#d&d-themed pronouns

[inkys-neos-n-names]

D&D-themed pronouns

Die/dice

Roll/rolls

Stat/stats

Check/checks

Level/levels

Hit/point

Game/games

Role/roleplay

Chara/character

Dungeon/dungeons

Drag/dragons or dragon/dragons

Bat/battle

Quest/quests

Mag/magic

Spell/spells

Mon/monster

Monster-themed neos (mi/mimic, gob/goblin, bug/bugbear, etc.)

Creature type-themed neos (fey/feym, un/undead, ooze/oozes, fiend/fiends, etc.)

Class-themed neos (rogue/rogues, range/ranger, war/warlock, fight/fighter, etc.)

Weapon-themed neos (sword/swords, bow/bows, spear/spears, etc.)

Race-themed neos (elf/elfs, dwarf/dwarfs, tie/tiefling, gno/gnome, etc.)

[krazys-ass-emporium]

I would like to point out that my pronouns are she/her.

[shepscapades]

Thanks to artfight, I’ve finally finished a detailed, official dbhc cub reference! :D

(I’ve put his Artifight description below the cut, which has a more detailed explanation of his timeline, lore, and aesthetics! >:3)

-ˋˏ ༻ ❁ ��OVERVIEW ❁ ༺ ˎˊ-

Name: C.B.F.N.4000 (Cub) Pronouns: He/Him Species: Android Height: 5’9’’ Associated Visual Themes: vex, ghosts, explosions, mischief, scientist aesthetic, potions, potionmaking, sleepy/tired aesthetic, conspiracies

-ˋˏ ༻ ❁  ABOUT ❁ ༺ ˎˊ-

CBFN4000 is an au version of MCYT Hermitcraft’s Cubfan, set in my DBHC (or Detroit Become Hermitcraft) AU! This au is inspired by the 2018 game Detroit Become Human, but not because it really has anything to do with DBH—I simply yoinked the android mechanics and incorporated them into the world of Hermitcraft. It began as a S8 au, and has roughly followed the hermitcraft timeline up to the present! 

Cub was the last android made during Season 8. While many of the hermit androids were made at the beginning of season 8 and a few were made for season 9, Cub was finished and activated mid-late Season 8, around the time when Hermits started noticing the Big Moon. Cub’s model ended up being a sloppy experiment in deviation, as Doc suggested they try to transfer deviancy to an android upon activation to try and avoid traumatic situations that might cause an android to deviate violently or upsettingly, such as Etho’s, Tango’s, or Mumbo’s experiences. While this went relatively well initially, it clearly wasn’t very thoroughly thought out, as Xisuma (who is normally so adamant and detail-oriented when it comes to assuring the androids’ safety with experiments like this) wasn’t truly himself due to external manipulation and mostly left a relatively young-deviant Doc to carry out the project himself. 

Cub, though adjusting to sentience rather well at first, very quickly became wrapped up in the Big Moon happenings on the server, new personality and inexperience to emotions like fear and ignorance completely overwhelming his young system. He became obsessive over the implications and consequences of the Season 8 Moon Apocalypse, joining the Mooners and spreading his conspiracy theories religiously throughout the server as he descended into madness. The insanity was like a virus to his programming, pervasive and all-engulfing, and Cub’s final attempt to free himself from the Moon’s impact with the Earth—to launch himself on a llama into space via potion-powered TNT(insane btw)— left his hands and feet singed and cracked to ruin.

The experiment, considered a horrific failure by a deeply shameful—and more awake—S9 Xisuma, left Doc and Xisuma with the decision to reset him for the new season, and they ended up pairing him with a hermit like they had done with the other androids until they had found deviancy enough to pursue their own projects. So, at the start of season 9 and fresh after a reset, Cub was paired with Scar. Naturally, because Scar is… Scar, Cub deviated almost instantly after being given to him, and very quickly adopted the iconic lazy, stoic, amused attributes normally associated with Cubfan. Scar’s tendency towards mischief and general shenanigans grew instantly on Cub, and the two were an immediate inseparable pair. So much so that when Scar began rambling one day about his Season 5 Hermitcraft Shenanigans (where deals with the Vex may or may not have been involved), Cub immediately stated he was interested in being in on it. Whatever “it” means. It’s unclear if Cub also made a deal with the vex or became connected to them in some other way, but… well, he got Doc’s help to trick out his eyes, hair, and back to best fit the part. Scar is very jealous that he can't magically make himself have the same features to match.

Cub is closest with Scar, but he gets along just as well with any of the other hermits! He’s close with Jevin and many of the other redstoners like Etho and Doc, who are the other two androids I’ve put on artfight!

-ˋˏ ༻ ❁  EXTRAS ❁ ༺ ˎˊ-

Cub's eyes can light up in the dark, and he’s the only android who has edited his programming so that the default state of his LED is white, not blue. It still will go yellow and red if his processors are working particularly hard, but he’s replaced the blue setting on his LED with white to better match the Vex vibe. Cub has all of the vibes of a fae. If that’s anything <3

[czernsey]

the specific thing cis men do where they refuse to gender a binary trans person right to the point that they start they/theming Everyone is going to be the reason i snap and kill my brother

[keerysfreckles]

hey bby 💕 said you were looking a luke castellan plot so here’s one :) so like luke is actually exhausted coming back from a quest that didn’t go super well and he can’t sleep at night because he keeps having nightmares (maybe of the reader dying?), so he starts coming to the reader at night asking if he can sleep in their bed because he feels safer and can feel that they’re alright and then it’s just the evolution of the routine and how they get closer :) no worries if you don’t want to do it btw !

hope ur ok — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x demeter fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, like one mention of blood/wounds, angst if you squint

a/n: I LOVE THIS ITS SO- UGH

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

luke sat upright in his bed. a thin coat of sweat covered his forehead. for the past three nights, ever since he got back from his quest, he's been having nightmares. the first two weren't special. they were the same as the others he normally got. tonight however was different.

he was in a desert, the sky was dark. there was a low wind, causing the sand beneath his feet to move slightly. a yellow fog spread throughout the desert, and suddenly, y/n appeared. at first he thought his dream self imagined it, almost like a hallucination. but no, y/n was surely there.

y/n was made out of sand, the wind blowing past her, making luke see her features more clearly.

"y/n?" luke calls out. he tries to walk closer to her, but the wind picks up and the sand starts covering his feet, halting his movements.

the wind starts to get stronger, pushing luke and y/n away from each other.

"luke!" she yells, trying to get closer to him.

a low growl is emitted from behind y/n, making her turn.

"y/n!" luke calls again, his voice becoming dry from the sand in the air. luke's eyes widen at the sight of a beast fully appearing behind the struggling girl.

luke's dream self continues to call for y/n, until his voice gets caught in his throat at the sight in front of him. he watches as the beast brings his clawed hand up, about to attack y/n.

luke looks out his window, trying his best to forget about the dream he had moments ago. yet it was worthless. he rubbed his eyes before throwing his blanket off of his lower body.

he grabbed his jacket, knowing it got cold at night, and made his way out of his own cabin and towards y/n's.

was the idea risky? yes.

but the hermes boy couldn't care. he was in risk of getting caught by a patrolling harpy. or he could get caught by chrion or mr d. (that was even worse in his opinion) or he was worried y/n wouldn't even want to see him at this time of night. but he just had to make sure the girl was okay.

luke stopped in front of cabin four, staring over the greenery around most of the wood planks and columns.

he didn't bother knocking, and as quietly as he could the boy opened the door covered in moss. it only creaked slightly. luke was quiet again as he shut the door.

the greenery theme followed throughout the cabin. it wasn't as prominent as it was on the exterior. green vines hung on the walls, and small purple and yellow flowers bloomed wherever grass patches were on the hardwood ground.

luke was hoping y/n wouldn't be mad at him for sneaking into her cabin. the two were friends, but don't talk much outside of archery.

there were seven beds in the cabin, none of them being bunk beds like the hermes cabin had. luke made it to the sixth bed and saw y/n asleep. her back was turned to luke, making her face the window.

luke nudged her shoulder. no response.

he did the motion again, hearing a small gasp come from the girl. "luke?" she turned around after rubbing her eyes, making sure they weren't playing tricks on her.

"what are you doing here?" her voice was soft, in order to not wake up any of her half sisters. (there weren't any sons of demeter, no one had really questioned it).

luke stammers, "i uh, couldn't sleep. had another nightmare."

y/n was full sitting now, with her blanket pooling around her waist. "what happened? in the nightmare?"

luke shakes his head, "i'd rather not talk about it." the more he thought about it, the more he only wanted to protect y/n.

y/n looked around her bed, before getting an idea.

"do you want to sleep here? with me?" she offered, quickly catching luke off guard.

"are you sure? what if someone catches us?"

y/n smiles and pulls her blanket down for luke to join her. "then we worry about it tomorrow. you need to get some rest. you have to teach archery tomorrow."

luke reciprocates a smile before sliding in the bed next to y/n. he tosses his jacket on the ground, now getting comfortable under y/n's dark green blanket. it reminded him of grass, but it wasn't itchy like the greenery in the door.

after a few moments of silence, luke turns to y/n, seeing she was facing the window again.

"can i hold you?" luke's voice is raspy and soft. he was worried y/n didn't hear him, until she turned again to face him.

she only nods, making the two maneuver in the bed. y/n is closer to luke now, as she's laying on her side to face him. he rests his head on her chest. both of his arms are wrapped around her waist gently, pulling the girl even closer to him.

luke can hear y/n's heartbeat, which instantly calms him down from the nightmare he had that night. a gesture she didn't even know she was doing, would calm him down more than she knew.

as luke started to fall asleep, he felt y/n's finger in his hair. her nails were lightly scratching his scalp, and her fingers played with his dark curls. she kisses the top of his head, before she whispers, "goodnight luke."

[ichorai]

letters of loki ; david loki (m).

pairing ; david loki x reader (afab, gender-neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; nsfw alphabet + micro-drabbles for each letter.

words ; 4.0k

themes ; smut, fluff, barely-there angst, established relationship

warnings / includes ; mentions of scars, unprotected sex, mentions of bondage, oral sex, light roleplay, 'honey' as a pet name, david being exhausted </3

a/n ; been in a terrible fic-writing slump so i tried out the nsfw alphabet format for the first time! hope you all enjoy :)

main masterlist.

A — AFTERCARE

Definitely the kind to hold you close after the act, his arms firmly wrapped around your waist, his nose buried into your shoulder. David’s mostly silent, but would gladly listen and hum along if you wanted to start up any kind of pillowtalk. He just likes hearing the sound of your voice. Eventually, however, he’d get up to take a shower (he’s a creature of habit, after all), and bring you anything you needed, like a glass of water or a damp towel. 

“Your hair’s wet,” you mumbled in complaint when he slipped back under the covers after his brief shower. His cold hands slipped beneath the wrinkled button-up shirt you were wearing (his, he realized a second later), and you made a disgruntled noise.

“Sorry, honey,” he replied with a soft huff of a laugh, but made no move to shift away. Instead, he pressed closer, kissing a warm spot just above your ear.

B — BODY PART

David’s favorite body part of yours would definitely be your hips. Or your eyes. Or your thighs. If you were to ask him, he’d give you a different answer every single time. There’s so much he loves about you, he can hardly pick just one. Though, he really does have a particular fondness for holding onto your hips, even in a non-sexual manner. He also loves any and all of your moles, scars, or birthmarks. Would press kisses against them because he finds them so beautiful in their uniqueness, and it makes him feel close to you. He thinks tattoos are hot as fuck on you too—especially the small ones in the most random places. 

Your favorite body part on him would be his hands. He found it strange at first, how your fingers always found his, how you’d spend hours in bed simply staring at his knuckle tattoos, tracing over every inked etch and every bruise, scar, and callous. It didn’t come much of a surprise to him when he found that you liked the sight of his hand pressing down on your lower stomach as he fucked into you. It got you going—and whatever gets you going, gets him going, too. 

The movie the two of you had put on was entirely forgotten. He was on the ground, knelt down in front of you, tongue tracing utter sin along your soaked cunt. And his hands—oh, his hands—one was gripping on your right thigh with iron-strength, forcing you apart to make space for his insatiable self pressing against you. The other hand was intertwined with your left palm, squeezing every once in a while, as if in reassurance. How sweet of him to hold your hand while he utterly destroyed you.

C — CUM

He’s a classic man—he likes to cum inside of you the most, but wouldn’t mind seeing it all over your tummy or over the inside of your thighs. If he was to make a mess, he would immediately clean it up with a damp towel after, asking if you were okay. 

“Gonna cum inside you—that okay, honey?” he grunted right by your ear, one hand splayed over your stomach, pressing with just the right amount of pressure, and the other gripping your hip tightly.

“Yes—yes, please, David,” you moaned, breath catching at his name as you moved to lay your hands over his so you could squeeze them earnestly. “Need you to fill me up.”

Just the sound of your voice was enough to push him over the edge. He pistoned his hips against yours a few more times until he doubled over with a gruff noise, hot cum filling your throbbing pussy until it leaked out around his still semi-hard cock.

D — DIRTY SECRET

There’s a set of handcuffs in the bedside drawer just for emergencies. But David’s always wanted to ask if you’d be willing to try it out in bed. He’s not even entirely sure if he would enjoy that, since he prefers to keep his work separate from home, but the thought of you trusting him enough to keep you bound to the bed wasn’t exactly unappealing.

David could only imagine how beautiful you’d look with your wrists up above your head, cuffed to the headboard as you looked up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. How the metal would look like against your skin as you tugged and begged for him to let you touch him—

“David?” you asked with a mildly curious tone, jolting him out of his thoughts. His head turned to you, in your soft pajamas, having just brushed your teeth and washed your face. You were about to slip into bed. “You okay? What are you thinkin’ about?”

“Nothing, hon. Let’s go to sleep.”

E — EXPERIENCE

He knows what he’s doing, but he hasn’t been with a lot of people before you. Two or three one-night stands, and maybe one barely-there relationship that didn’t last very long. Before you came along, he hardly had enough time to sleep, much less concern himself with having flings. Once he met you, he was much more determined to reorganize himself so he could make time for you. 

The diner was buzzing with activity that night. You were sipping on a strawberry milkshake, telling him about how you’d love to see a jaguar in person one day. He was smiling, thinking about how beautiful you were, even beneath the harsh lighting of the diner. And then—then it was all spoiled, because he caught sight of his ex in another booth. It hadn’t ended well—she left in a fit of anger and tears, frustrated that David hardly ever made time for her anymore. 

Almost immediately, you noticed his change of demeanor, and reached over the table to take his hand. His tense muscles relaxed just a bit. Something you always managed to do with very little effort—it was an uncanny talent of yours. 

“You wanna get out of here?” you offered. If you noticed his ex, you didn’t say anything. For that, he was grateful. “We can watch a movie at home.”

“That sounds great, actually.”

F — FAVORITE POSITION

Loki’s got a particular fondness for reverse cowgirl. Don’t get him wrong, he loves missionary and doggy too, but there’s just something about reverse cowgirl that itches him in just the right way. He likes reaching over to press down on your stomach from behind while he pounds into you, and he also likes how it’s easy access to your clit. Plus, you really enjoy hearing the gruff noises he makes right by your ear, so you’re not at all complaining. 

“David!” you cried out, voice strained with ecstasy. 

“I hear you, baby. Moan for me,” he muttered from behind you, sweaty chest pressed flush against your back. David glanced down and gave a guttural noise upon seeing a creamy ring of your combined arousals at the base of his cock. Another erotic sigh fell from you when he reached down to rub circles over your clit, making you keen with shocked arousal.

G — GOOFY

Very rarely would sex with David be light-hearted or humorous. The two of you are usually far too caught up in a pleasure-ridden haze. But if you happened to start laughing or smiling, he’d give you a loving half-grin before making it his mission to get you back into a moaning mess.

“That tickles,” you half-laughed when he skimmed his fingers up your sides, smiling up at him. He only barely made a humming noise before he thrust back into you—and the grin melted right off your face.

H — HAIR

He takes good care of his hygiene. Granted, he’s usually preoccupied with work to spend too much time grooming himself, but he keeps things clean down there. He also knows you’re a big fan of his slicked-back hair, so he does take the time to make himself look presentable in the morning. You’d also told him once while he was shaving that you liked how he looked with a beard—he’d really have to consider growing it out for you.

“I like how it looks,” you told him one morning before he had the chance to shave. “Your stubble. I think you’d look so hot with a beard.”

“You think so?”

“You should try it. That caveman look. It’ll suit you.”

I — INTIMACY

David can be incredibly romantic when he wants to be. Flowers and your favorite takeout are things he’d grab for you on the way back from work. He’s a detective—he studies you, observes all your likes and interests, and he’s a very fast learner to top it off. Kisses during sex are also not uncommon, and he would definitely press his lips along your neck or on your cheek, whether he’s on top or behind you. And, as mentioned before, he does hold your hand a lot. When he’s feeling more affectionate than usual, he’d murmur how good you are for him in your ear. 

“You feel so good, honey. Doin’ so good for me,” he groaned, firm arms curled around your waist as he bucked his hips into you. At his praise, you arched your back so you’d press further into him, a breathless keen falling from your lips. 

“Yeah?” David asked in smug approval. “You like that? You like being good for me, hm?”

J — JACK OFF

He rarely ever masturbates, because he’s got you around. And because he’s working so much. He feels as if it’s a waste of time if it’s not with you. But on the rare occasion you were out of town for longer than usual, he’d give into the temptation in the shower just once, imagining his wet fist was your warm cunt.

He missed you more than anything. All he could think about was you and your smile, your laugh, your beautiful hips and legs and thighs—

Fuck, even the cold shower he was standing under wasn’t helping his hard-on go away. With a muffled noise of frustration, David switched the water over to scalding hot, and curled a sopping hand over his throbbing cock. He leaned his forehead against the condensated tiles and closed his eyes, thinking about you and your delicious fucking moans. 

K — KINK

Mentioned before, but handcuffs! He likes that you trust him enough to be at his mercy, and he also thinks you look incredibly hot tied up. Another would be when you tell him what you want him to do to you—that gets him going so good. David also loves when you tug at his hair right at the root—makes his eyes roll right to the back of his head. He also really doesn’t mind when you scratch your nails down his back. Seeing the red marks afterwards feels like an award more than anything. 

It surprised him just how good it felt when your nails lightly scratched at his scalp. He peered up at you from his position (between your gorgeous thighs), tongue dragging torturously over your sensitive clit. It surprised him even more when you took fistfuls of his hair and tugged with just the right amount of pressure. He made a noise of approval right against your cunt, the vibrations making your back arch so that your cunt pressed up closer to his face. 

L — LOCATION

In bed is his go-to, since the two of you would usually have sex super late at night or really early in the morning. The couch in your living room is also home to lots of impromptu sex, mostly during the weekends. The kitchen counter and the dining table aren’t exempt, either.

The stir-fry you were cooking up crackled and popped in the pan, just about ready. From behind, David’s arms wove around your waist, his nose running along the curvature of your neck. It was only when you felt his stiff hardness against your back did you halt your ministrations.

“Here?” you asked with a sweet smile, turning your head to the side so you could see his sheepish expression. 

“Here’s good,” he replied, before turning the stove off for you and crowding you up against the kitchen counter.

M — MOTIVATION

Your voice gets him worked up the most. Especially when you make it go all low and you whisper right into his ear—he gets hard just from the thought of it. You could be talking about the most asinine topics, and he’s looking at you like you’re already begging him to fuck you. Whenever you wear his clothes, too—preferably with nothing underneath—it just makes you all the more irresistible to him. 

It was rare for the both of you to wake up lazy, with no plans for the rest of the day. But today—today was a miraculous weekend where both of your off-days lined up. And so that only meant you got to lounge around wearing David’s shirt, whispering pure filth into his ear so he’d push you up against the closest surface and fuck you with no abandon. It was simply heaven.

N — NO

Anything that could potentially really hurt you. He’s alright with a little bit of spanking here and there, but slapping you across the face is a hard no from him. He already sees quite a bit of abuse and violence at work, the last thing he’d want to do is replicate that with you. David can call you dirty names if you’d like, too, but he’s not very keen on being on the receiving end of it. Reminds him of his military school days. And, if it wasn’t obvious, none of the typical “gross” kinks, like piss and shit. He’s not into that at all. 

“Before we do this,” David started, trying his best to quell his racing heart, despite the fact that he’s slept with you three times prior to this. It was all still so new to him. “I just wanted to make sure—you’ll let me know if you’re uncomfortable, right? Or if I hurt you in any way, okay? I need to know if you’re not… enjoying it.”

“Okay, David,” you said with a serious nod, wrapping your legs about his waist. “I promise I’ll let you know.”

O — ORAL

Loves giving and receiving equally. On days where he’s come from work utterly exhausted and too tired to fuck you, he’d have you hanging right by the edge of the bed, where he’s kneeling on the ground, licking lazy patterns up and down your aching core. Eating you out also makes for brilliant foreplay—David likes to tease it out, and he especially likes the way you tug at his hair and groan out his name. As for receiving, he loves to pull your hair just as much, low moans of appreciation falling from his lips.

It was heaven between your legs, he thought, brows knitting together as he hiked your thighs up higher on his shoulders so he could properly bury his face into you sopping pussy. The noises you were making were going straight to his cock, which ached within the confines of his trousers. Even when you’d come twice from his tongue, David just kept going, humming in amusement when you began to whine with overstimulation.

P — PACE

It really depends on the day. Sometimes he wants to burn off some steam and frustration—goes all rough and quick until both of you are seeing stars. Other days he takes it slow, drawing it out to savor it as long as he can, drenching the sheets with both sweat and cum. 

“David—David, honey,” you cried out into the mattress, fists curling against the sheets. His cock was hitting all the right places inside of you, so fucking deep. “Please, please, go faster.”

He let out a guttural noise when you tightened around him. “No, no, honey… I’m taking my time with you today. Wanna make you feel every inch of me.”

Q — QUICKIE

Much to his chagrin, the weekdays usually leave him no other choice than a quickie. He’d certainly prefer it if he had the option to take his time with you, but David makes the most out of it regardless. You certainly don’t seem to mind—though, you’ve convinced him to come in late to work a handful of times.

“I’m gonna be late for work,” David grunted right into your mouth as he pounded into you. The squelching sound of his cock hammering into your throbbing cunt was enough to leave his cheeks warm and flushed. “It’ll be all your fault, honey.”

You clutched onto his shoulders, your forehead drooping down onto his cheek, far too delirious to come up with a coherent response.

R — RISK

He’d be more than willing to try out new things with you. He’s especially a big fan of when you come to him proposing a new position to try out. However, David isn’t likely to try out anything new on his own, so it’s all up to you. He’s just happy to do whatever you want to do.

“Hey, David?”

Your boyfriend glanced up from the paper he was reading, brows quirked.

“Well, uhm,” you wrung your hands together, with a sheepish expression, “I was wondering if we could… try something out in bed tonight.”

David blinked once, twice, and a third time. He put the paper down. “Of course, hon,” he said, a soft smile playing at the corner of his lips, “We can do whatever you want.”

S — STAMINA

Usually only one or two rounds since he’s already so worn out from his job but you can easily work him up into a third round if you really wanted to. The rounds can last pretty long, though—he’s good at pacing himself and also makes sure that you’re feeling good, too.

“Again?” he panted with a tired grin when you rolled him over so you could clamber onto his lap, grinding your slickened cunt against his spent cock. 

“Mhm,” you replied, nodding. Your hair was a complete mess—David took pride in being the reason you looked so sexily disheveled. “You don’t even have to do anything. Just—lay there and let me take care of you.”

“Can’t argue with that.” David’s muttered words tapered off into a low groan when you sank down onto him.

T — TOY

He wouldn’t own any toys of his own but if you owned a vibrator he’d definitely tease you with it during foreplay. Not at all the kind to be insecure about you using toys—in fact, he’s glad you have a way to feel good on your own whenever he’s not around to take care of you. Independence is incredibly sexy to him, after all.

The gentle buzz of the vibrator against your clit made you buck your hips up, to which David only let out an amused hum of laughter. One of his hands pressed down on the expanse of your stomach to keep you pinned down onto the bed.

“Stop squirming around, honey,” he muttered, teeth nipping at the inside of your thigh. “Relax—let me make you feel good.”

U — UNFAIR

David can be a huge tease if he wanted to be—he knows the exact buttons to press to work you up until you’re right there, but he’d pull away just before you could cum. Would have a wide, smug grin on his face, but he’s quick to cave once you start moaning out his name.

“Why’d you stop?” you huffed, breathless, propping yourself halfway-up with your elbows so you could look down at him. The lower half of his face was covered with your arousal. 

“Hm?” The faux noise of confusion aggravated you to no return. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shot you a cocky smile, before kissing up your stomach.

V — VOLUME

He’s not very loud, mostly quiet grunts and the occasional murmur against your skin. He’d much rather hear you—he loves it when you cry out for him, and tell him how good he feels against you.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he plowed into you—you could feel the vibrations of his breathless groans and choked grunts. With a particularly hard thrust, your pussy walls shuddered and clenched around him, the lewd cry you let out enough to etch a permanent blush over David’s cheeks.

W — WILD CARD

Roleplay wouldn’t even be something he thinks of doing but if you brought it up, he’d find it so incredibly hot if he pretended he was arresting you before bending you over a table and fucking you senseless.

“You gonna punish me, detective?” you asked with a coy smile, hand trailing down his chest, toying with the buckles of his belt.

David blinked at you—trying his best not to break character. With firm hands, he yanked your fingers away from his belt and twisted your arm around over your back, crowding you against the table. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and may be used against you in a court of law.” 

It took all it had in him not to laugh when you let out an aroused moan. 

X — X-RAY

Size really doesn’t matter because he knows how to pleasure you regardless, but he’s definitely quite girthy. The first few times he had sex with you, he’d take it slow because he really didn’t want to hurt you and he was stretching you out so good.

“You’re so big,” you whispered as he carefully eased you onto his cock, hands gripping your hips tight. “Was worried you wouldn’t fit when we first had sex.”

David let out something akin to a hiss and a groan, his forehead leaning against yours. 

Y — YEARNING

David’s sex drive isn’t all that high. It was mentioned before that you could work him up most of the time if you wanted to but unprompted, David would be just fine with having sex around once a week, especially since the two of you are so busy with work and quite tired when off it.

“We haven’t had sex in a while,” he whispered as he clambered into bed.

You muffled a yawn behind a fist. “Do you want to now?”

David rubbed at the corner of his eye, also fighting back a yawn. “I’m exhausted.”

“Me too.” The two of you laid down beneath the comforter, curling into your favorite positions like magnets snapping together. “In the morning, then?”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, planting a chaste kiss on your shoulder and watching your eyelids slide shut.

Z — ZZZ

Sleep is hard to come by for David, so he’s usually up for a while after sex. Just holding you, listening to you breathe, his nose pressed against your shoulder. He likes watching you sleep—not in a weird, creepy way, obviously, but he just likes how peaceful and restful you look. He finds that he sleeps much better with you around. Still doesn’t get enough hours, but it’s much more restful compared to his nights without you.

You collapsed into the mattress face-first with a satisfied noise, which was muffled into your pillow. Sweat glistened on both of your bodies, but neither of you had the energy to go wash up before bed. David’s eyes darted down to your legs, suppressing a grin when he saw his spend smeared between your thighs. 

“You’re too good, David,” you muttered, having turned your face away from the pillow, shooting him a lazy, blissed-out smile. 

Funny, he thought you were too good for him. His arms curled around you. “G’night, hon.”

“Night, David.”

[lilacxquartz]

under his authority;

officer kenjaku x f!reader

plot: finally ridding yourself of your problematic ex, he comes back in the worst possible form — themes: yandere kenjaku, (eventually) willing reader, stalking, dubcon, manipulation, he/him pronouns for kenjaku, mundane au — w.c: 3.5k

a/n: considered making this a shorter one shot, but an idea wouldn’t leave my head — warnings: extremely dubious consent, but reader is willing by the end — masterlist • ao3

Every night before you headed off to sleep, you would take the extra effort to barricade yourself in your apartment, with all sorts of intricate preparations in place… just to keep him away. You’d lock the windows, put up a bar against the front door, tuck a chair underneath the door handle of your bedroom, and sleep with a knife within reach—just in case.

Deep down, however, you knew that it was all pointless in the long run. You could never truly get rid of him, not even if you traveled to the very ends of the earth (or left it entirely). Your ex was simply not the type to let go and even though nothing had yet happened in your year alone without him, you knew that from the moment that you’d let your guard down, that he’d strike.

See, you knew him perfectly well and the sly way that he approached every little intricacy in life. He dated you for a couple of years, bending and twisting your life into all sorts of directions like a puppet on a string, swaying and meddling with the cross, having you thinking that you were the one in the wrong the entire time when it was his manipulation having you feel that way all along.

At some point, you woke up to it all however, and simply just left—choosing to start somewhere else entirely, ready to put up a fight if need be—but to your surprise, he never followed you. This is why perhaps you knew that you were in more danger than you could comprehend because if you knew one thing about him, it was that he had a penchant for holding onto grudges (and never letting anything, or anyone, go).

Such a suspicion was sorely implied however, when out from the corner of your eye on every other occasion, you would spot a glimpse of him. For a while, you thought that they had finally gotten to you; that they had driven you to complete and utter insanity, if you must have been seeing them in places that didn’t make sense. You sought help for that one however you could; through countless reports made through a system that didn’t take you seriously for whatever reason and then, later, through the means of therapy, which did help for a while. Just as you thought that he was out of your life, however, he started showing up again and in full force, too.

Your reports, just like before, meant nothing at all. All of those reports of stalking and someone lingering around your home, of your windows being scratched on and at your doors rattling during the odd hours of the night, only to be dismissed with the ask of ‘have they hurt you yet?’ or the claim that the evidence was still inefficient, so please only make such a report again if you have something to prove.

Such a ridiculous system, but that’s why you went to such great lengths to take things into your own hands. You had no choice, so what else were you otherwise supposed to do?

You were certain that all of those strange happenings were him, after all.

You weren’t going crazy.

It wasn’t like moving on was helping, anyway. His presence was constant and overwhelming, following you around like your own shadow. You were perhaps being driven crazy indeed, but it wasn’t your own doing as everyone else had otherwise claimed. You knew that deep down, these weren’t desperate illusions cast from a worn-down mind, but rather that they were strikingly real and he was surely toying with you, unable to let you go after a hasty, unspoken breakup, hell-bent on punishing you for daring to have a spine.

And just like every other time, everything was all locked up and ready to go; you were as safe as you could get. You did your usual clean sweep of everything and found nothing that could hint at danger, and yet, just as you had settled into bed… you heard something from the inside.

Tearing upright from your bed, you grabbed your phone in a hurry, dialing the police and urging that this time, this wasn’t a drill, that there was someone actively in your home so to please, please, send someone over and just because the claim was so desperate and dire, they did indeed send someone, reassuring you that it would be soon and to please, stop fretting so much. Such a soothing gesture threw you off guard a little, the pattern of the sentence piquing your interest as something once familiar, but your sleepy mind didn’t make the full connection just yet.

You opened up the door as soon as they knocked too, not thinking all that hard about just how on earth they knew which door in the block called for such a thing to begin with. You were exhausted, after all, worn down from a full year of constantly doubting your own mind, of course, your judgment was hazy. All it took was a bit of correctly applied confidence and a smooth, reassuring voice to render you compliant, to slip downstairs along with them under the claim that you would be going to the station to take a statement before you realised the chilling truth that slipped right past your nose.

That voice.

Those mannerisms.

It was him—you were with him.

You tugged at the car door, desperate to suddenly break free and yet he had you securely confined right in the back of his vehicle, driving you off into some unknown location without a single second to spare.

“You… how did you—” you spat out, your voice faltering in disbelief.

“You know, you should really practice better judgment when you’re tired, hm?” He spoke, his voice sickeningly condescending yet calm and sweet. “And now you’re in trouble. Oh dear.”

In protesting refusal, you kicked at the seat with your heel in an attempt to get them to slow the vehicle at least and plot your escape and yet, he seemed to handle such violent complaint with calculated ease, as if knowing your attempts were futile, as if knowing that he had already won.

“Let me go, you asshole,” you spat, continuing to knock on the seat.

Yet, they continued to remain infuriatingly composed, adjusting the mirror in the dark, allowing you to catch a glimpse of their coal-black eyes in the passing streetlights that phased through the road. He clicked his tongue in amusement before swerving the car off to an emptier road, forcing your body to hurl to the side in a grounding warning. “Careful,” he said, his voice laced with a cold threat, “you’re in no position to make such demands, now are you?” he asked, the reminder of your compromised circumstances hanging in the air. “Believe it or not, my role is genuine in this exchange and I could approve a warrant for your arrest if you’re not careful, so you would be wise to calm down and listen to me. How does that sound?”

“Arrest?” you scoffed. “For what?”

“Well, it could be anything, really,” he mused, calmly driving once more, “but let’s try those narcotics that I planted in your home—quite bad ones too, they would get you into a whole wealth of trouble—especially given those paranoid reports you’ve been making. Am I really that bad that you consider me a daily nuisance? I haven’t done anything that wrong, surely.”

You blinked. “You have been stalking me.”

However, all that he could do was huff out a humourless laugh as he composed a response, “Interesting claims, but I think you’ll find that I have evidence of me being busy at work for the good remainder of the year, but…” he paused, considering a pint, “how sweet of you to think of me so often. Have I been on your mind that often? Maybe you’re seeing things you want to see.”

“I wouldn’t want to see you at any time at all, you damned stalker—” you repeated, only for him to interrupt you.

“—stalker?” he asked in a completely deadpan tone, though there was a thin jab of mockery laced within it. He parked the vehicle off to the side of a lesser traveled road where the lights couldn’t quite reach before sitting with you in a stagnant silence for a while. When he finally broke the quiet, he spoke up again in a hushed tone, as if careful to not be heard (even though it was just the two of you in the car), “your claims aren’t entirely baseless, I have been… keeping tabs, but I have been careful,” he admitted, “I have been eliminating all traces of evidence from the moment that anything surfaced, ridding myself of anything compromising. You can try and rattle me out to the authorities if you wish, I won’t stop you, but you won’t get very far.”

“Was the break-up that significant that you can’t leave me alone?” you redirected.

Another silence brewed between the two of you, but then he quickly composed himself. “How silly of you to make such outrageous claims as if we were an item to begin with, but, I suppose that you could say that our time together was significant enough for me to be… conflicted about our parting, for a lack of better words.”

“That’s a long and pointless answer to mean ‘yes’, but alright, you do you, Kenjaku,” you mumbled, crossing your arms as you sank back into the seat.

“And what would admitting such a thing do?” he asked, drumming his fingers along the hard leather of the wheel. “We were together for a moment and just as things were getting interesting, you walked out on me,” he added, not quite losing his track of words but still pausing for a moment to school their demeanour back into something better controlled. “...Let’s say that we did leave on a bad note, surely you can understand my confusion and… interest in picking up where things had left off?”

“I understand the need for wanting answers,” you admitted, “but it doesn’t justify stalking, surely.”

“It justifies my need for closure,” Kenjaku corrected, “and now that I have you back in my hands, I think you’re overdue for some long-awaited discipline, don’t you think? Luckily for you, I’m surprisingly fair with how I deliver it, so I won’t hurt you, but I do have something in mind for the way you humiliated me.”

“Humiliated?” you scoffed yet again, although given his lack of immediate reply, you had an uneasy wave of dread pass you by with the hanging implication of what was yet to come. Something felt off, but they weren’t being clear with their delivery.

Before you knew it, he suddenly got out of the car and slammed the door shut, leaving you alone in the back of the police car for a beat, and then, without warning, tore open the back door, yanking you right outside. You landed on your bottom initially, but then he leaned you forward, pressing your chest against the dirt and cuffing your wrists right behind your back.

Pulling you up after, he slammed you into his car, caging you in with his looming overhead frame, making you feel suddenly quite small and trapped. He leaned in with his breath hot against your neck, allowing his pressing arousal to push into the small of your back while holding you in place.

“Humiliation is a two-way street, you know,” he whispered as he pulled down your jeans to your knees with your underwear following suit, “and I don’t think I can forgive such abandonment, at least not so soon.”

You remained frozen in place, realising exactly what he was planning to do, letting him talk as words refused to leave your own lips, “I always did like the lack of fight you put up during our time together,” he purred, “I bet it’s because you secretly like submitting to me like this, huh?”

His words were intentionally full of spite and mockery, but you were still confused and barely recovered from the extreme relationship they had you trapped in prior; it was an overwhelming time that left you with a piled-up emotional burden and nothing else beyond that point… but their touch admittedly, always succeeded in making you feel good in a way that nothing else or nobody else could compare. So skilled was the feel of his fingers over your skin—the only time he would ever listen to you.

“And what happened to your snark?” Kenjaku hummed, unzipping his slacks, dropping the pair to gather at his thighs, “I thought you had a lot to say just now? Did that all disappear too? Do you want me to make you feel good again? I bet none of those late-night hookups you’ve been having have been satisfying you the same way I ever could.”

It was humiliating alright, he knew exactly what you wanted and how you wanted. You loved it when he bit at your neck and when he pulled your hair just enough to make you feel good, but without long-lasting pain. You loved the way his hands would smack and smooth over your tender skin, bruising galaxies from his feverish touch. How his teeth would graze along the sensitive spots, making your life feel like putty in his hands; so malleable and yet so rigid, and yet, you knew fully well that he was bad for you.

He didn’t give you much time beyond that point to seek out confirmation, readily lining up the tip of their hardened cock to press into your soaked entrance, finding it almost peculiar at just how desperately soaked you already seemed to be. With a gentle push inside, he buried his shaft within your slick walls, easing into you slowly, taking his good, sweet time to get used to the feel of you again. Almost achingly slow, he pushed himself into your hilt and then back out, feeling almost insultingly delicate.

Kenjaku’s lips then lined up with your neck, peppering lazy kisses against your throat, but not surrendering to the heat of the moment like you almost desperately, guiltily craved. Such burning need that was evidenced by the full year of not being able to let you go and yet, now that he had you—he held himself off.

Albeit involuntarily, you drawled off a low whirring whine, arching your back into his form, letting him deepen his shaft into your core, yet never once accelerating as you hoped. Kenjaku remained infuriatingly composed and controlled, never once losing his cool, gently rolling his hips out and then back in, letting the need build up in you, yet never satisfying it.

“Such a needy thing,” he murmured, “what’s the magic word?”

“P-pl—” you were about to say, stopping yourself right as you were about to give in.

Kenjaku sucked at his teeth. “We’ll get there. You could never make me soft.”

He continued to roll his hips back and forth against you, nice and slow, pressing your body straight up against the cold, uncomfortably hard surface of the car with his uniform uncomfortably digging into your back. The coarse material roughly chafed through the thin fabric of the top you wore, rubbing painfully against you as all the wrong sensations were tackled instead.

It was painful, almost, and yet you felt your composure letting slip earlier than you would have liked, wanting nothing more than to give into the moment and for once, forget about him and what he put you through prior and just… feel good.

“P-please,” you gasped and then bit your lips, curling them into your mouth to stifle the remainder of the confession—humiliating, indeed.

He stilled for a second and you swore that you could feel his eyes bore into you with an almost feral resolve. For a while, he didn’t say a single thing and then, without warning, you cried out a choked-out whimper without registering exactly what had happened.

Suddenly, a deep, searing pain flooded your senses, making your eyes well with tears and spill in a matter of seconds. The realisation hit just a moment later, recognising the sensation as pain as he thrust repeatedly into your teased cunt at full force; his cock hitting right where it hurt and then without stopping, doing it again and again. Your reactions were poorly timed as you moaned out of sync with his feverish movements, pistoning himself into you with the driving force of someone crazed with reckless abandon. With such sawing aggression that emphasised just how needy he truly was, no matter the claims that otherwise left his lips, pinning the blame on you.

His hands then snaked around your chest but didn’t settle, reaching to wrap around your neck instead. His palms squeezed against your sensitive skin, choking out whatever pretty little noises you had left behind.

Your body recoiled slightly in pained protest as he continued to impale you; his hot breath rolling steamy pants of air that prickled against your clammy skin, pushing you closer towards the edge. His breathing became sloppier too, as he fucked himself as rough as he could into your sopping heat, quite literally spearing his length into you, until he couldn’t anymore. With one stuttering, rough, and final thrust, he melted into you entirely, crashing his body against yours as he filled you up with his own pent-up need. For a moment after, his hips gently bucked, albeit seemingly involuntarily as he sought to ride out the aftermath of his near-violent orgasm, only parting when he could quickly recompose himself and regain control over both of the situation—as well as you.

And after a while of such recovery—after helping you find your balance and dress you back up with almost attentive care—a darker thought slipped into his mind. Helping you sit back inside of the car, into the front this time, he let you quietly recover as he drove off somewhere else this time. Not to your home, nor to his, but… somewhere else entirely, because, if he was being real about you, he already knew that you wouldn’t give up on trying to get him into trouble—wouldn’t you? You silly thing. Oh no, he had to do something about that, and luckily for you, he had no such intention to kill you off, because you were the only thing in his life that he wanted to keep around for good and he had a good idea that you wanted this too, even if you were being so stubborn lately.

“Wait,” you piped up at long last, “where are we going?”

Kenjaku snorted out a half-laugh, finding your late realisation to be amusing before clearing his throat and answering you, “I’m not letting you go this time, so we’re taking a little detour—I’m going to keep you holed up with me forever,” he revealed, “maybe in chains at first as I figure out something more… permanent, but it’s all for a good cause, you know?”

You huffed, only to be interrupted, “A good cau—”

“—yes,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “a good cause. I want to keep you forever, but I can’t have you running off on me. At least not again.”

You found yourself reacting in a way that surprised you, trying to sink into the seat again and kicking at whatever you could, but not as a means of escape, but rather out of frustration at your own mind. You could only respond in an uncertain murmur, still exhausted from the rough encounter, “You’re impossible, just… let me go,” you requested instead, although not sounding convincing to either him or yourself, knowing that it would probably be easier to just surrender instead.

“Oh you”, he endearingly cooed, smoothing his hand over your thigh, “I can’t do that. Not to you. But just know this, if you try to run away from me again, I’ll figure something out, maybe plant something compromising on you,” he replied, pausing for a moment to plot something out on the spot, “maybe have you arrested and locked up, because that way I can be sure to keep you in one place forever.”

You tilted your head off to the side, catching a glimpse of his thinly concealed mania burning in the depths of his eyes. “You wouldn’t go through that much, would you? You’re not that insane…”

Kenjaku however just shrugged, finding the calm conversation to be amusing, knowing that by even humouring him to this extent, you had already given up. “Just keep it in mind, will you? If it ever did come down to that, then guess who’s going to be the one to get you out to begin with?”

He let the implication hang in the air for a moment longer, before pushing you back further into the seat and finally letting go. “Anyway, rest up, will you? You have a lot of apologising left to do when we’re there and I fully accept you to be awake and alert for everything I have in store for you.”

You gulped, but you did as you were told, finally broken down enough to listen to him at long, long last.

[iamthedukeofurl]

One interesting thing that can happen in long running media is that the general cultural background can shift under the work, recontextualizing it as it is being written. I'm specifically thinking of the Order of the Stick, a Dungeons and Dragons themed webcomic that started in 2003 with the titular party of adventurers going through a dungeon.

From left to right, we have Belkar Bitterleaf the halfling ranger, Vaarsuvius the Elf Wizard, Elan the Human Bard, Haley Starshine the Human Rogue, Durkon Thundershield the Dwarf Cleric, and Roy Greenhilt the Human Fighter. The comic takes place in a fantasy setting that knowingly runs off the rules of Dungeons and Dragons third edition. Characters talk about rolls and bonuses and intentionally take levels in various classes. At the start, the comic was a pretty basic gag comic about the D&D rules, basic fantasy/adventure tropes, ect.

In the 20 years the comic has been running, it has updated about 1300 times, not counting bonus strips exclusively made for the printed version, and several print (or PDF) only side and prequel stories. It has also dramatically grown from it's roots, the art has improved while keeping the same general aesthetic, and the gag-a-day comic has become a sweeping fantasy epic. The characters have grown beyond their initial bits (Belkar is a Murderhobo, Elan is stupid, Haley is greedy, ect), and it's genuinely up there as one of my favorite stories. But anyway, let's talk about Vaarsuvius. If you look at the above art, You'll notice that the characters tend to have three types of body shapes: Rectangles for Roy, Belkar, and Elan, feminine curves for Haley, and Robes for Vaarsuvius. This presentation is a pretty consistent signifier of gender and/or somebody wearing robes. Early on, part of Vaarsuvius's running gag became their ambiguous gender. At the time, it was a fairly common joke in fantasy to talk about how Elven men had androgynous or "Girly" appearances, so V was part of that. Instead of a singular pronoun, characters would generally just abbreviate Vaarsuvius's name as "V", and whenever the narrative would have naturally provided some indication of gender one way or another, V would resolve the situation without providing any such indication. For example, an early gag has the characters seeking out a set of modern style bathrooms in the dungeon. When they find them, V says that their "More Efficient elven biology" means they don't have to go yet, so they wait outside while the boys go into the Men's room and Haley waits in the inevitable long line at the women's. When Vaarsuvius reveals that they are married, they use the term "Spouse" to refer to their partner, when we see their children, the children are clearly adopted (V and their partner both have pale skin, their children have darker skin) and refer to Vaarsuvius as "Parent". Vaarsuvius themselves seems to have trouble identifying other people by gender. Characters outside the central cast might refer to Vaarsuvius as "He" or "She", but doing so was always shedding light on that character's perspective, rather than saying anything about Vaarsuvius. The assumption behind the gag is that Vaarsuvius must be either male or female, and the joke is that the narrative/Vaarsuvius themselves keeps finding ways to avoid "Revealing" their gender. Fan wikis and official books list Vaarsuvius's gender as "Ambigious" and on the forum there used to be a regular, multi-part thread dedicated to debatings Vaarsuvius's gender, even after the author declared that it would "never be revealed".

Anyway, going back to the start, it's 2023, and something shifted at some point, both in the comic and in the general cultural background. The jokes about V's gender kind of fell off, not just because the gag got played out, but because the basic assumption behind it simply doesn't work anymore. Everybody knows that Nonbinary people exist. There's no point in the comic where Vaarsuvius switches from being "Ambigiously Gendered" to Nonbinary, in fact, the entire comic reads just fine if you read Vaarsuvius as male or female and just not caring enough to clarify their gender to anybody and at some point other characters just stop thinking about it. But it's interesting to see how a character trait that was once included in even the most basic character descriptions (Varsuvius: Elven Wizard. Arrogant, Intelligent. Ambigiously gendered) just kind of got washed away by a rising tide of cultural nuance towards gender. Also go read OOTS, it's pretty great.

[thesovereignsring-if]

Major Update: To move forward is to take a step back.

Hello everyone, it's been a while. I hope you're all doing well. I'd ask that you read this to the end because some major changes will be in the upcoming update.

TLDR: You will need to start a new save file for new update (this weekend) otherwise there will be very noticable issues down the line.

I can't recall the last time I made a post or an update like this and frankly i'm scared to check . I've been struggling with writers block with the end of Chapter 1 and my small bouts of depression did not help one bit, so I had to take a step back and re-examine the narrative. If you ask me what the problem was, i'd say that perhaps I rushed too quickly into the main story, when I needed a little more foundation to stand on. After a few months of deliberation, a solution has been found. And I think everyone will like it. There will be no major rewrite of any sort, I think I would cry if that were the case.

Instead we going going to have a second prologue. This means that Chapter 1 will be inaccessible until the second prologue is complete. I'm very sorry that things have to be this way, but I do no see any other option for the story to continue forward in a satisfying way.

The second prologue will take place a few months after the first prologue during the Grand Festival of Eostre. This will be the first year you'll celebrate without your mother, at the very least you will have your friends and family with you at the time.

What to expect in the first half of Prologue 2:

Up to 13k words of new content.

Spend some time with your family.

Looooreeee & tea.

Meet Lior the Grand Cardinal of the Church of Eostre. The leading religion in Nibelheim.

Choose how to spend your free time at the festival in 2/4 possible routes. Route A: Alberich & Finny, Route B: Sieghardt & Thea.

(The last two routes will be added in the next update: Route C: Lynnette, Erik & Daria/Darius, and Route D: The Empress, King Lugh & Duchess Neaera)

Erik has a younger bastard half-sibling named Daria(f)/Darius(m). ( I will address them as Dara for short.) The final romantic interest, gender selectable. Even if you do not choose Route C, you will meet them later on in the second half of the update.

Fixes + Updates:

Character Creation has been updated and streamlined. (Gender/Pronouns and Sex are separate categories for both adult and child character creations. Attributes chosen during Child Character Creation will be stored as different variables in the event I choose to do anymore flashbacks later on in the story.)

Please note, that choosing after your sex (as an adult) I will assume your character will have the corresponding equipment down there.

Music Credits have been updated.

Minor adjustments to the colour of the UI, if people have any sort of colour theme they wish to see, I'll be more than happy to add them.

That is all for now. I hope the year has been kind to everyone so far. I haven't gone through my inbox yet, but I've seen glimpse of people's support it goes a long way. I sincerely do no think I'd come back if it weren't for the fact that I'd feel like I'd let everyone down. I will be making a patreon post after the first update goes live to talk about the new update and exclusives later.

Thank you for reading and enjoying TSR over the past year. It's means a lot to me and let's hope things will be better moving forward.

See you <3

Lili

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 2

Isn’t That Right, Little Rabbit?

Thank you again @discordantwritings! Now I can blame it on your request if I go way overboard with this, lol

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 2173

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: Crocodile and Mihawk make sure that you understand the details of your new arrangement, starting with where you'll be sleeping.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Alcohol, Swearing, Angst, Smut, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Canon Typical Violence, Manipulation, Humiliation, Blood and Violence, Pet names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Guilt, Possessive Behavior, Masturbation, Brief Imagined Sexual Acts including; Choking, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, F/M/M Threesome

A/N: Once again, these boys are VILLAINS. Dynamics are already shifting, but they are possessive, controlling, and not so subtly threatening to the reader, plus violent toward Buggy. Please do not read if these themes may be triggering for you!

“Let’s get an early start tomorrow. You’ve got a lot of work to do, numbers girl,” Crocodile teased, a hint of threat in every word. “Do you have your own quarters, or did you sleep in his tent?”

He gestured to the beaten body at your feet, and your mouth went dry.

“I…”

Mihawk shifted beside you, his eyes piercing, always judging.

“You were gonna run away with him,” Crocodile continued. “We can’t have that, not when you need to make that money back.” 

You stared at your knees, shaking your head slightly.

“Let’s go find some nice rooms then, and you can have one between Mihawk and I.”

“D-Don’t touch her.”

Buggy’s muffled demand made the men on the couch laugh, the deep sounds vibrating through you. You bit your lip to hold in a sob.

“Looks like you’ll be useful in keeping the clown in line as well,” Mihawk mused, his monotone voice doing nothing to calm your fear.

“Don’t fret, numbers girl,” Crocodile said, finally moving his arm on the back of the couch to touch you. He rubbed his huge hand along your shoulders, sending electricity coursing through your body.

“We’re just protecting our investment,” he chuckled, hand resting on the back of your neck now, index finger tapping softly. You were frozen, heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

I bet he can feel my pulse under his fingers. He can feel my fear.

“Mihawk, why don’t you call for Mr. 3? Make him find us some adequate quarters.”

“Our arrangement doesn’t involve me taking your orders, Crocodile. Why don’t you call for your own lackey?”

“Don’t be so stiff now, swordsman. I’m gonna accompany miss Y/N to Buggy’s quarters. Make sure she packs her things.”

“Don’t frighten our little rabbit too much. We need her at her best.”

Your hands were clenching on your lap, fingernails piercing the skin of your palms.

“Agreed. But her best is as far away from that trash clown as possible. Right, Y/N,” Crocodile asked, leaning down until you felt his hot breath on your face. “He didn’t listen to you. He didn’t appreciate you, and you almost died because of his stupidity. You owe him nothing but disgust.”

He gave Buggy a light kick, and you hoped your small whimper was covered by Buggy’s groan of pain.

Mihawk’s long fingers touched your hand, gently lifting and opening your fist. He traced along the shallow crescents of blood you’d drawn, what sounded like a satisfied hum leaving his throat.

“It’s true, Y/N,” Mihawk let out, voice raspy and dangerous. “You have an opportunity to live an interesting life. Don’t disappoint us by lowering yourself for that clown.”

You were shivering now, practically vibrating beneath their soft touches.

“Say it, Y/N,” Crocodile commanded.

“Wh-What…”

He kicked Buggy again, this time sending his body across the floor. Gasping, you fought not to cry at the broken sounds Buggy was making.

“Say it.”

“I won’t… I won’t lower myself for that clown.”

Shame curled in your stomach as they both praised you, thumbs rubbing possessively over your skin. Crocodile held your neck, while Mihawk brought your hand to his mouth.

He pressed your knuckles to his lips, the chaste movement feeling sinful under his stare. Crocodile squeezed your neck ever so gently, and your eyes fluttered closed. The weight of their attention stripped you raw, your body mixing excitement and fear. 

No. No, this is wrong. Don’t react like this. 

Failing to school your breathing, you tried to ignore the heat that was pooling between your legs, an aching pressure in your core was betraying your mind. You needed to squirm, needed to press your thighs together, but you managed to hold yourself still.

These men are villains. They’re pirates. 

But Buggy is too, you thought, remembering how badly you had wanted to escape an ordinary life.

You had met one dangerous man, and you ran away with him without a second thought. Desperate for adventure, for freedom. For pleasure.

We have to get out of here. 

“You are an intriguing woman, Y/N,” Mihawk’s voice practically purred beside you. “Let’s get some rest. I’m looking forward to watching you work.”

Mihawk sipped his wine as he watched you stand, Crocodile guiding you out into the hall. 

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

Thankfully, he wasn’t touching you anymore, but your body still felt electric. Even the press of air as you walked felt delicious on your sensitive skin.

Guilt hit you like a ton of bricks as you walked into Buggy’s quarters. 

Crocodile puffed on his cigar as he watched you pack, his eyes assessing every movement, every item you picked up. You dug through the mess, feeling like you were outside of yourself, watching your body as it moved for you.

Yes, Buggy had put you in danger. He’d made promises he never kept. He didn’t listen to you. You watched him lie to his people, again and again, bullshitting his way through every situation.

But he didn’t deserve to be treated like a human punching bag. 

Your quivering lip brought you back into your body, tears of shame building up along your lash line, not spilling over yet. 

“That’s enough,” Crocodile huffed, picking up your bag, and pulling out a colorful top. “What sort of trash did he buy for you with my berries? We’ll have to fix this. Come on.”

He nodded toward the door, dropping that shirt onto the bed instead of returning it. Crocodile carried the bag for you, pulling away as you reached for it. 

Buggy had bought that shirt for you. He’d bought a lot of circus style clothes for you, and it had been fun to dress up with him. 

But it hadn’t felt like you, and you had started to get annoyed at all the gifts he bought for you. All the gifts that were really for him, especially when you’d begged him over and over to stop spending frivolously. 

You sighed, those ungrateful thoughts stabbing you with guilt again when you remembered the state he was in. 

Galdino scowled at you as he and Mihawk waited in the hall. Mr. 3 had clearly gone to bed already, and didn’t look pleased to be handling your sleeping arrangements. 

He kept his feelings to himself though, leading the way. 

Buggy had created this little city, Buggy Town. Karai Bari island was small, with not much more than palm trees and mountains, but he’d had his people build this town that looked like circus tents. 

You had admired it, that he built this whole thing from nothing. It had started to feel like home. 

I need to get as far away from here as possible. 

Finally walking to the end of a long hall, Galdino pointed out the two doors on opposite sides for Mihawk and Crocodile. He gestured to the door at the end of the hall, sandwiched between them, announcing that it would be yours. 

“No windows, right, Mr 3,” Crocodile checked, crossing his arms.

“Correct. I hope it’s all to your liking.”

Galdino scurried away, sparing you a quick glance. His look of annoyance was gone. Was that pity?

“Let’s take a look.”

Crocodile had opened your door, motioning for you. 

You walked in, shrinking as you passed him. It was a really nice room. Meant for guests, so it wasn’t as insanely circus themed as most rooms. 

You moved toward the bed, but froze at the heat at your back. 

Crocodile moved behind you, setting your bag down. He inspected the room, even lifting items to look underneath them, checking the walls, and behind the couch.  He stepped into the attached bathroom, and you heard the sound of drawers opening and closing.

“Come now, Crocodile. Miss Y/N is smart enough not to try anything untoward,” Mihawk drawled from the doorway. “Especially not with the two of us within earshot. Isn’t that right, little rabbit?”

“Of course, sir,” you choked out, voice hoarse with stress.

Your blood went cold at the sight of Mihawk’s lips curling into a small, pleased smile. 

“Fine,” Crocodile grumbled, thankfully heading for the door. They left your room, but the scarred man leaned back in, dark eyes holding you still.

“Be ready early. We need you to get a handle on the finances as soon as possible. You need some new clothes.”

Your lips parted at his tiny smile, and you stood dumbly for a few minutes, staring at the door he’d closed. 

It felt like hours before your body started to breathe, your knees going weak as you stumbled to the bed.

Everything replayed, your mind spinning with pain, fear, and shameful need.

Sleep seemed impossible, like you’d never meet it again. 

Buggy’s face, Buggy’s cries. 

Crocodile’s hook around your throat. 

Mihawk’s fingers tracing along your bloody palm.

Their threats, their demands. Their hands on your skin.

Tears of frustration burned your eyes, and you chewed your lip to keep from sobbing. You didn’t want to think of what they’d do to you if they heard you crying.

You felt delirious. Whiplash sent manic laughter through you, and you had to bite down on your fist, until it turned to silent sobs.

Exhaustion tormented you. Each time you got close to sleep, more shifting emotions would tear at you. 

And through it all, you fought against that. 

There was no way you could examine that, not with the pile of guilt, shame, and danger riding you. 

But the further into exhaustion you fell, and the longer your chaotic thoughts kept you from sleep, the less able you were to resist it. 

That need.

With a few more tears of guilt streaming out, you let yourself have this moment. 

It doesn’t mean anything. I just need to relax. It’s okay. 

Those comforting words faded out as your mind brought you back to that velvety, green couch. 

Crocodile’s hand was so big, you couldn’t believe how much of your shoulders and neck it had covered. You wondered if he could wrap those thick fingers all the way around your throat.

Your breathing hitched as your body heated up, hips twisting against the sheets as your legs started to spread open. 

Mihawk’s hypnotizing eyes, his lips on your knuckles. The way he’d looked so pleased when you called him ‘sir.’

Your head felt fuzzy as your hands rubbed along your skin. You touched your neck, then ran your hands along your chest, massaging your breasts through the thin fabric of your top.

You let out a quiet gasp as your fingers worked their way down your stomach, nails teasing along the skin of your hips. 

Your mind tried to stop you, flooding you with guilt again, but you shoved it out. 

Fingers dipped down, drenched with your need as you remembered that couch again. Slick was coating your thighs as you felt the heat of them surrounding you, tapping their glasses against yours. Promising you that you’d never be bored with them. 

When they both had their hands on you, you had to fight not to moan, not to grind your thighs together. You’d felt your body betray you then, your aching pussy dripping from so little touch.

Now your fingers were sliding over your clit, breath ragged as you imagined how else they could have touched you on that couch. If Mihawk’s sharp tongue could make you scream. If Crocodile’s huge fingers could make you melt in his lap. 

You were aching for more, more, your body near panicked as you chased your high. You shoved two fingers inside yourself, curling up, having to twist your body to try to reach that spot. You whimpered thinking about the swordsman's long, skilled fingers, about how big Crocodile was, how big every part of him had to be. 

Finally, your mind gave you the image of both of them taking you at once, until you drenched and ruined that gorgeous couch. The thought of them thrusting into you, taking you, using you, it sent you twitching into bliss. 

Your body was shaking, your back arched as your aching fingers fought desperately to keep going. 

You had done so well, been so quiet.

But at the last stretch of release, a moan of pleasure was torn from your throat. 

Still twitching with aftershocks, you held your breath, straining your ears.

It wasn’t loud. And it’s so late. There’s no way they could hear that. 

But Mihawk’s veiled threat echoed through your mind. 

‘Not with the two of us within earshot. Isn’t that right, little rabbit?’

You clenched your thighs together, shaking your head as you tried to comfort yourself. The fear of them hearing you touch yourself overrode your guilt over what you’d just done. 

At least you were starting to pass out now. 

Maybe this will all be a dream. And I’ll wake up. And Buggy will be okay. 

You fell asleep to comforting lies. Dreamt of deep voices, and strong hands. 

And woke to someone banging on your door. 

“Time for work, sweetheart.”

Fuck.

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Oops, I'm obsessed again.

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword

Part 3

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

[blueparadis]

❝ HAUNTED ❞ + XAVIER THORPE !

+. CWs —» f!reader, switch!reader, outcast!reader, fluff, she/her pronouns, mutual pining, sexual tension, family drama, flirting, manipulation, mentions of abuse, blood, wounds & therapy, flashbacks in italics, supernatural themes ; explicit smut, s & d dynamics, bottom-dom!xavier, cowgirl position; word count-3.5k

+. PRECIS —» Xavier Thorpe has finally found the girl of his dreams after being haunted by her.

+. NOTES —» this is for my beloved sister @zoraedits ’s brainrot contribution.she won't stop making edits on him. && I'm tagging @orchid3a cuz i luv u

you can browse more of my works here. || also available in AO(III). reblogs and comments are very much appreciated.

feel free to send in thirsts and suggestions for this show, Wednesday. This is my first time writing for shows like this; my main fandom spectrum is animanga but I do hope this was a good read for ya’all as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3.

The table calendar was full of red inks all over, dirt sedimented on the sketchbook, and the pencils laid in the case in absolute solitude. Xavier looked at the calendar kept on his desk near his bed in all despondency and a heavy sigh escaped from his lips. It has been days since he stepped into his studio, have not touched his art accessories for almost a month. One thing was for sure, he was plagued by visions in his dreams but this time it was nothing demising. 

This time his sketchbooks were not filled by a monster, this time he was not afraid to draw rather he was drawn to it; part of him was stoked while sketching while a part of him was reluctant to draw the whole picture. He had spent countless sleepless nights before, not resorting to sleeping as he was threatened by nightmares. And now his sleep was peaceful as if entering into the realm of dreamland.

Xavier was sure that his mind was captured by a girl who came to visit him in his sleep, never showing her face, only showing herself in bits and pieces. He had spent his childhood receiving showers of praise for his talent for drawing but the origin was never happy. Of course, he enjoyed it and liked to show off his talent for art but secretly he wished his power would vanish into oblivion, for it was never pleasant.

People say that the art of someone reflects one’s persona, one’s raw feelings but Xavier always begged to differ since those memories, those incidents were never his. There always had been a wave of remorse that washed over him after he stepped out of his art studio since the praises he received never belonged to him. 

Many were astoundingly taken aback by his knack for drawing and suggested he pursue art, to be a renowned artist but he knew he would lose all the glory once he stopped having those dreams. Moreover, he did not always have such dreams so the possibility of waking up one day and being unable to paint and as a result, staring at a blank canvas scared him to death. Heck! He even considered going to Doctor Kinbott so that his sanity would not be hanging by thread.

For the last couple of weeks, he has been dreaming of odd landscapes. Xavier had never seen them in his life yet he saw how the dusky crimson hue smothered the snowy mountain ranges, how the clouds gathered before the arrival of a rainstorm, how the birds sang songs and all the owes and pangs of nature. One thing he could conclude from those dreams was that whoever it belonged to was a chaser of freedom, that is, was a soarer of the sky.

Xavier had not told anyone about his dreams, nor put them on paper to ease his mind. What would he tell? What would he draw? Last night was particularly odd concerning the regular pattern of his dreams. He dreamt of falling from a high cliff into the water and a broken wing. When he woke up, he was all soaked, even his bed, and his olfactory senses did not miss the subtle scent of stagnant water. He was breathing rashly as if he was the one who drowned as if he was the one to fall.

He closed his eyes and tried to recapitulate his dream, searching for a mark, searching for a recognizable feature, searching for something, anything, anything at all. His desperation knew no bounds when left his dorm and rushed into his studio in the middle of the night since somewhere at the corner of his hopeless heart he knew he found one, a ray of hope.

A lot of crumbled papers surrounded Xavier as he tried accumulating the pieces from his puzzled mind. Around two o’clock he left his studio on his bicycle, the paper where he drew tucked in his pocket. He was sure he had witnessed the scenery before unlike the others.  When he finally reached the top of the highland, he witnessed the view from his most recent dream. 

The only thing that engulfed his presence was the sound of the waterfall echoing through the woods. He noticed a pond nearby and an adjacent high plateau near it. It was higher from where he was standing. After looking around for a few minutes he figured that there was no way to go there unless one swam through the stream or flew toward it.

On his way back, he felt happy, he felt sane. At least he had proof of the existence of a creature that haunted him, even in his wake. Xavier showered before going to bed just to clear his head before a good night's sleep. He kept a white feather as a bookmark in his sketch pad while a smile smothered his face. He was right. He was haunted by a fairy-like creature.

“Two cappuccinos”, Xavier mumbled as he went back to the counter at Weathervane. It was another event where all the students of Nevermore set foot into the world of normies to carry on the ties between two polar opposite worlds. But no matter how much one tried, the other always tried to retaliate. Their relationship was always on a tightrope, it could snap at any moment. And it certainly did.

“And you did not bother to tell me about this. . .”, Principal Weems trailed off as she left her seat, walked past her desk, and inclined against it, “until everyone in town became aware of it.”

“I thought I was going to be called insane or bullied. Last time I told something about my dreams, I found myself behind the bars.”, he responded, keeping his eye on the ground. Principal Weems exhaled grudgingly. She had no grounds to punish this boy since he was not entirely wrong. Hence, Xavier was dismissed with mere detention. 

Xavier was forbidden from the school campus for a week. Everyone felt sorry for him, in his situation but secretly he could not be happier because he had all the time to draw, sketch, paint and think — and it was all about her, y/n. 

That day at the café, Xavier was the sole witness of a crime. It happened so quickly, so fast that all she could do was succumb to her fate. A man was standing near the corner of the kitchen with his back facing Xavier. Xavier was not supposed to be here but he had to fetch some ingredients for making pastries and cupcakes. 

As the man turned around, Xavier saw a bloodied butcher's knife in his hand. Near his feet lay a girl with a bloodied back the blood quickly spread all over her blouse. She stood motionless, like a statue. The eye contact was merely for two seconds and he immediately smashed the sugar jar on his head, distracting him, to tackle her out of the way.

The other townies turned up for help. Not all people in the world came to be cruel and heartless. All Xavier did was contact Principal Weems so that she could swiftly take care of this matter, which she had to otherwise the reputation of the Nevermore Academy would be in danger. The girl was taken to a nearby hospital. 

Y/n L/n was her name. After the untimely death of her parents, she was raised by her uncle, by a normal family. Naturally, when she began to bloom, she was forced to be normal. One would think she tried to run, tried to hide or fight but Alas! none was the case for this matter. She felt indebted to her uncle and his family, for taking care of her, aiding her upbringing, fulfilling the role of parents, and hence helping her to be normal. But Xavier's presence on that day turned her life upside down. She was now a student at Nevermore Academy, funded by Principal Weems’ study forum. 

After you recovered within a week, the first thing that dawned on you was to meet him, Xavier, the ‘ hero ’ of your life. You knocked on the door of his studio and waited for a while. There was no answer for a few minutes and when you finally made up your mind to leave, Xavier showed up. He was in his casuals with a teeth-flashing grin on his face.

“How’re you, y/n? The last time I saw you, you were in a hospital bed and now you’re here. in front of me.”, Xavier danced on his toes as he walked into his studio. You followed him and the moment you stepped into his studio you were taken all in awe. The room was filled with artboards, canvases, and sketch supplies, and everything reflected you. Indeed, y/n did not come here to be thankful for what he did since she was not. She was not happy with how her life seemed so devoid of any family. Her uncle was the last of her family and now he is gone. All because of him, Xavier.

“You look better than the last time I saw you.”, Xavier added as he felt the silence between the two of you deafening. You swallowed hard as he tried to ease the tense ambiance thinking how rude of him to remind you of the very wound he was responsible for. There was a desk with a closed sketch pad that caught your attention. 

“Your drawings are very beautiful.”, you pitched in opening it and your heart dropped at the sight of your feather that was kept safely in between those rusty pages. A short gasp escaped your lips as the whirlwind of your life hit you.

Xavier was standing behind you, close to your shivering body. “They are all about you.”, a low whisper before he extended his hand to remove the veil from the canvas. The cloth dropped at your feet revealing every bit of dreary in you that you always wanted to hide. You hated how he could see through your pangs and pathos, you hated how he could and would have eradicated all of it, even if it meant being burnt by it. You swiftly tackled out of his towering frame, feeling naked even though you were more dressed than him. 

“Stay away from me. You shouldn’t come near me.”, Surprise took Xavier in all proportions. His eyebrows became congested as you continued. “I’m grateful that you saved me but do not do that again, ever.” With that, you walked out of his studio but a firm grip on your wrist kept you from running away anymore.

“Listen, I’m being haunted by you, your pain, your emotions, and everything you feel for the past few months, and all you could say to me was to stay away from you… not even a proper thank you.”, His breath hit your lips as he drew in a sharp breath before his amber eyes landed on you, your shaky lips and pale eyes.

Embarrassment rushed into your cheeks and you pushed him lightly uttering, “Stay away” with a little glare to ward him off but when you vanished out of his sight he was not dejected, not at all. Sure, he was conflicted but the way you told him to stay away whereas your body spoke otherwise made him relish the chase that has haunted him for months now.

They say one can only save people only if one wants to be saved. You neither needed help nor saving but you could see why Xavier begged to differ, wanted to be the odd one out, and craved the crown from saving you from your only family. You always had been a rebel since your childhood, going against the flow of the stream. Somewhere in the corner of your heart, you knew you were different, you would be different. 

It was the end of June when you first felt your body ache, back arch, muscles cramping excruciatingly as if someone was poking needles in your skin. Your arms clung to your body as your back bled for the first time. The wailing of such lethal agony submerged amidst the sound of rain as two enormous wings grew with lustrous hues of carmine and amber. Your breathing became regular again, your body stopped hurting as the wings flapped open involuntarily. Every mark, scar, and wound on your body since you were a child began to heal, all by themselves. 

Everyone rejoiced when you went through the family ritual and stood in front of your clan as the last phoenix of your bloodline. It was a miracle that a phoenix had been born in the bloodline but just like with blessings it came with a massive price. You were a healer and a destroyer at the same time. Somewhere something has to die to keep you alive, again and again. Every time you were wounded or hurt, your mother had to lose some of her life until she became lifeless, forever. But the family oracle told your father that it is a part of the process, part of a phoenix's journey that every one of their loved ones had to sacrifice in one way or another. 

Your father just had a miraculous idea to save you and himself from the bottomless pit of despondency and mutual hatred lurking in his heart because of you. He volunteered to sacrifice himself even if that was against his will. The oracle seemed to be unsure about the idea, saying that the cycle might shorten but not cease. But your father was right, the cycle did cease and you became aware of it when your uncle tried to chop off your wings, uprooting the evil once and for all, and no one in your family was harmed. Still, unfortunately, you were under the radar of an outcast, Xavier Thorpe. ‘What would happen if someone not from your bloodline were to sacrifice? What would happen to your mate if they were not an outcast? What would. . . thoughts would not cease to bombard your mind until a knock disrupted your trail of thoughts.

You lifted your eyes for a glance only to find Xavier inclining against the bookshelf with a saccharine smile on his face. Your stomach turned at the sight of him. ‘How can a person be so forgiving?’ but it seems that he is rather forgetful than forgiving. He picked up a random book from the shelf and sat in front of you.

“You’re hurt. . .”, you murmured to which he responded, “more than you think . . .” while turning the pages of the book and occasionally stealing glances from you. You rolled your eyes and leaned towards the table eyeing his hands that had a lot of scratches. It was probably from a silly fight with other boys, maybe the normies; for him, it was just a scratch yet for you it was an opportunity to apologize for the other day. 

“Give me your hand.” As you extended yours, Xavier's reflexively recoiled under the desk. “I’ve no intention of harming you.”, you uttered touching the palm of his other hand that was still on the desk. “Besides, I’m just clearing my debts.”

“Um-hm.”

You inhaled sharply before you flapped those lustrous enormous wings to heal with him, his wounds. Your wings glowed for almost a minute and the hand that was hurt was healed which he was hiding under the desk. It is impressive how Xavier hurt the very hand that can create masterpieces. What a clutz!  He interlaces his fingers with yours as he murmured, “A touch . . . is all you need.”

You begrudgingly pulled your hand away standing up and yelling whisperingly, “stop it. stop this. . . and don’t come near me.” With that, you grabbed your book and went towards the exit of the library. Xavier sat like a child who would mourn for the broken toy rather than demand anew.

“Wait.”, Xavier followed you. He kept yelling in the middle of the corridor, “Y/n. wait.”

“Your wings.”, you finally turned your head but not without letting out a sigh of annoyance. “You’re hurt. . .bleeding” and that is when fear crawled underneath the skin. 

“I never bleed.”, you retorted.

“And, I never lie.”

If it were someone else, you would have shooed them away. But this was Xavier, who saved you from an inevitable, to whom you owed nothing but the truth. Even though you tried to heal yourself you could not, perhaps because you healed someone and that too for the first time. 

Xavier might be persistent but he was not dull. It didn't take him long to connect the dots and hence you had to do the very thing you wanted to avert from the first place. His room was not tidy but not neat and clean either. With Rowan gone he has the room all to himself. You wanted to go to the infirmary, but there wasn't anyone available. Besides, with all the mess you are in you didn't want to risk it.

“I promise I'll behave.”, he said, swinging his hands up in the air in a form of surrender. That made you smile a little as you turned around so that he could tend to the wound. He unzipped your dress and carefully tucked it along your waistline without harming the feathers. Even though you had your camisole on, you still felt naked. His fingers brushed against your skin. It was ice cold. You had to hold your breath as he dressed the wound. 

Xavier noticed how your shoulder blades had been marked. He grazed his fingers over the part from where your wings grew that made you instantly shriek and move away from him. 

“Are you done?”, you asked, surprise and embarrassment coursing through your skin. Your upper body was barely clad, nothing but an unhooked bra. 

“No.”, and within a blink, his lips were already on yours. You could taste the longing and desperation with each suck. Your hands curled around his nape as his hands got rid of the minimal clothing from your upper body. “First time?”, he asked as he moved away leaving you breathless yet craving for more.

“Why? You care?”, you blurted out stepping out of your dress. Xavier eyed you from up and down. You did not flinch but rather smiled as you noticed his astonished face. You had nothing on but just the underwear. 

“I do.”, one of his eyebrows jumped as he knelt near you. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”, he murmured grabbing your calf muscles and kissing your femininity over the cloth. He took a glance before tucking the hem of the panty in between his fingers and undid it. Your hand reflexively went over his head as he kissed your entrance, lapping over your pussy lips that made you suck in a sharp breath. He sucked on your skin, followed by a feeble bite into your inner thighs. 

“AH!”, you winced pausing his ministrations. “Don’t you taste divine?”, he whispered kissing your lips, wetting them with the blend of his saliva and your slick. He was too dressed. You cocked an eyebrow at him and he took the hint. You co-operated as he became almost naked, and was back up even though you wanted him to continue.

“You won’t hurt me. worry for yourself.”, you said as you felt his hands palming your cheeks a little too long than they should. His hands traveled back to your entrance and you moaned under his slight touch.

“What? Never played with yourself?”, he added that surely turning the cogs in your head. You pushed him onto the bed, sitting on him struggling to take his cock in and he was not even helping. All he did was watch you let out whimpers of frustration as you lazily glided on his cock. He rested himself on his elbows saying, “Look at me.” And as you did, his fingers dig into your plush ass cheeks slowly adjusting you at a proper angle and stretching you. You kissed him so break the eye contact that made you feel naked, even though you were. Both of you jolted as you could feel his cock inside you.

His hands clamped around your waist as you bobbed on him, with greater force and broader strokes but slow. With each sloppy hit you felt his cock twitch inside you; your hands desperately roamed all over your body, heat bubbling as you could feel your body tensing, picking up the pace he was setting you in, and the orgasm lurking underneath. You can tell; a few more strokes and you would cum so easily. 

He can feel it too. Xavier winced as he felt you clenching around his cock. His legs folded to support your back while your hands flew to his shoulder blades, his knuckles turning white, his grip growing stronger around your waist and you came right away, back arching and your wings flapping open involuntarily, eyes rolling white relishing the high as your thighs squeezed in.

With your breathing rash and heavy, you felt all mushy in the head and so was he. Xavier could have sworn that he has not seen anything more beautiful than this, than you sitting on him with his cock buried inside you; your skin glistening in sweat with your gorgeous wings at the display. 

As soon as Xavier’s breath relaxed a bit he pulled you into his embrace for a kiss. He could not help it, you were too beautiful to look at. Besides, he was not done, not yet.

—

by @blueparadis

[nerdykeppie]

Launching Tuesday - Historically Queer, our next enamel pin collection!

We Have Always Been Here.

Ten pins - two pairs, five single pins, and the La Maupin mega pin (she needed extra room for her headdress) - each with multiple unlockable colorways.

We launch Tuesday, 9/12, at 3PM Eastern, noon Pacific. Follow us on Kickstarter to be notified when we launch -- or just to help out! The visibility to Kickstarter from having followers on our campaign helps a lot. :D

Featured in this campaign:

Enheduanna, oldest named author. Incorporating trans themes into writing thousands of years old.

David & Jonathan, king & prince whose love surpassed the love of women.

Sappho, Lesbian poet. She should need no other introduction.

La Maupin, also known as Julie d'Aubigny. The original disaster bisexual. Opera singer, swordswoman. May have burned down a convent.

Publick Universal Friend, American religious figure. Going by gender-neutral pronouns since the year the Declaration of Independence was written.

Anne Lister & Ann Walker, the Gentleman Jack & her wife. Acknowledged as the first same-gender marriage in modern Britain.

Dr. James Barry, British surgeon. A transgender man, Dr. Barry performed the first C-section done by a European in Africa in which both mother & child survived. He is also credited with vastly improving conditions for wounded soldiers in the British military.

Nikola Tesla, Serbian-American genius. Listing Tesla's inventions would take a series of posts. Liked pigeons better than people.

If you don't see your favorite historical figure, don't fret! We've planned multiple sets of Historically Queer figures. We can't use them all up at once. :) Help ensure we can make future sets by helping us create this one!

Frequently Asked Questions under the cut.

Hey, what flag is that on Sappho?

That's the Sapphic flag, created by @tepkunset. NerdyKeppie's owner, Spider, is a butch lesbian who uses that flag for their art.

Hey - what about [historical figure]? How could you forget [historical figure]? This is erasure!

We didn't forget, we promise - this is the first of several installments of this project. After the absolute stress of the last Kickstarter when we had 300+ different SKUs by the end of the project, we decided to take a more focused approach to Historically Queer. We attempted to provide a good cross-section of identities, and will continue to expand in future projects. Spider has a huge folder on his computer full of planned pins and reference images.  

But historically...

Yes, we know that it isn't totally proper to use today's terms to discuss people who lived a long time ago. But also, how else do we talk about our community history in a way that's understood, and celebrate our shared queerness, other than to use the words and iconography which are understandable to us now? We celebrate our shared history with the words and understandings most accessible to all of us, and we hope that by providing not just the pins but a few elementary facts about these historical figures, we'll encourage people to read more about them in their original context.

[electricalstemplates]

Can we get some NBC Hannibal themed name templates please? :D

Here you go!! Hope you like them!

٬٬Name ⤹🩸⤸ Pronouns٬٬

⇴﹞Name ⍉ Pronouns──🥩

🍷␥Name ✄ Pronouns﹒

ꔠ┉Name╿Pronouns﹅

ıl→Name ꒷꒦ Pronouns⸃⸃

[thetreefairy]

Is it alright if I request Yandere father Gojo satoru where his daughters ability is to control time since Gojo has absolute control over space at an atomic level and she also has infinity but he never taught her how to use it but durining the shibuya arc she either reverses or stopped time to save a couple of people a d stop certain events from happpening (if this is too much you do t have to do the whole shibuya arc part )

Sorry that this is long anyways have a nice night/day ( `ε´ )

Since I have not watched season 2 yet, I am not doing the shibuya arc part. Since you also specified fem pronouns, the reader will be fem.

edit: hehehe, I forgot to say: have a nice day as well and I loved this request :D

warnings: yandere themes, isolation mentioned (I do not condone this and if you can seek help please do), Gojo is a piece of shit and two-faced, Reader is done with life, swearing because author is in pain and sick and when the author is sick they swear a lot, vague ending

I don't understand the ability completely, but I made it so that if you didn't master it properly you can get hurt when you use the ability (which might actually be apart of it, but my memory is shit)

Ko-fi

Consequences and actions

Goji Satoru was the first sorcerer to be born with limitless and six eyes in 400 years, so truly he was surprised when he saw that his daughter had them too. It was weaker than his, yes.

But he didn't know what to do. He didn't want his daughter to master both because then she wouldn't need him anymore.

"Dad can you teach me use both?" Reader had once asked, and his answer was: "There is no reason for you to learn."

It frustrated Reader to no end, she had the abilities but she wasn't allowed to develop and become a full-pledged sorcerer.

Satoru could understand Reader's frustration to an extent, but after a while of you complaining and begging to start training, he started to get annoyed.

"Reader, if you don't stop complaining right now, you will lose your communication privileges." Satoru hissed. Reader scoffed and muttered; "You should just call it isolation."

"Watch your mouth." Satoru hissed. "That's no way to speak to your father."

Reader rolled her eyes. "I just don't get why." Satoru sighed and spoke softl; "It's too dangerous, you would get on the curses radar and right now I got the world believing that you are just a child with no special powers, with no grade."

"When you are gone." Reader started. "How will I be able to protect myself if you aren't here?"

"That's not for you to worry about, now stop complaining and whining about it."

Unfortunately for Satoru his students like Reader more than him, so they helped her with learning how to control their abilities. Well to the best of their extent.

So when Reader had been good in Satoru's opinion she could tag along on a school mission. "Remember, if there is a fight run don't fight. I'll find you with your tracker."

"Wait what tracker-"

"Excuse me I misspoke. Habits, I meant habits." Satoru lied quickly with a grin and kissed Reader' forehead, sounding rather soft. "Now can you promise me you'll stay out of the way before we meet with the class?"

Reader nodded and hugged Satoru. "Thank you dad for taking me with you."

"No problem, kid." Satoru chuckled.

Unfortunately for Reader she couldn't keep that promise. Out of instinct she protected Satoru and Yuji for a curse that suddenly appeared. What was worse is that she used her abilities.

But using your abilities out of instinct can hurt you quite a lot, Reader started to bleed out of her eyes..

"D-dad." Reader muttered out. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

Satoru brushed away Reader's blood stained tears. "It's okay, you did it out of instinct." This caused Reader to become confused. "Y-you aren't mad?"

"Baby, you are injured you think I will be mad right now?" Satoru asked Megumi to grab his eye cream and used it on you. "Class dismissed."

Satoru took Reader home, unexpectedly calm. Causing Reader to feel like a storm was coming. Satoru was making her a drink when he asked: "You trained your abilities, didn't you?"

Reader tensed up and nodded slowly. It was better to be truthful, right now. "... I suppose I cannot be that angry as it might have saved your life." Satoru muttered with a frown. "Drink this."

A glass of soda was put infront of her. Reader drank it, she was quite de-hydrated. "Thank you, papa."

"Why did you train without my permission?" Satoru asked. "I want to be able to protect myself." She admitted. "So that you can trust me with going out more."

Satoru chuckled as her eyes became dazy. "Perhaps you should figure out when your drink is spiked then."

Reader stood up and stepped back in shock.

"Awh, did you really think you wouldn't be punished?" He grinned. "How cute my dear daughter."

She tried to back away knowing full well what will happen.

"Maybe I should break your legs." Satoru mumbled doing a fake thoughtful look. "I got it!"

"Dad, please."

"I will make sure that you fully understand my love!" Reader knew what this meant, being locked up, and much more. "Maybe I should get you another parent to help with that as well..."

Oh, that was new.

"But I don't want to share you at all...."

[hymnoeides]

Figured I should make a intro post :D

Hihi, call me Ant! I am 18↑ and use any pronouns. ENG+中文 ok! My main interest here will be general Greek Mythology with a more specific focus on the epic cycle and similar themed works. Ex: Epic: The Musical!

I enjoy just casually doodling whatever comes through my way and catches inspiration :3 My asks are open and feel free to talk/ask about anything and send requests! I’m too shy and terrified way too easily, so I might be a bit flighty. My works here will be mostly SFW, but there might come days where I post artistic nudity and slightly more mature themes with blood/violence/death. I’ll do my best in having warnings!

Lmk if I mess anything up in any way asap 🙏 I’m still getting used to tumblr so please bear with me,,, I’ll try to do my best!!!!

Regarding using my art:

- Feel free to use my art in icons/edits/etc. as long as there is proper credit

- I’m a bit on the fence about reposting, but as long as there is 1. Proper credit and 2. Just lmk where it’s going, it should be ok! Respect my wishes if I ever ask for it to be taken down pls

[lucky-stick]

Yip :3 (welcome to my den)

old intro now used for second acc

DNI:❌

Basic dni (homophobes racists ect) , anti pet/age regression , anti therian/alterhuman , nsfw pages , any politics page (don’t send me things about Palestine and Isreal war ect) , don’t flirt with me it makes me and my fiancé uncomfortable

idk what else just don’t be an asshole I block freely ^^’

╭ 🌵･:*˖ ˋˏ ༻🏜️༺ ˎˊ ˖*:･🐕

┆name: lucky🍀/fossil🦴

┆pronouns: she/he/they/it/(canine themed xenos)

┆kintypes <- main kintypes <- aquatic edition

◟ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🪨♡‧₊˚

My requests are open but can be slow cus of school <3 here

tags:

#🐕 yote journal

#�� fact sheets

#🦴 stimboards

#🐾 moodboards

#🎾 irl dogboi

#🥏 exercise

#🦇 the wife

Random:

LIKES: ‧₊˚🪨✩ ₊˚🪵⊹♡

Walkies :D , dog/cat toys(crinkly and chewy ones) , sunbathing , digging holes (especially in sand) , swimming(ocean or river not pool) , scented candles and incense , soft blankets , loyalty , meeting new people/creechers , running around in long grass , smell of fresh baking , cosy spots , new places , clear nights(for stars :0) , herbal tea , helping others , smell of fresh cut herbs , salmon , seaweed , scuba diving , rock pool , climbing in trees , sunflowers , pet rocks , ball pits , helping hurt animals , warm baths , cold showers , cloud watching , hip flask , Lo-fi , peace , hope , optimism .

DISLIKES: 🍂⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍂༄

Thunder , fireworks , isolation , tight clothes , hash chemicals , pollution , strong perfume , strong wind , crossing roads , loud machinery , tight schedules , school , politicians , unnecessary conflict , close minded people , chaos , evil , greed , pessimism .