smile . The four of wands with the five of cups rx is very much i don't want to see them sad , i don't want them to doubt our connection, i want to put efforts for them , i want to do SO much that this person never feel less about themselves, i feel like being with this person , one of the best things about them ...that you're gonna like is they are deadly whatever they do its 100% efforts they dont like to tease their partner even in a slightest way because they know words can stick with a person forever so they're very mindful ,people can envy this the most about you guys its like no one can say anything bad abt my partner if you're gonna be passive then i might play this game as well , they could have a scorpio mercury or virgo so whatever they say is gonna hurt the other person because scorpions and virgos are known for their details , they study people very deeply , whatever they say hold meaning.

This person is definately that cold hearted girl/ guy or you are because i'm picking up on this black cat energy from you and cats do not chose their owners instantly neither do they love everyone. I Also picked up on a very rockstar appearance like long hairs , leather jacket, ripped jeans , its so cool , they remind me of early 2000's era

How will they pursue you : competitively , your friends post you every week ?? ...i'm gonna post you everyday its that kind of person lol , the back of the deck I usually take that as an overall energy is ace of pentacle which is a very stable and set energy in its own so whatever they do , they do it to achieve victory , to be recognised, to show you that they are the shit (;

Channelled song :

Thank you for reading!!

🫀Pile ll .

For this series if you have any topic suggestion let me know I'll include it

| 10 of cups , strength, four of swords |

Ok so this is our cool guy /girl lmao

Even though they will be putting in efforts to pursue you , you shouldn't know that they are doing that , i feel like they will be pursuing you from the get go like this person on a random monday evening will just accept i have feelings for this person and i want them , now this person will try to make it seem like its all a coincidence, this could be a leo mercury or gemini they try to entertain people with their words but their words hold honesty which people cant always catch so they will try to make you feel comfortable like you should feel happy in their presence and it will satisfy them and they will replay this in their mind at night like oh this person laughed at my joke they touched me i made them happy and it brings a smile on their face , they might say or do things which will make you laugh take a scenario like OH ...and you're like what happened and this person is like deja vu darling i think we belong together the universe knows and its so cheesy but its also so cute , they like to break this barrier between you guys , this person will be friendly towards you , they will flirt with you , they're also very spontaneous and a little bit tricky they love to play with you , lets say you guys have a dinner plan and you're excited you're dressed up you have already reached the venue but they will purposefully show up late and when you text them they're like WHAT...? We had plans ? but they are just joking they are alrdy at the venue waiting for you to see them , they might even joke with you like oh i have 5 kids to feed ofcourse i'm late & its a very playfully banter , you play along like YOU match their freak ... its ridiculous you wanna be mad at them but you can't but i understand your feelings pile 2 and i validate 🙂‍↔️✋🏽

I really think this person is gonna steal your parents love like 😭✋🏽they are the favourite child now , this person has a tendency to play cool like they dont wanna give in first..... they want you to give in first its kind of a cute ego idk , let's take a scenario they say "love you " and you're like where's my " I LOVE YOU " and they're like yes "I LOVE YOU TOO" so petty 😭 they have this natural ability to piss you off , this is the type of person when someone would ask you guys ..."so who confessed first ??...they're gonna jump in like ofcourse it was them , they were crazy about me like you dont know i had to give in but its not true its the opposite. So as you can already guess their ass ? Dramatic ...but you cant say they are dramatic because they are gonna be MORE dramatic about it .

How will they pursue you ? With fear because i feel like they will mask their desire to make you theirs with humour you could start off as friends or colleagues so they cant be very open about their feelings because they feel like you are not focused on love and you might reject them so it's their little cute tactics to get to your heart yeah but they are gonna be very anxious about it they could even suffer from inferiority complex.

Channelled song:

Thank you for reading!!

🫀Pile lll.

For this series if you have any topic suggestion let me know I'll include it

• 3ofcoins, wheel of fortune rx , seven of swords rx •

This person will absolutely be focused on providing comfort to you whether it be emotional or sexual , they love to do things with you they love to hang out with you , they creatively express themselves, they are someone who's gonna listen to your rants they are gonna embrace every flaw & every good thing about you , you are gonna feel exposed in their presence there's something about this person knowing you more than you know them , they really love to spend time with you , i'm seeing this person pushing you towards better goals like your life is gonna improve being with them ,this person will be very happy for your success, they are gonna put you on pedestal they think you are more lovable than them and you deserve more than them and i can confidently say they'll always love you more than you love them its very sweet but also sad , they have insecurities yet they are here trying to soothe your heart, they are gonna apologise first its like they dont wanna lose you they know how to keep a connection you wouldn't need to worry this is a connection where you can let yourself just be you aint gonna walk on eggshells, they are mature , i feel like this person cannot express themselves through words so they prefer to write to you , take you to places with them , praise you infornt of others , make you something, i feel like this persons love is comforting and sweet , you are their equal and they want you to feel like that.

This person will definately engage more in your life , they are gonna be supportive towards you like a best friend, they will overgive to you , they can even say stuff like ...." as long as i'm here i'm gonna be there for you ".....they will hold your hand while you walk they will listen to your problems, they will embrace your silly nature , take you out , spend time with you " i'm getting this line you came and the other one is like you called " it went viral on tiktok i think its from a movie but yeah the energy is very much sweet

Oh you guys this is so sweet , you guys dont speak the same language? They're gonna learn for you we have that kind of person here , you know when they are in love they get hearty eyes it shows on their face and in their behaviour, those sneaky eye contacts , those blush when you are mentioned, the sincerity in their words ,its all there .

How they're gonna pursue you ? Its very passionate and being Passionate does not mean always having hots for each other and that is exactly how they will make you feel , you feel this wholeness i'm having a hard time describing it...its so divine...you know just so grateful and lucky to have a connection like this in this day n age , Yeah 😭this is sooooooo damnnn cuteee i'm scared of this person's energy its very intense , i mean your partner is into worshipping & if you like this then this is definitely your pile (:

Channelled song:

Thanks for reading!!

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

Am I Enough ?

summary : Alfred unexplainably dislikes a certain Wayne member and is hellbent on making her life as miserable as it can get .

What does it take to make a person break ? What does it take to make a person want to pull apart themselves from within ? What makes a person want to drown themselves in an unimaginable abyss and let its infinite darkness swallow them hole ?

Well, if you asked name, it would be watching Alfred treat every other family member with the utmost respect and love, but when it comes to her , he is cold and unforgiving .

Sometimes , name sits in her room and reflects - sometimes she thinks she's being dramatic - taking things out of portion . Maybe Alfred hadn't made her any dinner like everyone else because he was tired ? Maybe he didn't offer to patch up her bleeding wounds because he had to tend to Tim's scar ?

Name can't tell you how many excuses she had made for that man and his odd behavior towards her . Was it because she was a product of Bruce's one night stands ? It has to be impossible because he treats Damian with utmost care despite their constant back and forts and his own creation.

Is it because she was abnoxious ? That would explain the glare he shot her whenever she spoke during dinner . She tried - lord knows name - tried apologizing to the older head so many times over the years she has lived and served under Bruce Wayne, but the older head would always dismiss her .

Name pretends it's not a big deal - a pathetic attempt of dealing with her problems, but what else was she to do ? Alfred was so loved and appreciated in this family that if she dared speak something ill against him - she shivered and dreaded the consequences .

She already knows what they would tell her , " Name, don't be so dramatic Alfred has served us for so long be appreciative" , " Name , not everyone has to like you , I thought you were more mature than this " , " Name , you can't be this ridiculous ".

Thoughts like these swirl around her head like a violent tornado whenever she so much has a silver of confidence to approach anyone on the topic . So, name feigns ignorance to the topic . Whenever Dick questions why Alfred can't simply drop her to school , name just lies about wanting to walk to school and back instead .

Whenever questioned why she cleans up after herself instead of leaving it to Alfred by Stephanie, name just laughs it off to being independent. She gets weird looks from Jason every time she shuffles a sandwich she made for herself for dinner , instead of the five-star meal, Alfred made them .

She always made excuses for that man, but lord - those that man hate her . She remembers in 8th grade when she felt sick, and she opted to stay home that day . Around noon, she had entered the kitchen for a drink when Alfred spotted her and began his berating.

" Name Wayne , your father spends thousands behind your tuition not so that you can discard it so recklessly to be a nobody." Name was so embarrassed that she simply shut herself in her room after that.

To make it even worse , Alfred had complained to Bruce about it right after, and she got a lecture from him too about how important academics were . That wasn't the worst of it - the worst was when she had her guy friend over in the library to study for an exam, and Alfred spotted them and accused her of being a hooker .

Any bits of sympathy and respect she held for that man died that day . Since then, they've been icy to one another , always sneering and glaring at one each other whenever they can .

Name is happy to report that since she turned 18 , she has long since left the mansion and has been living her life in New York . Far away from Gotham , far away from Alfred and far away enough to live her life without some old geaser up her behind .

She till works for Bruce, always sending over whatever bit of intel she found to him or Tim. Years passed like this, and name has yet to visit the manor since , to the point it's a running joke between Jason and Dick that he himself visits more than her .

The batfam likes to joke about every year around that it would take a ' Christmas miracle ' for name to show up, not knowing that Alfred purposely doesn't send her any invitations or the way Tim always suggests " we can make name bring the mash potatoes so she hasto join us ! " During Thanksgiving dinners .

As much as Bruce laughs and entertains the jokes , he always wondered why you never came , always wondered if they harmed you someway or how that made you want to distance yourself from them.

It all came down to a week before Christmas , and the batfam was busy helping preparations and ensuring the safety of Gotham was at its best this holiday . Bruce had just come back from patrol and was busy typing away at his computer when Alfred approached him with dinner.

" Alfred please prepare a room for name " Bruce says after a few beats of silence have passed . Alfred stills - almost dropping the platter of food . " Excuse me Master Wayne but what ?" Alfred asks - too shocked - too stunned by the request . He thought he gotten rid of you for good why - why now ?

Bruce raised an eyebrow at this , " I asked for you to prepare a room for Name , I have invited them over for Christmas " Bruce says once again , this time his voice firm . Alfred blinks his eyes - he can't belive it - can't grasp the fact that after all these years Bruce still cared about you of all people .

Before Alfred can even argue about it - Damian and Dick whom overheard the conversation eagerly approaches them . " Hmph my competent sibling would make this Christmas snowball fights ever so more winnable for us " Damian says with a smirk- he's already plotting in his head the shenigans the both of you can do to poor Jason.

Dick rolled his eyes but had a cheesy smile plastered on , " No way in hell you got name to come back home old man " Dick laughs out as he ruffles through Bruce's hair . Bruce stares at them all with a pokerface , " I personally talked with them and requested their presence this Christmas and told them it was non-negotiable "

Dick laughs , " You're treating them like they're Jason and would rather ship themselves to the sun than come home " . Damian nods his head to this , " My sibling is more competent than that idiot " . A batrang is then thrown at his head to which Damain eagerly dodges .

" SHUT UP YOU LITTLE GREMLIN " Jason shouts in the distance , Tim's laughter echoing right after . A fight begins to ensue and Bruce returns back to his work - ignoring everyone while Alfred is stood there frozen in disbelief .

A week passed a name is standing in front of the looming mansion. Nothing has changed since the day she left - especially the scowling old man awaiting in the foyer for her . " Good evening Alfred " Name greets him as she removes her coat and hangs it on the hanger . " It would of been a better evening if you never came " Alfred says before walking away . Name scowled - ' why does he always have a stick up his behind ?' She thinks as she invited herself inside.

' Also what was the point of waiting for her if he'd just walk away ?' Name thinks to herself as she seats herself in the dinner table . " NAME !! " Stephanie exclaims at her arrival. Beside her , Tim embraces her and Jason flicks her forehead .

" Name welcome back " Bruce greets her at the head of the table . Name smiles at her dad - a sense of happiness fills her , after years of celebrating the holidays alone or among friends , she's happy to be back home amoug them.

" We missed you name like Damian literally cried when you left " Dick says with a giggle . Damian angrily shoves him off his seat , " Shut up grayson that literally never happened " .

Name laughs but was interupted by a Alfred's cough. " Dinner is served masters " he says as he places plates in front of everyone except name . " Where is Name’s plate ?" Tim asks - breaking the comfortable silence . Everyone turns to Alfred who quickly feigns ignorance . " Apologies Master Drake I am afraid I forgot Name was visiting and hadn't prepared anything "

Bruce and Damian both quirk their eyebrows in confusion because all week - they've both been talking about your arrival how can he simply forget ? . Name awkwardly laughs , " It's alright everyone I'll make myself a sandwich-" She tries to excuse herself but is stopped when Jason angrily bangs his hands against the table .

" This is absolutely ridiculous Alfred I know you hate them but to be this petty?" He argues . Silence envelops the table - name stunned because how the hell did Jason know about any of this ? How did he notice ?

" Jason that's a wild accusation -" Tim starts but Jason cuts him off . " No listen - I don't know how none of you ever noticed but name always has to make their own food - I've never seen Alfred cook them anything " Jason points out .

The table is silent again . " Alfred why is that ?" Bruce asks . Alfred fumbles abit but clears his throat . " Name prefers to make her own meals " he lied . Everyone turns to name who's practically sinks in her own seat from the heated stares .

" Is this true Name ?" Bruce enquires sternly . " Yes ?" Name pathetically lies and curses herself internally. Damian glances at her and then at Alfred . " What is the meaning of this Alfred ?" He orders . Alfred has to steel himself from within before answering , " nothing of the sort master we just don't get along " was his excuse .

Silence draws out once more . " Why ?" Dick asks as he looks between you both . Name stayed silent before answering, " I don't know what I did - I tried apologizing but nothing changed " .

" Wait name !! " Bruce calls after her but it was too late she had already left, never to return home again .

Alfred shoots her a harsh glare , " It is because this family can do without her existence " and with that Alfred leaves the room without another word . Silence once again draws out but was broken by name pushing her seat back . " Was nice having dinner with you guys but I must leave " she says before hurriedly making her exit .

[pellucid-constellations]

Fable - During

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel was too late, and something was brewing. The fate of your wings rested in the balance and there was nothing left of him to reconcile with.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Angst, injury, violence

a/n: This is part of a mini-series but each part can be read on its own/out of order. The next part is going to be long guys <3 Thank you for reading all of this angst!!!

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

The ground beneath Azriel’s feet must have disappeared. 

He was unstable, falling, plummeting into an unknown abyss. 

When he looked down, Azriel saw the plush carpet at his feet, but as he replayed Rhysand’s words—four words, echoing—the blur behind his eyes made the physical obsolete. We can’t find her, Rhysand had said, followed by a multitude of questions from Cassian that Azriel could not hear. Everything was buzzing and the carpet was gone. 

Where was Lucien? Azriel remembered that Lucien was to go with you. Where was he? 

He had to be dead because if he were alive and you were missing, Azriel would kill him himself. 

“Lucien,” Azriel spoke, his voice rough, interrupting the conversation he had not been part of. 

“What?” Rhysand asked. 

But Cassian ignored his High Lord’s confusion. “She was never bringing Lucien,” he growled, throwing his brother a sneer. “She only said that to make sure you went on your date. I told her I should’ve come. I told her—” 

Azriel had lost his breath. He was grappling for it, trying to make sense of Cassian’s words as his lungs began to burn, but you wouldn’t do that, would you? Why would you lie to him? Over something like this? 

“Cassian, enough,” Azriel gasped, the buzzing of his brother’s voice a constant barrier in the losing battle within his head. “Who’s looking for her? Where should we go?” 

Azriel was dressed in a ridiculous button-up shirt with slacks that now felt too tight on his legs. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and his shadows took advantage of the open space, trailing up to protect him from nothing. Because nothing was here—he wasn’t in danger. 

You were. 

Azriel had only gotten through drinks with Elain before the call from his High Lord sent him into the sky. He couldn’t remember if he apologized. Azriel’s shoes were pinching his feet. 

“I had just lost connection with her when I called you. I sent her to the northeast camp. There’s a possibility that—” 

Azriel was traveling through the shadows, darkness consuming him before Rhysand could finish his sentence. He should have grabbed Cassian for backup, but that was a thought Azriel would only have much, much later. 

His mind was on you—only on you. 

That wasn’t unnatural for Azriel; you were one of the most important people in his life and you had been in trouble before. Life-threatening, war-induced trouble, but somehow, this felt different. 

You had been distant lately. 

Azriel had noticed, but Azriel had also been so zeroed in on getting Elain’s attention that he figured he would have time to check on you in a few weeks. 

When he landed in the camp, the foreboding quiet made him consider that he might never get to check on you again. Illyrian camps were never quiet. There was always shouting or fighting or nagging mothers getting after their young. But the insects in the bushes could be heard in this camp, and Azriel paused amid his racing heart to make sense of the noise. 

And then he heard the scream. 

Your scream.

And he was running. 

His shoes groaned as they pounded into soft dirt and you screamed again. Azriel had never heard that sound come from you. The way it erupted into the air—it was as if it was ripped from your throat, evoked from nothing but agony. 

He pushed himself harder, faster, until the screams became closer and a small hut materialized on the horizon. The image of the quaint house brought Azriel relief, but that relief was short-lived because your screams had become tired in his journey. With each step, your voice broke more and more and Azriel didn’t even feel angry. 

The rage he expected to feel was consumed by the terror that gripped him. 

He ripped open the door and that terror only increased tenfold. 

Azriel was usually focused during battle, his mind razor-sharp. He was known for calculating every step, for remembering each life he took, and being able to recount each slice of his blade when asked for a report days later. Azriel was a warrior and a spy. 

But Azriel could not remember his actions. 

From the moment he opened the door and found you on the ground, surrounded by enemies and so broken, he lost the ability to calculate anything other than death. 

He figured a few must have gotten away because he vaguely registered that the door made a sound. But over the screams, that sound was inconsequential, and with the image of you before him, lying in your blood, chest only minutely rising and falling, everything else was inconsequential. 

He only remembered that the rage finally found him. 

Only when bodies littered the floor did the anger make way for the visceral fear that came with reaching for you—grabbing you as you let out small, weak sounds and took labored breaths. 

“Y/n?” Azriel stressed, eyes roving over your figure with haste that his hands couldn't match. He had to be careful; so much of you was broken. “Y/n,” he spoke again, as if the echo of your name would somehow fix you, snap you out of the hurt. 

Azriel’s breath quivered. His scarred hands hovered over your skin now, afraid to touch you more than to bring you into his arms. His fingers shook. Your wings—it was your wings. 

“You’re okay,” Azriel affirmed, whispering only to himself. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” 

Salt tainted the surface of his tongue, and Azriel then recognized that he was crying. Fat, heavy tears blurred his vision and fell into his mouth as he repeated his mantra into the stagnant air. 

Your wings looked beyond repair. When Hybern destroyed Cassian’s, the roots remained. The delicate flesh was burned and torn, but regrowth was still feasible.

Only small pieces of the membrane along your back remained. 

Azriel’s soul wept. 

You groaned, and Azriel stopped his inspection of your back, his hands brushing your hair off from where it stuck to your skin. 

“Y/n?” he tried again. “Can you hear me? I’m—I’m going to bring you home, okay? You��re going to be fine, I promise.” 

He shouldn’t have promised that. His voice broke as he spoke the words and Azriel knew he shouldn’t have promised that because you only let out a broken rendition of ‘my wings?’ that Azriel had no response to. He only squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to your temple before shadows consumed him once more. They had been rampaging around the pair, whispering worried, angry words in Azriel’s ear, but they remained faithful. 

They brought you home. 

Mor screamed first. 

He assumed everyone would be out looking for you, but Azriel hadn’t broken the connection to Rhysand’s mind, and they had been expecting him. His family stood before him as your blood stained the rug of his High Lord’s favorite sitting room. Rhysand was missing, gone to retrieve Madja, but Azriel was only looking for those he knew could help you. 

His throat caught on air as he frantically searched for Feyre in the room. When he saw her wide eyes, he let out a desperate, “Help her,” that sounded nothing like him. His High Lady’s shoulders rose and fell with hurried panic as she came forward and then hesitated. 

Azriel heard someone vomit in the corner of the room—Cassian, he thought—and Mor came to kneel beside him. 

“Feyre,” he sobbed. “Please. Please, try.” 

Mor was crying. Cassian had wiped his mouth and come to stand beside Feyre, but everyone was too afraid to touch you. You rested in Azriel’s arms, but even his palms remained face up and did not connect with your skin. He would break you more, he was sure of it. Your wings bent at odd angles and hung from your body by only tethered threads and no one knew what to do. 

Azriel thought that dying would be better than this. 

His button-up was stained red. 

“Fuck.” Rhysand’s voice rattled the air in the House. At some point, Feyre had broken her hesitancy and kneeled before you, a gentle glow emitting from her hands as she tried to stitch together the broken remains of your skin. When her mate appeared with the elder healer, she turned wild eyes towards him. Rhysand stood frozen, mimicking each person in the room, but he was the High Lord—a composed leader—so his reverie lasted only seconds before he was sent into action. 

“The table,” Rhysand demanded. “Lay her on the table.” 

No one moved. 

Azriel couldn’t stop looking at you. 

Madja then spoke, no, demanded, “Now.” 

The table was cleared, everything swiped to the floor with abandon. As gently as he could, Azriel rose from the floor on shaking legs and heaved you up with him, offering soft apologies as you cried out. He wished you would pass out from the pain, be free of it all, but the agonizing reality that you might not wake up struck him harder. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he whispered against your hair. His body ached. Azriel leaned you against the table as the other members of his family turned you on your stomach. He kneeled to meet your lidded gaze, your face pressed against the wood. “Madja’s going to fix it, okay?” 

The healer was giving orders—Cassian to get water, Mor to support your head, Feyre for support. It was all a buzz in Azriel’s ears. He licked his lips and tried to meet your eyes, but they were trailing off, unfocused. 

“Y/n?” he tried. “Angel?” A name he had dropped once Elain came into the picture. Your lashes fluttered. His attention peaked. “It’s okay, angel. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry—” 

Azriel was torn from his position on the ground, a heavy hand shoving him up and against the wall. His shadows remained caressing your skin, but a fist met Azriel's face and he lost sight of you. 

“This is your fault.” 

“Cassian!” Mor called, desperately pleading with no one. 

“It is,” Cassian seethed, his arm pressed to the Shadowsinger’s throat. “If he hadn’t been searching for something with a woman not even meant to be his, he would have been there. She would have said anything to ensure your happiness. Anything, Azriel.” 

Azriel blinked and Cassian’s face was inches from his own. “I didn’t—” 

“You have been blinded, brother. You’ve been blind for years and now this is the price.” 

“I don’t—what are you saying?” Azriel pleaded, trying and failing to look over Cassian’s broad wings to catch a glimpse of you. 

“Cassian, this is not the time,” Mor scolded, but the anguish burned so deeply in Cassian’s eyes that Azriel could tell he wasn’t hearing her. 

“She gave you everything,” his brother continued. “She—” 

Your scream punctuated the building tension in the room. Cassian whipped around and Azriel used the opportunity to shove him away, the Shadowsinger racing to your side once again. But, once again, he was pushed away. Rhysand held his shoulder back this time, shaking his head with a furrowed brow. 

The screams echoed in the room and they hurt. 

They hurt everyone. 

Feyre and Mor stood beside Madja, the three of them set to the fruitless task of saving your wings. A small part of Azriel spoke the truth that they were also just trying to save you. You had lost so much blood and he still knew nothing of your other injuries. 

“Rhys,” Azriel begged, beseeching him with his gaze. 

But Rhysand only shook his head once more. “They need the space.” 

“She needs me.” 

Cassian scoffed and ground his jaw, but a glance in the general’s direction found only tears and the quivering of his lips as he pressed them together. 

“You need to let them work.” 

“This is my fault,” Azriel spoke, his tone dead, lost within the echo of your screams. “I was seeing Elain,” he admitted. He met Rhysand’s eyes. “You told me not to. She lied so I could go.” 

Rhysand didn’t even look disappointed. He didn’t look surprised. He only ticked his jaw to the side and breathed deeply through his nose as your screams filled the room once more. 

Azriel flinched. The soles of his shoes were caked with blood and cracked along the stitches. 

Rhysand would have the right to be angry. He had the right to send Azriel away and force him to sit in uncertainty and the consequences of the night, but Rhysand found something familiar in the Shadowsinger’s eyes—something different. Something that Rhysand could find in himself if he were to search his mind from the night he thought Feyre to be dead. 

Impossible, the High Lord assumed, but you were still screaming and there was no time to inspect the intricacies of Azriel’s reaction. 

So Rhysand only held back the maelstrom of his own emotions, his sister broken on the table just feet from him, and kept his response to that of a leader. 

“Let them work, Azriel.”

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

[mattybsgroupie]

— FITTING

— handjob (m receiving); mommy kink; milf!reader; virgin!chris; sub!chris

— NOTES: hi my loves! sorry i’ve been a little m.i.a, some stuff happening at home and not really in my best mood BUT i’m here! you give me strenght to keep going and doing what i love. did you guys miss him as much as i did :( chris my beloved!!! inspired by this blurb, thought i’d show how shy chris was before their first time! — btw this fic is part of the milf!au but you can it on its own! — not proofread, i apologize for any mistakes. enjoy ♡

walking around the mall after a busy morning at work, you spotted a familiar figure across the alley. it was quite impossible not to recognize chris — his long hair falling over his big eyes, wearing his shabby jeans and his old converse as he typed frantically on his phone, oblivious to his surroundings.

you approached him slowly, standing in front of chris and expecting that he’d notice you soon. when he raised his head, a smile spread from ear to ear, his blue orbs sparkling. it had been over two weeks since you last saw each other due to stacy staying at her father's place, therefore, chris had no excuses to visit you.

“chris? what are you doing here?” you asked in your usual sweet tone. he scratched the back of his head, as if he was a bit embarrassed about the situation he found himself in. “huh... actually, i was supposed to meet stacy” chris admitted, tucking his cell phone back into his pocket and standing up beside you.

“but she won’t make it” he said. a puzzled frown appeared on your face. it’s true that you couldn’t always keep track of your daughter’s schedule when she wasn't at home, but she wasn’t the type to miss dates or hangouts. 

“cheer practice” he explained. you nodded, realizing that the game season was about to start. it felt so wonderful to see chris again. “well, would you like a ride home? i just have to look for something real quick and then i’m all done”

“sure, c-can i keep you company?” he asked, eager for a positive answer. “absolutely, sweetheart”

you led the way to the store you were going to visit. a lingerie shop. chris gulped when he saw the bright sign, the pink lights contrasting with the black interior and then sighed. he knew you missed him just as much.

“that’s not fair, mama” he mumbled after a while. chris had been following you like a puppy, interlocking his index with two of your fingers, as if he could lose his way at any second. 

“making me so needy” he complained again. you stopped by a red, lace lingerie set and happily brought it to your chest, turning to chris. “what do you think of this one, chris? pretty, right?”

“mhm— really pretty” chris shook his head as he sunk his teeth on his bottom lip. he looked away from you and the way the bra rested perfectly against your chest. “what’s up, baby? are you having a little trouble down there?”

“mama… don’t do this to me” chris whispered. his hands started to get sweaty and he could feel the blood rushing to his cock. he was about to get hard in public just because he thought of you in lingerie, which was ridiculous, since he had seem you naked previosusly.

“i’m not doing anything, sweetie. i’m shopping and you’re keeping me company, isn’t that right? is it my fault that you can’t hold yourself back and got all worked up just because i got some lingerie?” your warm tone sent a shiver down his spine, his chest immediatly inflating with air. “‘m s-sorry i just keep thinking… of you wearing it” chris tried to explain himself as you chuckled, enjoying his embarassement.

“yeah? you wanna see me wearing a nice set for you? which one do you like better?” you asked, handing him three pairs of bras and panties in different colors.

“the red one” chris spoke, still not daring to look at you in the ways. you walked in slow, seductive steps towards him, the sound of your heels taking over the empty store.

“c’mere,  i’ll try it on for you” you continued, undoing the first button of your silk shirt. chris got a peek of your bra, it was the leopard print that drove him insane and made him kiss you for the first time, months ago. “but first we gotta fix this, hm?” you cooed, placing your palm against his boner and applying some pressure to it.

once again, you led the way towards the fitting rooms. chris followed you obediently, holding a bunch of hangers. you gaze scanned the store and with a naughty grin, you opened one of the curtains and quickly went inside, pulling chris by his wrist.

he didn’t even had time to hang your underwear. you pushed him against the mirror, smashing your lips together in a desperate, hungry kiss. a loud groan left his throat as you moved to his neck, gently sucking on his skin. “mommy i missed you so much” chris rolled his eyes, his hands going to your hair.

“i missed you too, my good little boy” you whispered, palming his cock over his jeans. chris squirmed against you, a moan slipping from his lips. you opened a satisfied smile as you pulled away, sitting on the stool next to the mirror.

chris whined in protest, already missing how you hand and your lips felt on him. “got all hard for mama? you poor little thing” he pouted, nodding “c’mon, touch yourself for me” you instructed him.

his eyes widened in surprise — you had never asked him that. he didn’t know how to do jerk himself properly. chris was a virgin and the first time he was actually able to reach an orgasm was with your help. how was he supposed to do it on his own, and in public?

“mhm, unless you wanna go out with that pathetic boner” you teased, crossing your legs. the red heel started to slip from your foot as you finished unbuttoning your shirt, fully displaying your bra. chris whined again, silently pleading.

“mama… i n-need your help” chris spoke under his breath. “can’t cum without you”

“you’ll have to learn how to take care of yourself, chris” you said, pulling chris by his belt. you helped him to undress, freeing his shaft, almost slapping against his own tummy. you wrapped your knuckles around his length, stroking it in slow motions. “do you expect mama to be there every time you get hard? what are you gonna do when i’m not around, hm?”

“nhng— can’t— can’t be without mama” chris whimpered, more to himself than to you. he twitched inside your fist, placing both hands on the mirror to hold his weight, knowing his knees would ultimately give up.

you moved your thumb to his tip, pre-cum leaking from his slit as you circled it. his hips bucked forward as he leaned his head down, trying to hold himself. chris didn’t want to cum too soon, it was humiliating. he wanted to last long for you, he wanted to get used to the feeling your fingers around him, to the sound of your voice whispering praises and calling him a good boy, but no matter how hard chris tried, he pathetically failed.

“cum! mama, cum!” chris whimpered. you tightened your grip around his cock, pumping it faster. “please!”

“cum for me baby” you allowed him. you knew chris would need a long time to get used to your touch. in fact, it was adorable that he couldn’t even last five minutes.

chris threw his head back, moaning as he came on your hand, thick spurt messing your fingers and his jacket. you didn’t move your hand, continuing to gently stroke his wet, sticky cock.

that’s until your phone rang. you reached for your bag, quickly picking it up and seeing the name on the screen. “i think stacy is back home” you told chris, whose dick immediately became soft at the mention of your daughter’s name. “would you like to join us for dinner?”

chris masterlist | milf au masterlist

[harperskele]

Flawed Method

Made another thing for @mmmilkweed! This time, it's based on this post.

Side note: You can pry Scottish White Lily from my cold, dead hands.

-

Shadow Milk would sooner die than admit that being held brings him comfort. It’s an embarrassment to all he is and all he stands for. There is no lie to be told in the warmth of a tender embrace, and deceit cannot pervade its gentleness. He is fearsome and powerful, and hugs are a comfort for the weak.

Still, he slips into Pure Vanilla’s arms every chance he gets, one way or another. Whether it’s a wild embrace with scathing kisses and frantic clawing and rustling sheets or simply sliding up against him in his sleep, he gets what he wants.

Today, Pure Vanilla refuses to even look his way. He can feel himself twitching as frustration claws at his chest. It was a minor prank! Everyone got all their limbs back in the end, so what’s the harm? “Nillyyy!” He complains, hating how pathetic he makes himself sound. The Beast of Deceit whining for the attention of a pious and truthful man; it’s a ridiculous image for sure, but he doesn’t care. Just one look and he’ll be satisfied for now. He can get whatever else he wants later.

Still, the man stubbornly ignores him. He stifles the growl threatening to rip from his throat. How dare he? How dare he refuse to give Shadow Milk his attention like this? He apologized, didn’t he? He fixed what he did.

Then it hits him. He’s mad at Shadow Milk, but what if he wasn’t Shadow Milk?

It’s as easy as lowering himself to his feet and slipping into a new skin. He reaches out with a pale little hand, forcing his lip to tremble. He lets tears slip down his cheeks. “Pure Vanilla…” He pleads in White Lily’s soft Scottish burr. Finally, the man whips around to look at him in shock. Victory! Oh, but he’s not done. He has to pay for ignoring him like that. “Pure Vanilla! Please, don’t-” He hiccups, pretending to stumble over his words. Oh, what a show he’s going to put on for him! “Don’t leave me! Please!”

He presses himself close with a sob, tangling these frail arms of his in Pure Vanilla’s robes. It’s so warm compared to the frigid air. He blinks, and more tears fall from his eyes. He continues his pathetic little mumbles and apologies, only beginning to let up when Pure Vanilla wraps his arms around him in return. Was he seriously that stupid? Did he really think he was hugging White Lily or something? A little giggle slips out, but he masks it with another sob. Already, he can feel his frustration waning.

Here, in the warmth of Pure Vanilla’s arms, he feels a plan forming. And oh, what a plan it is.

~

The next time he slides into another skin, it’s Hollyberry’s form he adopts. The boisterous woman should be easy enough to emulate; she’s hardly a quiet person. It’s easy to pick up on her mannerisms. He strolls through the gardens of Pure Vanilla’s palace, delighted when he sees his quarry tending to a patch of milkcrown flowers.

“Pure Vanilla! How are you, fratello?” He laughs, approaching with ease. The man waits for a few seconds, then looks up with a bright smile.

“Hollyberry! I am well. How are you and your family?” Pure Vanilla rises from the soil, brushing grass from his robes.

“Good, good! We’re doing just fine.” He replies, standing right in front of Pure Vanilla. It’s a nasty habit of Hollyberry’s to invade personal space, one he delights in. He can smell vanilla orchids and turned earth, and the scent is almost enough to send him into a high. He maintains his composure, though, and opens his arms wide. “Now, where’s my hug? It’s been too long!”

He just about dies of happiness when Pure Vanilla steps closer and wraps his arms around him. He pulls the man close, a grin much too wide for any normal face spreading across his lips. It’s borderline euphoric to be able to hold Pure Vanilla like this. He’s smaller for once, dwarfed by Hollyberry’s muscular physique.

He’ll have to do this more often.

Should he do Dark Cacao next? Maybe Golden Cheese. Already, so many ideas swirl around in his head. He could impersonate Black Raisin or maybe just some random child. He’ll do anything, steal anyone’s form, if he gets to feel this all the time.

“Shadow Milk, why are you pretending to be my friends?”

Just like that, the illusion shatters. His grin falls, and his face twists into a scowl. He snarls and shoves Pure Vanilla away, returning to his own form. Fucking hell, why couldn’t he have his fun? “How did you know?” He rasps, floating out of reach. He crosses his arms, trying to hold on to that wonderful warmth for a few seconds more. Already, his metaphorical hackles are up.

“Your eyes. They don’t change.” Pure Vanilla replies with a tender chuckle. The man returns to his flowers, ignoring Shadow Milk’s anger. “Besides, Hollyberry only calls Cacao fratello. She calls me mio piccolo tesoro. Isn’t that just the cutest?”

Her little treasure. Hollyberry calls Pure Vanilla her little treasure.

Writhing jealousy grabs his heart and twists it, and another growl rips from his throat. “No, it’s disgusting,” He spits.

“Either way, I asked you a question. Why did you pretend to be White Lily and Hollyberry?”

It’s the easiest question in the world to answer, but it’s the hardest at the same time. He knows why he did it, but that doesn’t mean Pure Vanilla has to know. It would just complicate things. He didn’t need to give this pious prick another reason to push so hard for his redemption.

I just wanted you to hold me.

“To fuck with you, obviously!” For the first time in his long life, a lie doesn’t come easy. He struggles to choke it out. He forces out a cackle and flips upside down. “What did you want me to say? ‘Oh my sweet Vanilly, I just wanted to be held in your big, strong arms?’ Yeah, right!”

“If it’s as simple as wanting to be held, then you just need to ask,” Pure Vanilla says with a soft smile. Shadow Milk splutters, his eyes going wide as he stares down at the audacious man from his spot in the air. Did he not hear the majority of what he said? Okay, he had to be genuinely stupid at this point.

“Do you only hear what you want to or something?” He stammers. Pure Vanilla just shrugs in response and carefully trims a flower, twisting it to and fro in his fingers. He beckons Shadow Milk closer, and he obeys against his better judgement.

“Sometimes,” he whispers, tucking the flower in Shadow Milk’s hair, “I hear what people truly mean instead of what they tell me.” The gesture is so soft and sweet, almost nauseating. Shadow Milk has half a mind to leave right then, but the way Pure Vanilla opens his arms just for him is such a compelling invitation. He doesn’t offer for White Lily or Hollyberry; no, he offers his embrace to Shadow Milk alone now.

Fighting down the giddiness rising in his chest, he throws himself into Pure Vanilla’s arms with a huff. He grasps the man’s robes firmly, refusing to let go. He basks in the sweet smell of patchouli and sweet vanilla as he buries his nose in Pure Vanilla’s neck. Warm arms curl around him, hands resting on his lower back and between his shoulders, and pull him closer. Pure Vanilla slowly sinks down, kneeling in the soil with Shadow Milk draped over his lap.

This is how the world is meant to be, he likes to think. Here, in the arms of the one whose attention he craves so desperately, everything feels right. He closes his eyes, savoring the way Pure Vanilla places his chin on his head and gently rocks back and forth. He thinks he might be humming, but he can’t be bothered to care.

This warm cocoon of vanilla and light is all he needs for now.

[celuere]

prepare for trouble!

and make it double.

pairing: peruere x fem!reader x arlecchino

context: bored to death in a never ending meeting, your husband surely knows how to entertain you.

cw: arle uses her fancy domain trick on you, threesome, bossform arle, vaginal fingering, riding, bondage, cuckolding (kinda?????), squirting, degrading, size kink, a lil bit unrealistic but everything is possible in your husband’s mindscape, also capitano mention because i know he is a gentleman, not proofread

wc: 3k

art creds: drunken my boss

A/N: arle x reader tag has been so quiet lately… time for elise and me to change that. and i apologize for taking this long, lots of work drama this week and i really wanted this fic to be perfect and therefore rewrote a lot of stuff, added paragraphs where i thought we were moving on too fast, etc. because i didn’t want to look back at this work with regret albrkwnrbwkne

so i hope you enjoy!

twenty…

twenty-one…

twenty-two…

twenty-three.

that would make twenty-three windows, two doors, three chandeliers and thirty other attendees in this hall.

you and your husband not counted.

latter one was sat directly opposite of you, her attention actually focused on the conversation at hand rather than you, how you were practically melting into your chair the longer you had to listen to pierro‘s plan regarding… well, you would know if you cared to listen.

even childe was listening, usually he‘d be the first to play tic-tac-toe with you on a random napkin but tonight you were all on your own. and only celestia knows how much longer you will endure this torture.

you ran out of ways to entertain your mind long ago, counting the tiles on the ceiling, the doors, the windows, making up ridiculous stories between the present politicians, diplomats and generals and even going as far as to braid capitano‘s hair to your left. you were surprised he even let you, only sighing before he brushed his silky hair over his shoulder so your hands can have better access. you should really ask him about the conditioner he is using…

your eyes drifted over to your husband once more, red nails slowly drumming on the graphite surface of the table stretching over the hall. her tie was slightly out of place, urging you to bend over and fix its position or untie it completely. plopping the buttons of her black shirt open one by open as you worked your way down her body, letting your tongue glide over the surface of her abs down to the trail of black hair and-

crimson x’s piercing suddenly through you ripped you right out of your fantasy. of course she‘d notice your staring, an eyebrow propped up.

„everything alright?“, she didn’t need to speak those words out, but she only added to your frustration with how her eyes narrowed at your obvious flushed cheeks. you could have sworn her eyes lit up for the shortest moment, as if she‘d looked right into your head before the corners of her lips quirked up.

she really could read you like an open book.

yet her eyes weren‘t leaving yours. only sparing the cleavage of your dress a small glance.

and something shifted in the air around you when a snap echoed through the walls from somewhere far away.

you merely blinked before you found yourself no longer in the cold conference room but rather in front of the bright gloom of a crimson moon. 

with nobody present except your husband, seated on her balemoon throne and a smile so lethal plastered onto her face that caused your core to slowly melt.

„bored out of your mind, my dove?“, her voice came out as an echo, ringing through seemingly endless realm as she gestured you to come closer with a crook of her middle and index finger.

„i… arle, what happened? where did everyone else go…?“, with nervous steps you walked up to her, like a sacrifice about to get offered.

��do not worry about them, love. and certainly don‘t break your pretty little over head over it. think of this as a… secret room you‘ve found yourself in.“, she uncrossed her legs, spreading them right as you reached her, „you certainly found a liking earlier to my tie, didn‘t you?“

„oh, uh… y-yes… yes i did, it looked out of place.“, you reached out almost instinctively but instead of fixing it… your fingers got to work on loosening up the fabric. she did not seem surprised.

„hm? you want it gone altogether? i‘m not refusing, dearest. go on.“, black hands got a hold of your ass and pulled you right on her lap. 

your breath hitched when your clothed cunt came in contact with her crotch. seems like your shameless staring did wonders to her cock already. impressive if you happened to be a stranger. but as her wife, the knave always had little to no self control for you. 

you let the tie hang loose around her neck before you moved over to the buttons of her shirt. arlecchino did not stop you.

„my, are you in a haste?“

„no, i just-“

„hands off then. i‘d like to see if you‘re wearing the undergarments i bought you last week. go on.“, a black hand engulfed yours to stop you from proceeding any further and the sudden change in her tone caused your pussy to throb, oh you were so incredibly underfucked lately.

and it has only been two weeks since the last time she took you to bed.

but truth be told, you were in fact not wearing any pretty lingerie today when you pulled up the skirt of your dress because who in their right mind would think they’ll get pulled into their husband’s mindscape in the middle of a highly confidential meeting???

she only clicked her tongue, eyes displaying the obvious disappointment at the sight of your plain white panties. with a visible stain.

„a shame… i was looking forward to how the purple lace would compliment your pretty body, my flower… but alas…“, she wasted no time with rubbing her thumb over the damp spot on the cotton, tickling a gasp right out of your mouth, „i‘d take my wife wearing anything.“

those words were followed by your slip being pulled aside and caused your heart to set out for a beat, her fingers were quick to run through the slickness covering your folds.

„hah… a-anything…?“, you couldn‘t stop your hips from pushing further into her hand, fingers dancing around your aching hole. oh, she was teasing you. maybe even making you beg for it.

„ma cherie, i would show you seven different ways to heaven even if you wore a trashbag in front of me.“, tone as hard as a rock (also as something else…) and you knew she wasn‘t playing around. she was never playing around when you were involved. may the shogun strike her down if she ever lied to you.

her words caused your stomach to flare up, heat shooting up right into your cheeks at how serious she actually was before you felt her two fingers sliding into your pussy. 

„a-ahh… y-you didn‘t even let me answer-“, you bit down on your lower lip at the feeling of her digits feeling your insides up for that certain spot, yet her face was unmoved. observing you. a wolf stalking its prey right before the deadly bite.

„right, where did my manners go… it is almost like my wife hasn’t been undressing me with her eyes for the entirety of this evening.“, a shiver bolted through your body as arlecchino aimed for that neatly hidden spot, sending bolts of of ecstasy down your spine.

„it is no secret to me that that my dear wife secretly wishes for much more… filthier fantasies.“

you thought you were hallucinating for a short moment before you felt it. a pair two hands- much bigger hands- working their way from your shoulder down to your breasts. hands carrying a curse with bloody lines for skin that dragged the expensive silk of your gown below your tits.

oh god.

oh. god.

if you weren‘t already sitting in your husband‘s lap you would have surely lost your foothold. you would recognize that pattern anywhere.

„h-how-“, you gasped as her hands engulfed the soft mass of your tit, giving it a gentle squeeze.

„some questions are best left unanswered…  besides, i don‘t think you truly care about my reasoning.“, you almost overheard her words with how arlecchino‘s fingers were practically rubbing you into whimpering mess, nodding your head to her statement of which you only understood the first half. 

she was so twisted for that. so twisted and cruel for reading your fantasies like that. why did she always have to be so attentive to you??

„look at you trembling already, dove. say, does this situation arouse you, hm?“, an almost exhilarating whine escaped your lips as you felt her fingers giving your hardened buds a good pinch, only adding further to the knot in your abdomen. too much all at once. too many hands on you. too many words you have to process while arlecchino‘s fingers were working inside your clenching cunt, never missing a chance to go for that spot that caused your body to shiver and your hips to further press against her hand. 

„hah… i-it does- oh fuck-“, your first orgasm came crashing down on you like a bucket of ice water, straightening your spine and throwing your head back against what you thought to be your… other husband‘s abdomen as your walls grabbed onto arlecchino‘s fingers with no end. as if your body isn‘t already screaming for something more… filling.

like you weren‘t about to get the much bigger deal.

„so exhausted already after i merely used my fingers on you. i trained you to last much more longer than that, didn‘t i?“

the both of them hummed at your pathetic state. your exposed tits and their hardened nipples, your slick covering your husband‘s hand and sleeve and probably even her pants and yet you still looked… unfinished. as if as puzzle piece was missing. it was probably the lack of running mascara or your still very empty pussy that triggered their next action.

„i‘d like to allow myself the next turn now.“, a snap so crisp it could‘ve cut through time itself echoed throughout the bloody realm before fainting into a faraway whisper, when a yelp left your throat as multiple thicks string wrapped themselves around your limbs. especially your thighs, abdomen and both arms, lifting you off of your husband‘s lap who just… smiled at you. 

„now let me have a proper look at you, doll.“, and like clockwork your body was slowly turned around. breath catching in your throat, heart rate increasing and if your lungs weren‘t feeling too big for your chest right now you would have probably moaned screamed at the sight presenting itself to you.

you knew she was… bigger in this form. what used to be around one head taller than you now turned into around three whole heads. and you suddenly felt so small at the cursed hand working its way from your tits down to your tummy, her sprawled out fingers touching your underboob even tho she was pressing down a bit below your belly button. but most importantly was…

„wh-what is the meaning of this-“, suddenly you sucked in a sharp breath when you got moved closer to peruere, whose smile had something… sinister in it. yet it failed to scare you, only causing the painful ache between your legs to intensify.

you only heard their joined chuckles roaming through the mindscape, not mocking you. they seemed rather amused.

„my sweet doll.“, your throat bobbed when you noticed her other hand slowly unbuckling the belt, but what rather concerned you was what she was caging underneath, „you‘re not truly asking because you want an answer, right?“, she did not bother with removing the leather from its loops and only shoved the fabric just low enough to uncover her throbbing cock, the black tip already glistening with precum in the red gloom of the balemoon.

the strings kept you in a straight position as your left leg got pushed up to your chest to reveal your arousal running down your legs. the sudden exposure caused you to gasp and avert your eyes from the combination of her hard cock aligning with your drenched entrance.

your husband clicked her tongue in annoyance before a hand big enough to crush your skull with ease grabbed your face to make you look back down again.

„i want you to watch it disappear inside of you. i thought you were smart enough to remember that…“, she slowly pushed herself forward and therefore her tip right inside and holy mother on earth. 

„a-ah-!! o-oh shit!! that‘s n-not fair-!!!“, she was so big. you weren‘t even sure your poor pussy could handle that but you didn‘t even know if this was your actual physical body getting stretched out on peruere‘s cock in the first place. 

„shhhh… don‘t be so loud. we got someone to entertain after all. surely, you‘d want to do a good job for her.“, you moaned as you felt her sharp nails digging deeper into your muscles with each centimeter she further slipped into your greedy cunt. and you were losing more of your sanity with each of them, eyes darting around, unsure where to look. her stern expression? the noticeable tummy bulge? and why were you even still wearing your dress in the first place? that thing just hung loose around your waist for all it was worth. might as well just rip it off.

„oh, don‘t let my presence cause any distractions for you. i‘m more than satisfied with the view from behind here.“, her raw voice from right behind was laced with desire as thick as honey. you were honestly a bit afraid of what‘s about to come for *you* your pussy.

„goodness, she is tight… and so small compared to me.“, as if she wanted to undermine her statement, a black hand pressed down onto the bulge that formed on your, sending your mind down a spiral of ecstasy at the almost uncomfortable sensation. your mouth hung open, moans and whimpers freely leaving as they pleased before you felt the tip slipping past your g-spot and you probably never sounded louder.

a thumb rubbed circles over your aching clit as if in an attempt to further ease you around her cock.

„breathe, doll. we have done this plenty of times, surely my wife won‘t give into defeat this early on. i trained you much better than this.“, you could only imagine those crimson eyes roaming over your trembling figure, how the strings gently squeezed your flesh and kept you in place. the only ones that allowed you to mildly move around were attached to your arms, one hand currently grabbing for dear life onto peruere‘s neck to somehow anchor yourself. you knew she couldn‘t possibly fit all the way inside of you. but you wanted her to. you wanted her to use you like a fleshlight so bad, to drag you on and off her throbbing cock like you weighed nothing in her eyes.

„i think our pretty girl is pretty much at her wits end already… and i am barely halfway inside. but this will also do.“, a hand came up to tilt your head upward to face her when she carefully pulled back- to push herself inside again, „look at you, i just started moving and you are already threatening to tear up.“, she couldn‘t help but lick her lips at the pathetic sight in front of her as she brushed the salty fluid off with her thumb, only for them to grow glassy again when she turned the pace up once more. slick running down your leg as your vision grew hazy with her cock pumping in and out of your still adjusting pussy. you could barely hear arlecchino‘s words over the filthy sounds from your cunt.

„surely you want her to come inside of you. isn’t that so, lovely?“, she sounded way nearer than a few moments earlier before you felt a pair of soft lips planting themselves on your neck and two hands coming up to cup your pretty tits, massaging them, squeezing them. you‘re going to die of a heart attack here.

„i‘ll take that as a yes-”, she ended her sentence with a sharp hiss as your nail scratched over her neck hard enough to draw blood when you felt it.

it was a rare occasion. often it was caused by overstimulation or when arlecchino was actively trying for it, but squirting over her cock on your second orgasm when all she did was move her hips in a fairly medium-paced manner? it was embarrassing. the way you gushed all over her fat dick, pants and heels oh you will never hear the end of it.

„my, what a stamina you have today, dearest…“, long fingers sneaked from your breast down to spread your still leaking pussy apart, causing you to automatically grip onto your husbands biceps.

„ah-!! wait- i-i‘m still sensitive-!“, you started sobbing on the spot at how your poor cunt was only penetrated further.

but do you also wanna know what comes with a bigger dick? bigger loads.

with one last push of her hips and a low grunt emitting from her throat, peruere emptied herself inside of you, thick ropes of white painting your pussy and you were full of her. 

„mhm… get it all in there… gosh, look at that pretty pussy taking my cum…“, arlecchino pushed her two fingers inside as peruere retreated from you, a thick string of both of your juices connecting you to her tip before it snapped.

„p-please hold on- ah-!“, poor you couldn’t help but beg for a little break, you were just so overwhelmed with her fingers playing in your cum-filled pussy…

„what about your input?“

„huh?“

„your input, [name].“

you felt like somebody just straight up punched you right into the gut when you found yourself back inside the conference room. with all the attention suddenly focused on you.

„m-my-”, you quickly had to clear your throat with a few coughs, trying to ignore how beyond soaked you were, „my input on what exactly…?“, you masked it but you were fucking panicking on the inside. and your husband was merely raising an eyebrow at you. 

just then capitano leaned down to your ear, „it‘s about arlecchino‘s deployment in liyue for the next month, as her wife they want your opinion on the matter.“, and he still had that stupid braid in his hair.

„ah, thank you… i have no objections regarding the upcoming plans.“, that was all it took for everyone to take their eyes off of you. 

except for one person.

her x‘s were resting on you. piercing through your face as she crosses her arms.

that’s when you noticed the scratch on her neck. a fresh one.

[kazucee]

.ᐟ 𝐐𝐗𝐂3: I actually love the trope royal knight x lady in waiting. Now imagine that with our favourite loser—Phainon.

Didn't count the words since I just wrote it on tumblr on a whim TT + it's a pretty short drabble teehee. I've been having a huge writer's block so apologies if the entire thing came out clunky and unnatural.

Not proofread- If you see any mistakes, no you don't. Possibly ooc. Yeah okay...

Being captain of the Royal guard sure had its perks, while the rest of them suffer under grueling training and the constant clamour of metal against metal, he gets the liberty of attending to the beck and call of the royal family. Phainon wasn't one to complain when presented with mountains of work, in fact he handled everything with an easy smile on his face, as if there was nothing he would rather be doing. To be a knight was to serve, just like how the sun was made to shine.

To serve the kingdom, to serve the family, and to serve the darling that has managed to capture his heart. So it was no surprise that he could always be found by the princess' side.

The rumor mill has conjured up yet another amusing one: Sir Phainon seems to fancy a certain princess. He wanted to laugh, wanted to tell everyone that although he accompanies the princess constantly throughout the castle, his gaze remains perpetually fixed on someone else entirely—her lady in waiting. You.

So did he just happen to be lingering on the kitchen doorway as you mander about just to catch your eye? Maybe. As he stood by peaking his head into the kitchen he recognizes the scent of lemon meringue pie, he assumed it was requested by the princess, you always seemed to have a certain fondness when it came to the bubbly lady and Phainon couldn't help the small smile that would grace his lips every time he saw you two with arms intertwined as she chatters on about the latest gossip.

When you did finally put down that iron fist of yours and turn to see an amused Phainon your face would give a twitch of surprise before morphing back to its usual indifference. "Don't you have troops to order around, captain?" You remarked as you pushed past him to make your way towards the princesses chambers.

"After seeing your performance in the kitchen earlier, I'm thinking of handing that task over to you, you seem to hold an astounding amount of authority over most people." Phainon revelled in the way you scoffed to hide your smile. You didn't even notice that he was trying to match the pace of your walk with his long legs, hands folded behind his back, the epitome of carefree saved for the way his heart hammered against his ribs.

"are you suggesting we switch roles for the day?" You supply an answer to his ridiculous banter.

"I think you'd look lovely clad in armour and the royal knight uniform." When you glanced at him, he looked sincere, like he was actually considering the idea. You managed an eyeroll at the notion.

"I share your sentiments. I'm sure you'd look lovely in my uniform as well, or better yet a dress with many flounces and frills perhaps." Now it was Phainons turn to snort.

You see some maids pass by the two of you with a gleam in their eyes, a gleam that gives you the feeling that a new rumor would spread tonight, one that rang partly true.

"where are you headed to?" Phainon asks, eyes drifting towards the many portraits hung across the hallway, distracting himself as to not stare at you. He thinks it's a shame that you wouldn't have a portrait of your own, a beauty like yours needs to be framed in gold and adored by anyone who walks by. He decided that he would learn to paint.

"why are you asking?" You raise a brow at him.

"what if it's dangerous?" Phainon mimicked your look, raising a pale brow of his own. You honestly wonder how this man became the captain of the Royal guard, the famed sun born hero, the revered knight of the kingdom. To you he looked like the boy you had known all your life, frost bitten hair paired with warm cerulean blue waves, with a grin that held a certain amount of charm and mischief. It was hard to imagine that the young boy was now a man.

"you do realize that we're in the palace. The most safeguarded place in the entire kingdom." You reply, voice flat as you try to keep up with his antics.

"danger never sleeps" was his reply, shrugging his shoulders. Although he has a point, you thought him ridiculous, as always.

"I'm the safest I can be right now" your voice was like a breeze, easy and light. You turned to face him halting your walk making Phainon pause mid step to fix his stare on you. His stare held a certain intensity that made you nervous.

"how can you be so sure?" Phainon challenged, crossing his arms as he leaned against the marble walls. There was a look he had on his face, one that made you want to knock it off. Which you successfully did once he heard your answer.

"I'm accompanied by the captain of course" you said without thinking, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. What you didn't realize was how true those words were. How at this moment, there is no one in the entire kingdom—not King, nor Queen or Princess—who's more safeguarded than you. How Phainon was willing to do anything and everything in his power to guarantee that you'd be safely escorted anywhere, even if it was just around the castle. You didn't realize just how much Phainon was ready to put on the line just to make sure that you would go out unscathed, unharmed.

Facing him, you could see the way his form shifted and his expression had changed into something unrecognizable before he broke off his gaze to look at yet another painting of some king that had died a long time ago. At the angle he presented you, your eyes trace against his sharp jawline, his adams apple as it bobbed upwards when he swallowed, and the faint dusting of pink across his cheeks.

What an unexpected reaction you thought as you continued to stare daggers into him. It was at that very moment where the captain of the Royal guard was rendered completely defenseless despite his sword being sheathed within reach.

//Sigh// I love lover loser golden retrievers boys. Hope you enjoyed~

[afsalovescats]

helloo !! i was wondering if you could write something with beast dazai <3 maybe where hes readers husband or something like that ヾ(´▽｀;)ゝi feel like he would be a sweetheart with the one he loves

omg beast dazai is literally so AGGHHHHHHHH

need him.

heheheehe ^ 3 ^

sorry for being on and off u guys, luv u sm. take care of urselfs <3

Dazai was something. That was for sure. Your husband was a little crazy, but you didn't mind. He was so sweet with you.

Your husband has such a huge obsession with you. One of them is touching. You can't think of a time where his hands weren't on you. Caressing each part of your body, holding you, just skin against skin was something he favored. Its genuinely a problem since most of the time he genuinely could not function with you around. He needs to consume you whole, you think.

I mean despite him being a scary and complex figure, he masked that up pretty well..? You knew he loved his spouse- you, very dearly. You clutched his heart in your hands tightly, he simply could not resist you.

Perhaps this is why currently you are under him on the couch, his kisses softly yet slowly trace from your temple, to your forehead, your eyelid, nose and so on. You simply close your eyes basking in the moment. His semi chapped lips planting kisses wherever he could reach.

His hands trail against your body, touching anywhere, but he favored your waist. He loved any and every part of you.

Sometimes he didn't tell you things, but you knew there was something. You wouldn't bug him about it which he appreciated.

Then he nips at your neck slightly harsh and you instinctively your eyes shoot up. Glancing down at him. You keep on staring at him, telepathically communicating 'what was that for?'. He lets out a dry chuckle as if to telepathically communicate 'nothing'.

It seemed none of you wanted to break the quiet moment, nor the eye contact. So he slowly trails up, his lips finding yours. It fit perfectly, so perfect. you gently close your eyes as you reciprocate.

You didn't know for how long, but you knew it'd been a while. Kissing and smooching and combining lips, over and over again. Dazai's lip kept on finding yours as they continued their worship on yours. You then placed a hand over his heart, it was pounding. Sometimes he felt you were the only one who could make it beat, which sounded ridiculous but it was somewhat of an understatement.

"you know I can never resist you," he murmurs, but he didn't even have to. His eyes communicated with yours as a small smile graces his lips. He gently nips at your bottom lip, then traces it with his tongue. To apologize, you assume.

You get really content after a little. Really really content. You ended up falling asleep mid make out session. He didn't even really notice until after a minute. He pauses and furrows his brows. He felt offended for a second, 'am I boring you?' he thought.

But as quickly as it comes it goes. You looked so vulnerable. You trusted him if you fell asleep like this. He simply stares at you. Then plants a kiss as he dims the lights, enough to see you. Then grabs a blanket as he lays over your chest with the blanket covering you both.

After his eyes continue tracing your features as you slept peacefully, his hand gently slides up to yours. The one with the ring. The pretty one he got you, that you loved and adored. He eyes it. Bring's it up to his lips, kissing that finger. Then each knuckle and finger tip separately. This goes on for a little until sleep consumes him. You both fall asleep and wake up together later that day. You enjoyed moments like these. especially with him. Your husband and you.

[humiliatemeplesse]

When the faggot told it's Dom boyfriend that it had a fetish for sniffing guy's sweaty smelly socked feet, it hoped that He would understand since it believed He loved it and that He would help it satiate it's need. However, its boyfriend laughed at it and told it that it was pathetic to have such a lowly, stupid fetish. But, He said, if that's what you need, I'll give it to you since you're such a good boy otherwise. The fag filled with excitement and thanked its boyfriend over and over. The next night, when it's boyfriend came home from work and the gym, both places where He wore the same pair of socks in His work boots and workout shoes, He told the fag to lay on the floor at the foot of the couch where He was sitting. He put both sweaty, smelly, stinking socked feet on the faggots face and used it as His footstool all night long. He told the faggot it was not to speak or get up to do anything, to not even move. The only thing it could do was raise its hand if it had to use the toilet. That was it. So the faggot smothered under it's bf's stinking socked feet for hours and hours, their heavy weight on its face. The next day, the same thing happened. And the next day. And the next day. At first the fag was thrilled with this treatment, but eventually it felt like it was too much, that it'd like to have some "nights off" or maybe do it only three days a week. It got up the nerve to ask its bf one morning when it was making breakfast for them before work. it's bf looked it straight in the eye and said in a very serious time of authority, you asked for this, I think it's ridiculous and frankly embarrassing for you. If I had known this about you I wouldn't have even dated you nevermind moved in with you. But, you've been such a good boy otherwise and do everything I tell you to do that I decided to give you this one thing. This one pathetic, embarrassing thing. You asked for it, I've given it to you. So now you're going to accept my incredible gift and shut the fuck up and not complain about it or you can pack your shit and leave. Now I'd hate that, but it's up to you. I'm giving you a gift, take it or not. But this is going to be every night, and on weekends too. This is what you want and as they say, be careful what you ask for. The fag apologized and begged for forgiveness and got in the floor and kissed it's bf's boots. It was never discussed again and the fag ended up hating having it's bf's sweaty socked feet on its face every single day but there was nothing it could do about it. So it suffered in His sock stink every single day for the rest of its life. it's bf got a hard-on while this happened every day due to the sadistic nature of how He handled it, with complete, unquestioned control of His little slave sub bf. He'd often make it suck Him off right after but the fag never associated the act with any sadism on its bf's part.

[foreingersgod]

Is this my shirt? . PB

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

giving you all a cliche little drabble to hold us over until i can finish “champagne coast” lol !! so apologies for how rushed this is!

you had been on paige’s mind all day. no matter what she was doing-trying to focus on drills at practice or listen to another one of kk’s ridiculous stories-you consumed her every waking thought.

the two of you hadn’t been able to spend much time together recently, despite living within the same walls. you had been occupied with your new internship whilst paige seemed to be out of the house more than usual. it had started to drain the both of you, having you both longing for each others company. it’d been about a week since you had a full night to yourselves and luckily, you both managed to have tonight open for some much needed quality time. paige was ecstatic to say the least, all she wanted was to reveal in your presence, no matter what that may entail.

she was taking the last turn to get to your apartment complex, mind still dancing with images of you. paige had never packed up her things and ran out of that gymnasium so quickly. now she was in her car, fingers restlessly tapping against the steering wheel as she made her way back to you. she full on sprinted the entire way to the door, turning off the ignition in a haste and grabbing her bag.

after finally stepping through the door and locking it behind her, paige toed off her shoes and set her bag somewhere off to the side. the house, she noticed, was dim with the only light being from the living room lamp. typical considering you always hated the “big” light. the quiet notes of your reading playlist filled her ears almost instantly, traveling from somewhere in the bedroom. so she wasted no time in meandering down the hallway, footsteps heavy on the carpet as she approached the closed door.

her heart melted when she saw you, door creaking open to reveal your ethereal figure. you were perched up in bed with a quite lengthy book in your lap. your meaty manicured fingers traced over the yellowing pages and your mouth moved ever so slightly as you whispered the sentences to yourself. your head shot up when you heard her come in, the most beautiful smile working its way onto your face. oh how she loved your smile.

“hey, baby!” you chimed, setting the book aside. she watched as you leaned over to your nightstand, reaching for your phone to pause your music “how was practice?”

“same as usual” she shrugged, dragging over to you dramatically, making you chuckle. her body flopped onto the end of the bed, her head coming to rest on your thigh “missed you s’much though”

“missed you too, paige” you allowed your fingers to roam into her hair, nails massaging gently across her scalp “been wantin’ you all day”

“yeah?” she smirked as she looked up at you. every day it seemed to get harder to pull her eyes away from you.

“yeah” you breathed, softly grabbing her chin to motion her to move up the bed. she complied without a second thought as she crawled her way next to you. it was true, you’d been practically craving her from the moment you’d gotten home. you were genuinely happy at your internship, excited to move up in your career, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to head right back home and be with paige.

“you’re all i thought about today” her hands gripped your waist, pulling you over to straddle her lap “could barely make a shot”

you leaned into her touch, back arching into her when you felt her hand run from the small of your back to the waistband of your shorts. paige welcomed the pressure, now chest to chest with you, leaning in to place kisses along your jawline. the action alone was enough to extract a small moan from deep in your throat.

“well i couldn’t even pay attention to what my boss was saying today at our meeting” you attempted to counter her, competing for who-missed-who more. but paige continued her assault on your smooth skin, lips trailing down your neck. in urgency, she grasped onto the hem of your shirt and began to pull it over your head. but much to your dismay, she stopped abruptly to interrupt you “i don’t even know what he was talking about, i was so focused on y-”

“is this my shirt?”

the sudden question shocked you. here you were, getting all hot and bothered after barely seeing paige for days, and all she was worried about was the shirt you had on? she pinched at the navy blue tee that devoured your entire upper body, eyeballing the threads that unraveled at the hem. you looked at her sheepishly, realizing you had just thrown it on mindlessly for comfort.

“um i don’t know-yea i think” you blinked, bummed from the lack of contact that her lips once had on your chest “sorry, i just really missed you today and i wanted to be close to you so…i don’t know it thought it would help. but i can give it back! here i’ll go put it back in your closet!”

you tried to move off of her, feeling guilty for taking her shirt without asking for permission. you had worn her clothes before, but never without checking to see if it was ok with her first. it was just one of your things, hating to not get consent before doing something even if paige insisted that it was ok. but she loved that about you. loved that you were sweet enough to ask, that you cared more about her than some silly shirt.

“baby, baby, baby” she whispered, stopping you from getting off of her “you don’t need to do that, keep it on”

“oh” you said, belly fluttering when she gave you a ditsy smile “are you sure?”

“mhm,” she pulled you in for a kiss, tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth “looks good on you, look so hot in my clothes”

it felt electric, the way she was enchanting you into her embrace. how she went back to her initial intentions, sucking dark purple marks on your collarbone, not even letting you get a word out. your hands flew to the back of her head as they drew her in closer. you don’t think you could ever get enough of paige.

“if it gets you riled up like this?” you all but panted, hips grinding against hers urgently “then i’ll be sure to wear them more often”

“don’t even need the shirt” she said out of breath as she let her head fall back against the headboard. her eyes roamed the structure of your face, not wanting to ever forget such a sight. she took one of your hands, placing in on her chest as it rose and fell rapidly, then slowly guiding it lower and lower. you got to the cincture of her basketball shorts, allowing her to push your hand past the untied strings and eventually the elastic of her boxers. your breath caught in your throat when you reached her aching core, feeling the arousal between her legs. she let out an exasperated groan as she felt your fingers where she needed them most. this had been what she was waiting for all day.

“this is what you do to me, don’t even have to try”

[brunchable]

You told Bucky that, 'He's right' 《Drabble》

Words: ≈600

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x f!reader.

A/N: omg i actually wrote a short story. Dunno if you'd call it a drabble if its >100words but eh. Divider is mine :)

Bucky stared down at his phone, his brow furrowed in confusion. He sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at the door you had just walked through after the argument. Everything about the situation felt... wrong.

"Did I hear that right?" he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You had said the words no married man expects to hear, especially after an argument: "You're right."

A cold sweat broke out on Bucky's forehead. He picked up his phone and hurriedly typed a message to Sam, his thumbs flying over the keys like it was a mission.

Bucky: Hey, I just had an argument with Y/N, and she just told me I was right. What do I do next?

Sam's response came almost immediately, as if he'd been waiting for the exact moment Bucky's world flipped upside down.

Sam: Oh no. What did you do?

Bucky: That's the thing! I didn’t do anything!

Sam: Doubt it. Check again. You definitely did something.

Bucky got up and peeked out the bedroom door. You were calmly sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone as if nothing monumental had just occurred. No fuming. No angry glares. You even had a tiny smile on your face. That, more than anything, terrified Bucky.

He quickly shut the door and leaned against it, typing with even more urgency.

Bucky: I swear! She just said, “You’re right.”

Sam: She said WHAT?

Bucky: “You’re right,” Sam. I’m not messing with you. What do I do? Is this a trap?

A long pause followed. Sam was probably trying to process what Bucky was saying, and that made Bucky even more nervous. His phone buzzed with another message.

Sam: Listen, man, if she said you're right, there's no going back. You’re in uncharted territory now. Just apologize.

Bucky: But she said I’m right!

Sam: And you’re still wrong. Did your Dad not tell you that women are always right?!

Bucky's mind raced. What if this was some sort of test? What if this was a new form of argument he had never encountered before?

Bucky: Okay, but what do I apologize for?

Sam: For breathing. For existing. Pick one, man. Just go with it.

Bucky sighed, rubbing his temples. None of this made sense. He felt like a soldier in a war zone, except the enemy was invisible, and the battle lines were non-existent. He looked at his phone one last time, hoping for some final piece of wisdom from Sam.

Sam: If she said you're right, just apologize and bring her chocolate. And flowers. Actually, maybe throw in a puppy just to be safe.

Bucky: A puppy? Where am I supposed to get a puppy at this hour?

Sam: Figure it out. Good luck, man. It was nice knowing you.

Bucky groaned, shoving the phone in his pocket. He paced for a few minutes, trying to figure out the best approach. Finally, with a deep breath, he walked into the living room, feeling like he was marching to his doom.

You looked up at him with a raised brow. "Something on your mind?"

Bucky cleared his throat, feeling a bead of sweat slide down his back. "Listen, doll, about earlier... I just wanted to say I’m... sorry."

Your brow furrowed slightly. "For what?"

"For... being right?"

Your lips twitched, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, hiding a smile. "Oh, really?"

Bucky shifted nervously. "Yeah, and for... everything else. Just... all of it."

You finally burst into laughter, doubling over as you clutched your stomach. "Oh, Bucky, you’re ridiculous."

Bucky blinked, completely thrown off. "Wait, what? So I’m not in trouble?"

You shook her head, wiping away tears of laughter. "No, you goof, why would you be? I just didn’t feel like arguing anymore. I knew you'd spiral the moment I said you were right."

Bucky blinked. “So, you were messing with me.”

You grinned mischievously, shrugging a shoulder. "Just a little. But I like the apology."

Bucky shook his head with a grin. “I swear, you’re going to be the death of me, doll.”

As you laughed, Bucky’s phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen to see another message from Sam.

Sam: You still alive?

Bucky: Barely. You owe me a puppy.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ SORCERY SCHEMES — GETO SUGURU.

contents. non sorcery au!, husband! suguru, gn! reader, nanako and mimiko are still your kids, silly lil shenanigans of cult leader! suguru being in your dreams

suguru has been the source of your anger for lots of things over the years. some fair, others not so much.

that one important date he accidentally missed because he got caught up at work. that time you vented and he tried to tell you to toughen up instead of picking your side. that time he accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the laundry. that time he fell asleep while you were talking late at night (he had insisted he was tired, in his defense—you were just too stubborn to let him sleep.)

marriage has its ups and downs, but suguru likes to think you’re a strong couple—but this? this is the most outrageously ridiculous reason to be mad at him—he’s simply at a loss.

“so let me get this straight,” he starts slowly, as if trying to comprehend something far too complex for his simple mind, “you’re mad at me because i had some superpowers in your dream—”

“it was sorcery,” you hiss, “were you even listening?”

“right. sorry. i was…a sorcerer,” he apologizes. he looks at you like you’re insane—your eye twitches just a little. “and then suddenly i went crazy in the head and killed a village and adopted nanako and mimiko and…left. to basically cleanse an entire demographic. is that right?”

“you had a cult too.”

“and the cult,” he nods slowly, “can’t forget the cult.”

“yeah,” you glower—if looks could kill, suguru thinks he might have never been born at all. this is a new one, he has to admit. “and it was really fucking rude. you left. and you took the kids before i could even meet them.”

“okay,” he says tiredly, rubbing his forehead, “baby, i don’t know if you realize this, but i don’t…i can’t perform sorcery. and i don’t have a cult i can lead either. i’m just a literature teacher—”

“i know what you are,” you snap, shoving away the hand he tries to reach at you with, “you’re a selfish psychopath who committed heinous crimes and left me single and alone as you led a group of people to follow your crazy ideas. don’t even think about touching me—”

“so do you want me to apologize?” he sighs, “because i’m sorry—”

“what if i left you? huh? and just started killing everyone who has blue eyes? what then? i’ll take the kids this time and leave you alone, see how you like it.”

“well, at least that gets rid of satoru,” he mutters quietly. and then he grins—chuckles a soft little laugh that makes the edges of your lips curl just a bit. “you’re crazy,” he snorts, shaking his head. and then— “but i love you. c’mere.”

you don’t fight the hand the reaches towards you this time, letting his arm curl around your waist and pull you into his side. that’s a good sign, he thinks, so he tests the waters and plants a kiss to your head. you melt just a little.

“i’m still mad at you,” you mumble.

“yeah, i figured,” he grins, “anything i can do to erase my sins as a mass murderer?”

“you can make breakfast,” you hum, leaning closer as you rub circles into his chest, “and wash the dishes.”

“easy enough,” he nods, pulling a scowl from you.

“you’re not off the hook yet,” you click your teeth.

“of course,” he nods in agreement, “i still have to atone for my radical actions. i’ll start by resurrecting all the people i killed. that should do it, right?”

“suguru, be serious,” you huff, “i was very sad, okay?”

“did you miss me?” he wriggles his brows—you look at him incredulously before slapping his chest. he chuckles a little too long for your liking.

“what a stupid question,” you pinch your nose, “so if i became delusional and ran off to erase a population, you wouldn’t be upset with me?”

“actually, i’d follow you because i love you,” he shrugs, pinching your nose lightly, “i’d be your cult’s second-in-command. obviously you just didn’t love me enough in your dream to do the same for me.”

“you didn’t invite me,” you pout through a glare, “what was i supposed to do? show up unwelcome?”

“well, nothing was stopping you. was i at least a strong sorcerer?” he asks in wonder.

you think for a moment before nodding. “yeah,” you say thoughtfully, “one of the strongest.”

“nice,” he grins—he seems a bit too pleased for something that happened in your dreams.

you decide to deal the harsh blow. “but not nearly as strong as satoru. you know he was the literally the strongest?”

“okay,” he scowls, “if you do kill blue-eyed people, start with him.”

you giggle, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he lets a soft grin pull over his features. he laughs with you—and suddenly, you’re both chuckling together uncontrollably.

it’s a bit of a silly circumstance, but he kisses your forehead and means it when he says, “sorry i left you to kill people and led a cult and committed a bunch of crimes while i wiped out a whole group of people. i didn’t mean it.”

“you took the kids too,” you remind him.

“i don’t know what i was thinking,” he shakes his head, “those two are a handful. how was i managing being a single father with all that on my plate?”

“that’s why you shouldn’t have left me,” you point out.

“you’re right,” he agrees, “i’ll invite you if i ever snap and lose my sanity.”

“good. you’re forgiven. now, i want chocolate chip pancakes—and make coffee while you’re at it.”

“yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes. he kisses you though, a soft little peck over your lips as you hum into the kiss and cup his cheek, “you got it. whatever you want.”

“i want you,” you murmur, “unhinged sorcerer and all.”

he laughs at the craziness of it all—but he loves it anyway, loves you despite it all.

“and i want you too,” he grins, hopelessly in love, “if you’ll do me the honors and join my crazy sorcery schemes.”

hi i’m tee and i had a dream that my rude ass sister stole my car and totaled it and now im very mad at her and i am not speaking to her until she apologizes. she refuses so im now double mad