#i cannot shut up about these characters. i simply cannot. it's like a curse

[mellowlow]

you cannot convince me that Oonagh O'Dwyer is not an heroine written by Actual Ancient Greek Tragedian mr Euripides of Salamis

[endursent]

My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It (4)

【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , slight shenanigans , gn!reader 】

【 characters; alhaitham , arataki itto , baizhu , cyno , dainsleif , diluc , kaedehara kazuha , kaeya , kamisato ayato , kaveh , neuvillette , tartaglia , thoma , venti , wanderer , wriothesley , xiao , zhongli 】

【 premise; " You have been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned you into a cat, your partner has no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet he also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】

【 note; im sorry. this is so long... lol. 】

【 word count; 11.150 | read on ao3 | hsr reader ver | gi his ver | hsr his ver 】

Alhaitham;

He usually wouldn’t allow pets in the house… not because he dislikes them—Alhaitham simply wouldn’t want to have to clean up the hairs that fall off you after moving between every spot you lie down in. 

  Nevertheless… here he is, with a brush in hand as he tries to get it out of the sheets. You sit next to him apologetically (getting more hairs into the same sheet where you’re currently sitting, of course) and watch as he scoops it into a small bag. Alhaitham sets the bag aside and picks you up easily with one hand, his large palm lifting under your tummy and plopping you back down on his lap as he turns back to brushing your hairs away. 

  Feeling eyes on himself, Alhaitham looks down to see your large, round cat-eyes looking up at him, tail swaying. 

  He put you in his lap—doesn’t that mean it’s petting time?

 Where’s your damn attention?

  Slightly exasperated, Alhaitham tries to multitask and pet you while he's scooping your hair—but more keeps tossing around with every upstroke of your thick fur… why did you have to turn into a hairball? Couldn’t you have been a hairless cat? He’s almost tempted to just put you in the bag. 

  He’s a respectable “pet owner”, but does lack in one aspect that’s quite important to you, at least… perhaps not all cats

  No kisses?? 

  You’d at least like some on your head—he doesn’t have to kiss your nose or anything. Though you shouldn’t be surprised, Alhaitham isn’t very forthcoming with his affections and most of your casual kisses are by your initiation and his response to it.

  So now you have to effectively smush your furry little head into his face to communicate that you want kisses. 

  It takes him a few tries to understand what you need, but thankfully he got it rather easily, smart lad. 

  Kaveh sometimes catnaps (kidnaps) you for… cat naps. He says it’s nicer than hugging his own pillow—and you don’t particularly mind, but Alhaitham does. Once he can’t find you after a general sweep of the house he figures Kaveh took you again and like a seasoned thief, swaps you out with a pillow while the architect is asleep. 

  “Hmph… he should get his own cat,” Alhaitham says to himself after shutting the door quietly, holding you like a baby in his arms, your paws in the air. He looks down, grey hair tilting over his eyes as he smiles only slightly. “What? You are my cat. Perhaps I should call you kitty from now on, even after you’ve changed back.”

  You tried to climb onto the back of the chain in the study when Alhaitham was doing some studies once, but quicker than you could react—even with these new cat reflexes—he grabs you by the scruff of your neck and hoists you off. “You’re scratching the furniture,” he moves you from the back of the chair and plops you down on his lap. “Do refrain from doing that.”

  Hmph. You wanted to bite his hair a bit… it smells nice. But fine. Lap it is, you can settle for that.

  It takes you about two and a half minutes not to be satisfied with that, and lounge over his book instead, hoping he’ll stop and pay attention to you instead. You have a feeling he would do the same if he were in your position. 

  Alhaitham seems annoyed for a few seconds, but he only needs to stare into your big, cute cat-eyes for a few seconds to fold. What can he do? It doesn’t take much for you already to rope him into whatever shenanigans the day brings, and especially not like this.

Arataki Itto;

You just wanted a nice, cool nap. 

  It’s hot as balls in Inazuma, and you found an excellent spot under a slanted roof. You got comfortable and were half asleep already when you’re suddenly dragged off the crate and raised in the air like a divine heir. 

  Flailing in protest, your screaming of; “PUT ME DOWN YOU OAF” isn’t translated very well into frantic meows and hisses. 

  And of course, Itto has no idea what you’re trying to communicate—in fact, he thinks you’re just a bit surprised yet happy to see him. He sets you on his shoulder and you hold on for dear life. He’s broad, but broad muscles are also rather round and his outfit isn’t easy to grab onto—you just thank feline evolution that you have good balance and can hold yourself somewhat steady. 

  He sometimes just parades you around on his head like a strange hat, he doesn’t even seem to mind the death grip you have on his scalp. 

  Best naps, laying out in the grass on a warm summer’s day as the bright rays of the sun shine down on you. It’s comfortably warm, your fur keeps you cool enough that you don’t get lightheaded—despite popular belief, Itto is not a snorer, but he is a hugger. 

  You’re caged against his broad chest and there’s little escape or ways to wake him without scratching, biting or wailing like you’re trapped under a boulder. 

  Itto is a seasoned pet owner, he has multiple beetles that he takes good care of and thus he’s surprisingly adept at handling you. He doesn’t toss you around (except to put you on his shoulders or head) and doesn’t lock you out of the house or forget to feed you. In fact, you’d say he’s a top-notch owner, though you might be slightly biased. 

  The summer days are warm in Inazuma, and sometimes one just needs to do something to keep their mind off of the heat. Even with your coat protecting you from most of it, even you are starting to get dazed by the sharp, overbearing heat of the sun. And Itto is also very good at filling empty time. 

  He takes you out to the beach, though it wasn’t the best idea—he thought it was genius, the ocean is cool enough, there are not many around on the eastern beaches because of the awkward positioning and further distance from the city… but he didn’t take it into account that you absolutely refuse to get in the water, and there’s no shade. So that idea gets abandoned quickly. 

  For some reason he loves to touch your nose; poke it, kiss it, rub it… anything. And every time he does, you have to wet it again—it almost becomes a funny game to him to touch your nose and watch as your tongue darts out to wet it again. 

  Being unable to communicate with you isn’t a problem, he’s a yapper and can talk enough for the two of you. You try to meow along in response to show that you’re listening, but even if there was no brain behind your eyes, he’d still talk your ears off. 

  He creates a makeshift cat-bed for you out of some blankets and cushions, Itto was rather proud of himself for the craft that went into making it as soft as it is…

  It still always ends up with you on his chest or legs at the end of the night. Without exception.

Baizhu;

He really scratches his head over this situation, how did this happen to you? You had gone out to deliver some medicine to those who aren’t well enough or mobile to come fetch it themselves, and had stayed out far longer than usual—Baizhu had started to worry and nearly had gone to look for you… when a cat with your eyes and mannerisms stumbles into the pharmacy meowing up a storm trying to explain itself. 

  Distressed, confused and much smaller than you’re used to being, Baizhu quickly scoops you up into his arms to calm you down. “Do not worry, I recognise you,” he assures—he feels a little silly saying this to a cat, and has a twinge in the back of his mind that he might be wrong. But the way you’re waving your paw is strangely… human, though muddled by the restrictions of your cat-joints. 

  Changsheng however, finds this HILARIOUS. She unwinds a bit from Baizhu’s shoulders and nearly bumps snouts with you as she wonders whether you were even fully aware of yourself, and after some arguing—in the form of loud yowling and meowing—they concluded that yes, your mind is well. 

  Baizhu tries everything he can think of, but he’s never really encountered a situation like this before and he has to use a lot of his attention to theory-crafting and tests. 

  The only thing that made a difference, was that one concoction he crafted made your ears twice larger… but it didn’t change you back. So now you just have unnaturally large ears for a cat. 

  He smiles sheepishly as he examines you to make sure nothing else is affected. “Ah… apologies, my dear. I don’t mean to laugh… but the ears,” he tries his best not to smile too widely, or give a soft laugh. But it’s difficult, you look so disproportionate it’s just adorable.

  Despite your grievance over your proportions, Baizhu can’t help but rub your ears and scratch behind them. He gives you some good treats as an apology. You reluctantly accept. 

  Unfortunately, Baizhu has a job to do and can’t just close the pharmacy off from his assistance to tend to you. He multitasks as much as he can, but there are scheduled appointments to be present for.

  But he has a good idea of how to utilise you, after all, you’re the usual deliverer—customers likely won’t mind if you’re cat-sized.

  Thus, he gets some help from contacts and a day later you have a fancy harness with a delivery box on your back. Baizhu sets some medicine in it and fastens it properly so it won’t slip off and you don’t feel too constrained… and sets you on your way. 

  You were getting bored lounging around in the pharmacy anyway, so you revel in getting to stretch your legs a bit. You make the deliveries in record time, able to get through tiny crevices you weren’t able to before and hope through shortcuts you didn’t even know about.

  As you return to the pharmacy after the final run, Baizhu smiles and kneels down in front of you, removing the harness and scratching where the lines of it had pressed against your fur. The nice feeling of being pet brings a rumbling purr from your chest and your tail sways happily as he gives you some water to drink and attention. 

  “Good work today,” he strokes between your large ears and rubs his thumb on your cheek. “It’s almost time to close up, let’s go upstairs and continue trying to figure out how to turn you back.”

  The soft ambient light of the room and the sound of Baizhu’s brush stroking against the paper of a scroll makes you much more tired than you expected. You lay curled up on the desk against the wall where he sits and writes formulas and theories, Changsheng slithers up next to you and bundles herself on your back—it’s not particularly comfortable, but you’re too lazy to move, and it’s kind of cute. 

  Baizhu hums to himself and looks at you, his gaze lingers for only a short time before returning to the scroll in front of him.

Cyno;

He stares at the cat in Tighnari’s hands, his eyes look up to the man holding you and then back down. “What.”

  The ranger deadpans and plops you into his arms. “I’ve been scouring the library for days while you were in the desert, I don’t know what happened, but it’s just how they are right now.”

  Cyno lifts you up by holding your torso under your front legs, he peers at your face as you dangle like an idiot but have no way to really wriggle away. “Blink twice if it’s really you.”

  You blink twice.

  “Huh,” he just makes a sound of affirmation, then tucks you under his arm. “Thank you, I’ll take it from here.”

  Tighnari stares at him, unimpressed by his lack of reaction to the fact that his partner is currently a small, furry cat. “You're not going to ask where I found them, how I know it’s them or how my progress is going when it comes to turning them back?”

  Cyno is silent for a beat before he speaks again. “I know it’s them, I know their eyes.”

  Somehow, the duty of getting you back to normal remained on Tighnari’s back, and Cyno sets you down on the dining table in your shared home. He folds his arms over his chest and analyses you, it’s a little awkward—you’re not sure why he’s staring so intensely at you. 

  “This is… quite the cat-astrophe—”

  Oh no. 

  You have no way to stop him, and though you usually let him get it out of his system once he feels the need… you could also stop him once it gets out of hand. In this form, you’re effectively defenceless and unable to protest in any meaningful ways. 

  Thankfully, he does stop after you dive under your bed and hide for ten minutes in hopes he won’t drag you back and perform stand-up for you for the rest of the night. 

  Once Cyno is assured this strange transformation isn’t dangerous nor necessarily permanent, he’s rather laid back about it. He finds it quite funny (evidently) and there’s no way around it, you’re cute like this. Not that he didn’t consider you cute before, but it’s especially unavoidable now. 

  There’s no real way to stop him from making jokes or puns about this situation, it’s in his soul—and though you wouldn’t trade his soul for the world, you get moments of temptation when his brain hyperfocuses on one thing to centre his jokes around. 

  They get a bit tired.

  You follow him around everywhere, it’s not like you’ve got better places to be. He thinks it’s rather adorable to see you trotting around at his heels as he walks through the city, though he tells you to remain home when he has work to do—it can turn dangerous sometimes, depending on the day, and he recognises that your body is smaller and more fragile than it used to be. 

  He does always come back right away, he wraps up any follow-ups and paperwork as quickly as he can—if only for the moments of arrival. Of opening the front door and being greeted by you sitting at the entrance of your home, staring up at him with a swaying tail. Waiting excitedly. 

 Dainsleif;

You’ve never seen this expression on his face, in the moments after you touched a strange-looking artefact, there’s a poof—and your body shifts to that of a small cat. It wasn’t painful, nor do you feel as if you were cursed in any way. 

  “... meow?” 

  Dainsleif stares at you, lips parted slightly, he’s positioned with one foot forward as he had been in the process of rushing towards you to hopefully stop you from touching what you shouldn’t… but he was a tad late. 

  He straightens and takes a breath. Okay… from one mystery to another. 

  He approaches you and picks you up—a bit awkwardly, as if he doesn’t know how to hold a cat—and you’re too confused and disoriented as to what just happened to process you being turned back towards the round artefact. Dainsleif takes your front right paw and makes you touch the artefact again.

  Nothing. No glow, no poofing. 

  There goes his only idea. 

  The following days were confusing and mildly frustrating. It’s been a while since Dainsleif traveled alone, and though he isn’t technically alone—you’re still there, it doesn’t feel the same. He’s quite struck with the confrontation that he’s become very accustomed to your presence and how much he’s come to rely on it. 

  He’s a bit quiet and distant from you for a few days, while it makes you sad—if anything, you should be the one who needs comforting—you do try to slowly approach, you know that he can run the danger of isolation. 

  After starting a flame one evening in the alcove of a cave beneath a bright starry sky, Dainsleif sits down to rest for the night. You walk over with slow steps, careful and quiet, before sitting down next to him. 

  Far enough that you’re not touching, not even your tail… but close enough to be present. 

  His eyes slide towards you, and his head follows. “... what is it?”

  “Meow.”

  His eyelids squint, unsure what to make of your reply. Your answers always make sense to him… but what can he decipher from your feline face? The only familiar part of you is your eyes, shining under the light from the flames. “I see.”

  You doubt he deciphered any meaning from your meows, but he’s engaging with you now. Progress. 

  Trying your luck, you move closer. He stays as he is, watching you closely.

  You move closer yet, your tail touches his coat. 

  Dainsleif sighs. 

  You stop. 

  He can’t particularly feel your presence, not yours—but there is a presence next to him. It is yours, despite the fact he can’t sense it… and perhaps one day, were he to outlive you as if likely, he will have to find your presence in something you’re not. 

  And though you are this weird-looking cat, somewhere between a sentient human being and a feline animal, you’re still you. 

  The same, those same eyes, the very same gaze and mind. 

  He reaches out and sets his palm onto your furry head. Dainsleif pets your head slowly, and you nuzzle into his hand. You sit in silence before the swaying flames.

Diluc;

He can’t help but think that you might’ve done this on purpose. 

  Diluc has been very busy the last weeks he’s been coming back home to the winery late, leaving early—getting up in the middle of the night and waking you up when he goes out for his Darknight hero duties—and though you rescheduled it for next week, missed a dinner in the city that had been booked in advance. 

  He does feel bad, Diluc wants to spend all the time he can with you, all his free time and more—but with the winter months drifting by, business in the winery booms as people stock up on wine for the holidays. Businesses buy in bulk for holiday menu changes, and such. 

  And now, after hurrying back home when he was contacted that “something had happened” to you… he’s standing in front of a cat. 

  He thought you might’ve been hurt, or sick—he had run so fast his hair was loosening from his usual tail. 

  And while you’re not hurt or sick, you are… different. Something definitely happened. 

  He sits down and you climb onto his lap, sitting down and pawing at his chest, small meows leaving your small mouth. Diluc strokes your back and ruffles your fur with both hands. “How did this happen?” he knows you can’t answer him, but he can’t help but ask anyway. 

  You rise up on your hind legs, front paws on his chest as you lick and wet his cheeks. Diluc’s eyes close and his face scrunches up. “H-hey, stop that,” he puts his hands around your torso and holds you away from his face, your little tongue bleping down out of your mouth. 

  A smile tugs on his lips at the cute expression. 

  He still has to attend to his job, but while he usually handles most things himself, Diluc does accept help from his staff now that you’re… like this. So now he has more time for you, which isn’t exactly how he intended to spend that free time—searching for ways to turn you back, and having you loafing on his lap and being unable to stand up and fetch his coffee. 

  He’s not going to move while you’re so comfortable… he wouldn’t do that even if you weren’t a cat. 

  Not the biggest fan of the hair you leave around you, he needs to wipe his clothes thoroughly after you’ve so much as looked in his direction.

  You get so much attention around the winery it’s not even funny, every employee pets you, gives you treats and treat you like you’re more of a royal cat than just a normal person turned into one. 

  Diluc came home one evening to see you loafing on the sofa, a shiny bow tied around your neck and a bowl of treats next to you… in reach for whenever you wanted it. 

  He had a conversation with the staff about making sure you don’t eat so much that your stomach will hurt… and that maybe not make you get too comfortable like this, he wants to turn you back to normal after all. 

Kaedehara Kazhua; 

He thinks it’s adorable, Kazuha is a rather laid-back person overall, and he’s certain you’ll be okay—so why not have fun while you’re like this? 

  It started all fun and games when on land, Inazuma is filled to the brim with foods that cats would love, every shop has some form of fish or vegetables that Kazuha can share with you…

  But as soon as you go out on the open ocean, it’s over. 

  Kazuha has never seen you so violently unhappy on the ship, every rock of it makes you yowl and dig your claws into whatever you’re standing on, be it a crate, table, bed or Kazuha’s clothes (you ruined two pants, but he doesn’t particularly mind). 

  You have an irrational (or very rational) fear that you might be tossed off the ship and into the ocean at the slightest dip of the deck. Kazuha does his best to calm you and comfort you, he even offers to make a harness and leash for you so that he can yoink you back if you happen to fall overboard. 

  You don’t find his idea as funny as Beidou does.

  Thankfully, you don’t get tossed overboard you don’t spontaneously die or have any other terrible event happen to you—and you’re so thankful to touch land that you hop off the side of the ship and to the harbour the ship docked by before it can even properly be tied down by the dockworkers. 

  Kazuha leans over the railing of the ship and calls your name, a bit worried—he hopes you don’t get lost before he can catch up to you. 

  It takes a while for the ship to dock and open up for people to leave, Kazuha convinces another person on the ship to take his duties for a while as he rushes out to find you. He’s not worried you might get yourself in trouble—you’re rather good at keeping out of it, but he doesn’t want you to get lost or have to spend all day looking for you.

  Even though that’s kind of what he’s starting to do right now…

  Kazuha shoulders past the crowd in the busy markets of Port Ormos, it’s early noon and it’s starting to fill up. The Crux has stocked up here often before and thus the both of you are quite familiar with it, but the winding streets and large crowds filling the markets can make it disorienting for even seasoned visitors. 

  After looking around for longer than he cared for, Kazuha finally spots your tail disappearing behind a corner.

  Kazuha picks up his pace and somehow manages to catch up to you, perhaps the soft breeze is on his side, as he swoops up next to you and scoops you up into his arms.

  He smiles, ducking out of the crowds and into a small alley where some crates are stored for the market stalls. “No need to run away, you’re safe on land now,” he holds you like a baby, your paws in the air as his arm holds your back steadily. “Though you are also very safe on the ship, I won’t let you fall overboard.”

  You meow gently, Kazuha isn’t sure if you’re thanking him or expressing concerns… but the way you look up at him in this position is pretty cute. “Let’s find some good food, hm?”

Kaeya;

Funniest shit he’s seen all year. 

  Kaeya tries not to look like he’s very happy this happened—so long as he knows it’s not dangerous or permanent—or that watching you lick yourself to clean your fur isn’t very amusing. 

  He brings you everywhere, lets you follow him around and even holds you and lets passersby pet you…

  Kaeya is just straight-up treating you like a real cat.

  At this realisation, that he was acting like you were a pet, and not his very real (though cat-like for now) partner and previous human… you got angry! you wriggled in his grasp, surprising him and causing Kaeya to almost drop you—he righted his hold and blinked at you with a confused expression. “What is it? Did I hold you wrong?”

  A series of angry meows and swats of your paw later, Kaeya was none the wiser. 

  He tried to bait you to “forgive” him with some nicely cut fish… and it kind of worked, that was some good fish. 

  Kaeya sits by the table you’re on as you gobble down the fish he bought you, he leans on his fist with a smile and watches as you lick your muzzle after getting fishy-oil on it and shake yourself when you accidentally dip your whiskers into the water next to the plate. 

  The sun almost makes it seem like your fur shines and sparkles under it and as you sit down, belly full and satisfied, Kaeya reaches out and scratches behind your ears. “Did you take behavioural classes before this? To behave like a real cat? You’re really nailing it.”

  You make a huffed sound, but reach your head further into his hand. 

  He tries to get you to play with toys, he buys a stick with a bundle of feathers on the end in hopes that you’ll chase it when he dangles it in front of you… but when he sat down with you on the floor of your shared home and dangled it in front of you…

  You stared at him as if he had just grown three additional heads.

  Kaeya pouts, he wriggles it a bit—and though you follow it around with your head, you still sit where you are and don’t move.

  Not until he lowered the toy and the feathered end touched the floor.

  You pounced onto it.

  Kaeya pauses, blinking at you in surprise. You look up like you got caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

  And then he just laughs, he wriggles the toy again and you swat at it in frustration for making you leap at it like that, you’re not a real cat!!

Kamisato Ayato;

He doesn’t leave you alone. 

  You’re trotting along the engawa of the estate on your way to find a nice spot to nap—and suddenly, you’re swooped up into his arms. Ayato smiles and strokes your head. “There you are, my dear. I was searching for you,” he hums and turns around to walk into the estate. 

  Ayato spends about half the day—and sometimes more—in his study tending to paperwork of many kinds. Unusually, you would lend a hand and help with the neverending piles on his desk, but you’re little help like this… still, he demands that you “lend your paw” and sit on his lap the entire time. 

  It was nice at first, he’s got a nice lap to lay or loaf on, and he would scratch you in spots you couldn’t reach yourself, or just stroke your back… but after five hours, you really want to stretch your legs.      So, you squeeze out from under his arm and stretch next to him, letting out a big yawn—only to find a finger poking your tongue?!

  The bastard actually stuck his finger in your mouth when you yawned. Ayato smiled, all smug and somehow innocent at the same time. You meowed in disapproval, but it went straight over his head, as if he had any idea as to what you had just said to him, insult or not. 

  He also keeps pinching your toe beans, sometimes making your claws stretch out and then back in—even in the middle of the night, he rubbed your paws and stuck his finger between the beans. What is wrong with this guy. 

  Other than messing with you and pulling your leg, he does provide the best food and treats��as usual, you have the privilege of accessing the clan kitchens and being made food by them on a daily basis and it never fails to make you nearly cry with how good it is.       And even now, as you sit next to his desk and his dinner is brought to him (even though you’ve tried to ask the staff to not bring it to him, and that he has to eat outside of his study or else his ass will get stuck to the floor) you are given your own tray of dishes as well. 

  Gobbling down the freshly made meals tailored to you even in this form, Ayato is happy that you seem to have a good appetite. He had been concerned that this… situation might stress you out and you wouldn’t be able to eat or sleep. 

  Despite his endless workload, Ayato somehow finds the time to pamper and take care of you between his busy schedule. He sits down with you in the gardens and brushes your fur, rubs your cheeks and kisses your nose (and you need to wet it again every time). As if you were a little fur baby for him to take care of. 

  He still talks to you as if you were as you always are, though Ayaka uses a baby-voice like one would use with a cat (she tries not to, but fails), Ayato speaks to you normally. He plucks the seeds out of a small cube of watermelon before feeding it to you as he recounts his day, humming in affirmation as you meow back about your own… he doesn’t understand it, but you need to get it out as well. 

  Your snout is practically pink by the end of the watermelon bowl, and Ayato gives you that smile… oh no. 

  “It’s been a few days now, and you ran around the garden yesterday… and now you’re covered in melon juice. Why don’t I ask Thoma to warm a bath to wash your fur?” he asks innocently, and watches in amusement as you shoot out of his lap and flee into the estate. Not a chance. 

Kaveh;

Kaveh gapes at you. You stare up at him. He blinks. You blink.

  “H-hah???!” he scoops you up—accidentally upside down, but you just flop in his arms, still blinking at him from your angle, you know he won’t drop you. Kaveh rights you and brings you nearly nose-to-nose as he stares into your eyes. “How did this happen? You were just—I was… this…”

  He holds you a few centimetres away so neither of you go cross-eyed. “... Do you understand me?”

  You nod and raise your paw, pressing it onto his cheek.

  Kaveh doesn’t move his face away and lets your paw just press against his skin. “Okay, you’re… uh, aware… how do I fix this?”

  “Meow.”

  “...” right. Maybe this was a stupid question. 

  Kaveh goes a bit overboard, he researches the best ways to take care of a cat, the best foods, beds, toys—everything. And suddenly, he comes home after a short day at work (he has more important things to tend to!) with… so much stuff. 

  You stare, dumbfounded, as Kaveh carves out a cat-space in his and Alhaitham’s house… did he get Alhaitham’s permission to do this? You somehow doubt it. 

  After everything is set up, he stands and sets his hands on his hips with a wide smile. “What do you think?” Kaveh asks, looking down at you sitting by his feet with a swaying tail. “I think it fits very well, the colours compliment our living room—and I tried to arrange it in a way that mostly hugs the wall and doesn’t intercept with the flow of the room—”

  He’s rambling again. You don’t mind when he gets going and his interior design skills ARE good, despite it not being his expertise, it goes hand in hand with architecture. 

  But… did he consult the other half of this house before doing this? 

  You found out quickly, you had just settled in the high cat-bed that hung on the wall, giving you a good view over the living room as well as a height advantage to him (now you get why cats enjoy the high ground)... when the front door opens and a very familiar Scribe enters. 

  Alhaitham wasn’t even aware that you had turned into a cat, to him… he just came home to see a random cat in the living room—and that it was arranged completely differently to give you space. 

  Thankfully Alhaitham has a good few brain cells to rub together between his fingers, and isn’t quick to rise, so he looked to Kaveh and tilted his head towards the kitchen… where they had a lengthy discussion, where Kaveh explained everything to him and asked him if it was okay…

  Which is a tad late when he’s already rearranged the entire living room and gotten you comfortable there… but fine. So long as he takes it all down and makes everything as it should be once you’re back to normal. When asked, Alhaitham said he was too busy to help turn you back and told him to consult the library. 

  Kaveh is a hugger in his sleep, and you’re a victim (you love his hugs). He practically wraps himself around you and holds you to himself the entire night—and don’t you dare try to leave, he’ll wake up and whine about it. He does sometimes squeeze a bit too much—you’re not as durable as you usually are, you’re just a little kitty…

  He gets cuteness aggression when you do anything mildly affectionate. Rub against his legs while he’s at his desk, loaf on his lap and slow blink up at him, lick his hand when he strokes your head… Kaveh tries his best not to squeeze you or shake you like a keychain, he bit into his own hand once to refrain from biting your full cheek of food once. 

  He drew a full sketchbook of you over the span of two weeks, he can’t help it—you’re too adorable and he wants to keep the image of you forever. 

Neuvillette;

Not chill about this, Neuvillette was immediately concerned with how to turn you back and if this curse-spell could have any permanent effects on you. He doesn’t really have many tomes to consult, nor are there many people he could ask for advice as to… how to fix this. 

  After some time, and you rubbing your furry cheek on his arm and leg to try and calm down his nerves, Neuvillette does slow down. He’s usually very calm in the face of the unknown or danger—but he’s never had to deal with direct danger (or not, he hasn’t figured out if it’s dangerous or not yet) when it comes to you. 

  Thankfully, you’re still there with him, just… a bit smaller, and furrier… and you smell a bit weird—still like you, but also with a tinge of something else. Perhaps that part of your scent has always been your humanity. 

  And now you’re a cat. 

  He’s never owned a pet before—and you’re hardly a typical pet, and thus consults the only person he can think of. Furina (though he’s unsure she’s ever owned a pet either?).

  And she loves you, she already likes you well enough—but like this? You’re getting picked up, petted, smooched, pampered and loved. Neuvillette just stands a bit awkwardly as Furina gets it out of her system and you get dangerously close to being fed up with her hugging and smooching… you’re not an actual cat! You just look like one!!

  After being freed from her clutches, Neuvillette holds you with more dignity for a while until you feel safe enough to walk around the ex-Archon’s home (and won’t get swooped up again). When the initial chaos is over, he sits down with Furina and they put their heads together to try and find a solution to this. They write down how it happened, what exactly changed—your mind is the same, your scent as well as your eyes. Though your fur has turned a shimmering white regardless of your head and body hair colour before. 

  You look like a big snowball. 

  There’s no real conclusion to the first session of brainstorming, but they manage to narrow down that though neither was there to see what exactly happened, it was likely a spell, or perhaps an artefact you touched (where would that even happen inside Fontaine?) or something along those lines. 

  Thus, Neuvillette takes you back home for the night. He’s a bit stiff around you, he doesn’t interact much with animals and though he won’t avoid them if a cat approaches him on the street (he’d mostly greet and nod at them) he hasn’t exactly had to care for one before. 

  He has to rely on asking you yes or no questions that you can nod or shake your head to, and makes it through the first few days like that. And while you’re… cute? (He’s not entirely sure how to describe you) Nauvillette does much more prefer you in your normal state, where he can communicate with you, hold your hand and touch your cheek without getting sniffed at by a wet nose.

  Not that Neuvillette doesn’t enjoy petting your fur and scratching under your chin, it’s just not the same. 

  It is very amusing to watch your head move left and right as you sit on the kitchen counter and watch Neuvillette prepare dinner—mostly for himself as you don’t eat typical foods now. He offers a small piece of a carrot and watches as you crunch on it for a good thirty seconds until it’s mushed enough to swallow. 

Tartaglia;

Another situation of; the funniest shit he’s ever seen. 

  He brings you everywhere—Childe has no concept of ‘pet-free zone’ because you’re not his pet? You’re his partner? His beloved? Why is he being shooed out, you’re on a leash and everything (half chewed apart because you refuse to wear it with dignity and do all in your power to get free, how dare he put you on a LEASH).

 Of course, initially, he was confused and rather concerned. He thought you might have been attacked, or targeted and thus had been made into this… cat, maliciously. 

  But you honestly seem pretty undisturbed, so he is as well. Calm cat, calm Childe. 

  He dresses you up before taking you outside—not necessarily for fun, but rather because it’s insanely cold in Snezhnaya in these months, and he doesn’t want you to be a block of ice after a few minutes. So he goes and buys some puffy coats, socks and a warm blanket for your return. You feel like you look like an idiot (you already look like a cat…) in all these clothes, but his cooing and smooching make it less annoying—mostly because now your annoyances are focused on him. 

  His siblings don’t really understand that it’s you, not at the younger range—and Childe just tells them that you’re a cat he and you decided to take care of for a while and that you’re busy elsewhere. Tonia doesn’t seem as convinced when Childe keeps smooching your nose and rubbing his cheek against yours. 

  Embarrassing enough as it is, Childe starts to call you nicknames now—it isn’t entirely unusual, but they’ve always been normal… now he’s calling you “Combat kitten” and “Fuzzy comrade”... worst of all was “General toebeans”

  You wish you could tell him to stop, but all you have are meows and hisses. 

  Snezhnayan homes are made to withstand cold and harsh winds, and thus have excellent central heating systems… also known as a fireplace—and a furnace elsewhere. And curling up on some soft blankets or a plush chair by the furnace as snow gathers on the windowsill and winds brush against the exterior of the house… there are few places more comfortable to take a nap.

  Unfortunately, Childe’s humming and singing from the kitchen disturbs your perfect peace, but you’re just glad he’s having fun. You’ll live. 

  And he brings you some treats, places a small kiss on top of your furry head and sits down in the other chair, dragging the one you’re on to be next to his so that he can stroke your back and belly when you eventually flop on your back for more attention. 

  He’s pulled every string and contact in the Fatui to try and figure how to turn you back (except a select few who will either be last measures or just straight avoidances despite advice they might give) but hasn’t had much luck so far. Thankfully you've only been stuck like this for a week or so, and thus it hasn’t been so long to be concerning. 

  Perhaps it’s just a matter of waiting it out, and Childe is surprisingly patient. 

Thoma;

The Housekeeper stands in surprise as a cat is suddenly plopped into his arms. “Ah… is this… a new house pet…?” the Kamisato estate doesn’t exactly have pets, there are some cats that come around and nap in the gardens every now and then and leave after a while, but this cat is staring at him as if they’ve known him their entire life.

  Ayato only hums as he’s already turned to another task, rushing from one thing to another as the busy days of summer come along. He doesn’t have much time to explain—nor is there much to explain. He had borrowed you for a few minutes to help him with something, he turns around for a moment, and the next you’re a cat.

  Thoma stares at him, silent for a time. He’s not entirely sure if Ayato is messing with him or not—it’s entirely possible, and par for the course for his lord—but as Ayato shakes his head and waves his hand in dismissal, he speaks again. “I already have someone looking into it, take care of them in the meantime. I’ll have someone fetch you if there is news.”

  You’re actually a cat. 

  After leaving Ayato’s study and sitting down outside where the afternoon sun has begun sinking towards the oceans beyond the cliff the estate sits on, Thoma stares at you as if he’s not entirely sure what to do with you. 

  Despite the initial confusion (and the followed concern, but it’s quickly dampened somewhat, Ayato has someone on the case and he trusts him to find a solution) Thoma is a very responsible person. He makes sure you’re not uncomfortable at all despite some estate staff vehemently refusing to let you in specific places… such as the kitchen. Fair enough. But there are also certain rooms and areas that have to be kept very clean and they don’t want cat hairs to get all over the place. 

  Thoma brings you around, he’s got many places to be, and he’s sure you’d like to stretch your legs anyway—it’s always nice to leave the estate for a few hours and run some errands. He had to head down to a nearby village and see whether trade agreements were coming along smoothly, they produce a lot of high quality rice and are often stuck in trade deals with large towns and clans for their rice—and for a well enough reason. Recently, Ayato had struck a deal with them and everything was signed and well along its way, Thoma just had to go and make sure they had everything they needed for transport. 

  It was a good walk, but you kept up easily… somehow having four legs rather than two makes you less tired after walking for some hours…? Or perhaps it’s because your body is so light now, you don’t know much about cat anatomy. 

  The meeting went well and you didn’t linger for long.

  Unfortunately, a heavy downpour began to fall on the two of you as you headed back. Thoma quickly scooped you up and tucked you into his jacket—it’s not much of a jacket, it barely reaches below his ribs, but it was just big enough for him to cover you (and lean a bit to cover you better) and pick up his pace to run back to the Kamisato estate. 

  After making it back inside, the rain was as if a waterfall had opened in the heavens to drop down on the roof. Thoma’s hair is wet and sticks to his cheeks as he sets you down. “Ah, that was close,” he laughs softly. “Are you dry?”

  You shake yourself after being pressed against his chest for so long and sniff around your fur, then give him a nod. 

  “Hah, that’s good, I’ve heard cats don’t like water much,” he smiles. “I need a change of clothes, come with me?”

  You let out a happy meow and follow him along further inside. 

Venti;

Cooes at you and talks to you with a baby-voice, he puts both thumbs on either side of your cheeks and rubs your face like it’s dough… even though it makes his nose red and his eyes puffy—despite the cursed allergy that torments his everyday life (there’s so many cats in Mondstadt) he doesn’t let it stop him from being around you. Pestering some healers for a medicine that could help, he feels… less bad, but it doesn’t really dampen the itch in his eyes and throat well enough.

  He doesn’t take this situation seriously at all, at least not nearly as much as you do—you should probably trust his reactions and instincts, as he’s far more knowledgeable than you (even though he doesn’t act like it at all) and if you were in any danger, he wouldn’t be smooching your cheeks and nuzzling you like HE’S the cat. 

  Thus, you try to calm down, to focus on just getting through the days and not feel embarrassed when you have to clean yourself or relieve yourself as a cat. 

  But Venti also doesn’t make it easy for you, he builds a “throne” for you out of books and pillows for you to have the high ground (he doesn’t want to put holes in the wall for a hanging bed) and gives you “Mondstadt’s finest tuna” that tasted very much like a normal piece of tuna, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

  Sometimes you really wonder if he was the one who cursed you just so he could mess with you and cuddle you without you being able to fend him off. Not that you would be particularly opposed to cuddles in the first place? He could just ask?? Besides, why would he choose the form of a cat out of every other pet considering his consistent sneezing up a storm around them.

It doesn’t add up, you discard your theory.

  You can’t sleep in the same bed anymore, both because Venti moves a lot in his sleep and being a cat does not make it safe, he could crush you! (as if he’s heavy enough to do that) and because he might well and truly pass away if he had to be so close to your furry-ass for such a pronged amount of time… and thus, Venti makes a nice bed for you out of blankets and pillows next to your usual one where you can rest.

  There was a time where these new cat instincts took a bit too much over, and when you were chasing a crystalfly on a walk along the roads outside the city, you had hopped onto a big rock—and after missing your chance to catch the crystalfly, you hopped onto Venti and tried to eat his braids. 

  He yelped in surprise, but laughed once he realised what you were doing. “My hair isn’t for eating, it’s no good for your digestion either!”

  You felt embarrassed about this little incident, and he kept making fun of you for it—though not necessarily maliciously, Venti just thought it was funny that you didn’t go for his hat, but his hair instead.

  Climbing to the top of the Mondstadt cathedral or the statue of himself isn’t your favourite pastime, but it’s surprisingly much easier in this form—and thus when Venti suggests you go to the top to play some songs, you had been hesitant at first.

  Making it to the top, Venti sits down comfortably as if he’s done it a thousand times (you sometimes suspect he climbs it to make you feel better, because you know he can just float up with a gust of wind) and pats his lap for you to sit down. 

  You plop yourself onto his thighs and settle comfortably as the sun sinks below the horizon, Venti takes out his usual lyre and tests a few tunes to ensure it’s properly set. “Let me play you something nice, it’ll help you sleep.”

  And it is nice, your ears flick as his fingers dance along the harp’s strings, he hums along with it but doesn’t sing full words—the vibration of the song calms you and you rest your head on your paws. 

Wanderer;

“You are the ugliest cat I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  He’s being dramatic, you’re not that ugly… but…

  Why did you have to turn into a hairless cat? 

  You feel strange, and perhaps you would also feel the same way if you had a lot of hair, but every single breeze makes you feel you are especially naked—because you are!

  Wanderer isn’t exactly happy to have to take care of you—he will do it, of course, but he will also complain about it. You were perfectly independent and functional as a person before you just had to go and sniff some plant in the wild that poofed you into a cat before his very eyes. 

  He refuses to seek help to find out how to turn you back, not because he doesn’t want anyone to know that you’re a cat, but rather because he’s certain he can handle it himself. 

  You whack at his arm with your paw, meowing up a storm after a few hours of not being fed the day after—he had completely forgotten that he needs to prepare something digestible for you… he’s never had to take care of a creature like you before—what can you even eat?? He clicks his tongue. “Don’t swat at me like that. You’re human, act like it…”

  You’re not human right now!! Give me food!!

  Eventually, he does begin to take proper care of you, even though he keeps telling you that you look like a peeled potato… you don’t have many ways of retaliation except whacking him with your paw or hissing when he lightly pinches a big patch of your skin. 

  Surprisingly, during one strangely cold night when you were curled on the bed and trying to stay warm—even the slightest drop in temperature was very cold to your hairless body… you feel something soft drape over you.     Half-asleep and cold, you squint up and scrunch your nose as your whiskers squish against the blanket, you see Wanderer turn back around after setting it over you. Hah… he’s soft under that hard shell as always, even if he tries to act aloof. 

  After several days of no luck in trying to turn you back, Wanderer does begin to cave to asking for some… advice. Not help. Advice.

  With you in his arms, head reaching towards the market stalls of Sumeru city (literally everything smells good and extremely edible) as he passes by, Wanderer takes you to meet with Nahida who is rather enthusiastic about this mystery. She pets you and smiles, humming as he recounts what happened and describes the particular flower you smelled. 

  “Hm, I have an idea, but it’ll take a while to execute… do you think it’ll be okay for them to remain like this for a few more days?” the archon taps her chin in thought, mind swirling with ideas and possible solutions. 

  Wanderer huffs, not exactly a scoff, and clapped his hand onto your head. “It’s fine.”

  But as soon as you returned back home and he set you down on the living room table, Wanderer points at you. “You better turn back to normal soon…” he folds his arms over his chest, his expression isn’t as tight as it was before. “I don’t want to deal with this forever. Just get back soon.”

  You inch closer to him on the table, reaching your paw out to tug his sleeve closer—only to rub your head into his palm. He clicks his tongue. “Whatever… don’t think this counts as an apology. You’ll have to make up for it properly when you’re you again.”

Wriothesley;

You are, quite possibly, the smallest cat he has ever seen. 

  He holds you in the palm of his hand, it’s adorable. Wriothesley cracks a grin and lifts you to eye-level. “Hm, you’re not nearly as scary like this, no one in this prison will listen to you like this.”

  You want to whack him on his nose, but politely refrain—if only because you don’t want to get dropped. You meow at him, ferocious and upset at this situation, you have a job to tend to! Things to do!

  But Wriothesley has other ideas, he sets you down on his desk and sits down. “Now, how did this happen? I assume this wasn’t intentional?” is he teasing you? Most likely. He knows you can’t just answer his questions, and you assumed he would be slightly more concerned when a guard brought you to his office…

  But no, he instantly recognised you and dismissed the guard. Had it been the eyes? The fur? Is he somehow responsible for this??

  All unanswered questions, and though he sends out word to some people he thinks might be able to help decipher this mystery, he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get you back to normal. He sets you in the pocket of his vest (it’s embarrassing that you actually fit) and goes on with his days as normal. 

  Siegwinne was initially very concerned, she seemed much more sensible in her worries that leaving you in this form for too long might be dangerous and that the Fortress isn’t exactly a good place for pets. There are a lot of crevices to get stuck in and things to get hurt on.

  Though you still retain your mind, so you should be alright in that sense… so long as you don’t get overly curious. 

  He is undeniably very warm, and cuddling up to him at night is very comfortable—especially now that you can just lay on his chest and snooze there and not worry about being dragged back into his embrace if you move too much in your sleep. You barely move at all in this form.

  Come morning, Wriothesley was already awake by the time you open your eyes, he strokes your fur and scratches behind your ears. Having a day pass by does make the initially amusing situation a bit more… real. He doesn’t want you to be struck with a permanent curse, or some kind of spell that might harm you in the long run. 

  “Don’t you worry,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. “I’ll make sure you’re back to normal soon, just stick close by.”

  And you do, mostly because you couldn’t have been blessed (cursed?) with a normal-sized cat body, but possibly the smallest there could be. You can’t even jump up onto his desk by yourself and have to yowl at him to let you up. 

  He does so happily, surprisingly eager to carry you around and help you with the smallest things. 

  Wriothesley doesn’t even change in mood from amusement when you chase the pen in his hands as it glides across paperwork he signs, you leap onto his arm and try to whack at the pet in either some strange instinctual haze, or an attempt to play—and though you whacking the pen makes it seem like he has the handwriting of a toddler, it’s just rather funny.

  The Fortress doesn’t exactly have a large variety of foods, not in the sense that it can be adjusted for the diet of a cat that isn’t accounted for during inventory fills, and thus Wriothesley sends for specific ingredients that won’t be heavy on your tiny little stomach. 

  And he also… got some cat-related things delivered, like a bed, some string toys and treats. You never used the bed, either preferring his lap to nap on, or just slept in the strangest places he never even imagined you could reach with those stubby legs. 

  But he’s a very responsible caretaker, at least, that’s what he claims as he holds you down to brush your teeth and you wriggle and flail like an eel. 

Xiao; 

Very worried, he didn’t even realise the cat sitting in the clearing of the forest was you at first and searched for you for several minutes before seeming to realise that you had just… shrunk. Into a cat. 

  He stares at you for a good minute, lips parted and eyes large… before your name tentatively leaves his mouth.

  You meow in affirmation, standing and shaking yourself as you try to understand the situation yourself—still a bit disoriented. 

  Xiao approaches you quickly and kneels down in front of you, he lifts you up to your hind legs, puts you down and inspects your ears, your tail and under your paws. You meow in curiosity as to what he is doing, and surprisingly he seems to understand your question. 

  “There might be traces of whatever did this on your body, it will make it easier to track or reverse,” he says and even checks inside your mouth, which you weren’t really happy with. 

  Unfortunately, he doesn’t find any answers, and kneels there rather awkwardly with you in front of him… what now? This situation has stumped him a bit—he’s supposed to be able to keep you safe from all manners of danger and curses like this (perhaps not exactly like this, he never prepared for this exact scenario) and now that he’s not got many leads to fix it, his mind is a bit aimless in where to search for information. 

  He has no idea how to care for you, and while he has vague ideas of the behaviours of animals…they mostly stem from wild animals and their reactions to foreign presences in their territories, or similar scenarios. 

  What does a meow mean? Is there something wrong? What does it mean when you paw at the door? Do you want to go outside? But it’s two in the morning?

  He severely overestimates the portions of food you eat, giving you a full plate of something the Wangshu Inn kitchens prepared on his request (they figured out what happened and have been trying to help him, but Xiao is still trying to be subtle and secretive about the situation) and being confused when you only ate a fourth of it. 

  Are you sick? Was it the wrong kind of food?

  He brings you along with him on his hunts, while he could leave you at the inn… how can he be sure that you won’t get into trouble? The window is high above the ground, what if you tumble out of it? What if you try to climb up on the dresser in the room and get stuck? Or fall down and hurt yourself?

  No, you’re safest with him, even if he has to wield his spear with one hand and hold you with the other. 

  He’s surprisingly good at it too. 

  Desperate after a week of unsuccessful herbs and potions he tried to make, Xiao caves and contacts Liyue Harbour and the adepti that reside there for help.

  It seems his message had gotten into Cloud Retainer’s hands, and instead of any actually helpful advice on how to turn you back… she had sent an entire booklet of cat behaviours, diets and how to take care of them.

  Helpful, sure… but not exactly what he was asking for. 

  One evening as he was out on the usual hunts, he noticed that you were walking slowly by his side, yawning and rather cold so high in the mountains. He didn’t even have to think about what might be wrong or what to do, as he had already scooped you up into his arms and teleported back to the inn, where he sat down with you on the bed. 

  “You should tell me when you’re tired…” he grumbles and tugs one of the covers on the bed to his lap where he wraps it around you as if bundling a baby up. Xiao reaches up and scratches behind your ears as your eyes blink closed in the comfort of being back in the warm room.

  He had only been petting you for s few seconds when he felt you… tremble? There was a strange rumbling sound coming from you, are you uncomfortable? He doesn’t quite understand it… but you continue to rumble as he scratches your head and ears. 

  Ah, was this the ‘purring’ he read about in one of the booklets Ganyu sent him? How… cute.

Zhongli;

“Ah…” Zhongli stares at you, this isn’t quite what he had imagined would happen… he had been crafting a potion in hopes it would help Ganyu sleep better, she had been overworking herself (again) more than usual and was so tired that she couldn’t sleep. It can happen. 

  The combination of herbs and materials required for the potion he had put together wasn’t very suitable for humans, and of course he made sure to let you know so that you wouldn’t drink it… but he hadn’t expected that only being touched by a single drop onto the back of your hand would lead to a poof, and your size being reduced and body turned to that of a cat. 

  You had only wanted to help by handing him ingredients so that he didn’t have to turn around so often… you didn’t anticipate this either!

  He makes sure the potion won’t burn and sets a lid on the pot before turning towards you. “I… had not foreseen that this could have been a danger to you, my apologies,” he kneels down on one knee and holds his hand out for you to sniff. You do so, snout twitching towards his finger before you bump your head into his palm. 

  “Have you retained some sense of consciousness?” he wonders, gloved hand moving to stroke over your small head, your ears flattening under his palm. “I’m sure I can find a way to reverse this.”

  He was sure, at least. But after some research and testing… he wasn’t making any progress—at least, he wasn’t making progress in finding ways to turn you to your normal self without some potential risks or aftereffects. 

  What he did find, was that the herb that you had been touching, and the potion he had halfway crafted was similar to another concoction that he had made before—and the effects of that had only been temporary. 

  It seems you will simply have to wait until the effect wears off. 

  Zhongli had instinctively prepared a delightful meal in the way he knows you would enjoy while you sit in the kitchen counter and watch with interest, your tail swaying happily as you watch him chop some vegetables and set them into the pot… but halfway through the process as he’s setting spices and herbs into the pot, Zhongli realises that more than half of the ingredients in the pot are unsuitable for cats to eat. 

  He finishes the meal and sets it aside, before fetching some fish you had purchased just yesterday that he was going to use for lunch tomorrow and cut it into nicely bite-sized pieces. You tilt your head slightly as you watch—the meal he had just been putting together doesn’t have any fish in it?? What’s it for?

  And honestly, when he plated your food (in a very professional and presentable way) and set it down on the dining table, then set his own on the other side for himself… you felt a bit offended. Raw fish, some rice and a hard boiled egg… next to his delicious smelling beef stew… 

  If you could’ve cried, you would have. And Zhongli felt pretty bad for the rest of the day, he tried to offer you some “safe” treats or make it up to you with some pets and scritches, but you still sulked.

  You had looked forward to this dinner all day…

  Thankfully you got over it rather quickly and Zhongli is glad that he didn’t offend you too badly… it seems having been turned into a cat had made you quite dramatic as well, he doesn’t recall you ever having sulked like this over a meal before.

  Knowing that it was simply a waiting game, Zhongli isn’t very concerned about your state, but he does ensure that you’re comfortable and not afraid—he understands that perceiving the world differently like this can be strange and even scary, but he’s glad when it seems that you’re relatively calm. 

  Your nightly routines are slightly out of whack now—something that Zhongli isn’t very fond of, he quite likes it that after cleaning up after dinner, the two of you settle in the living room for a while. He tends to read and it varies what you get up to, but it’s always a shared time where you sit in silence or chat about your days.

  He does talk about his day to you, sitting on the comfortable seat in the living room with you on his lap, Zhongli recounts his day to you and expresses that he hopes you weren’t too bored alone in the home today, and that perhaps he can convince the director to allow him to bring you for a day. He strokes your back and smiles as a rumbling purr leaves you, he scratches under your chin and touches his forehead to yours as you seem to have fallen asleep on his lap. He reaches for his book and decides to read for a while before taking you to bed. 

  Despite the mishap, he’s glad you’re safe—he will endeavour to be more careful in the future and ensure you won’t be hurt or disturbed by his work. 

[acmelxvr]

An Excellent Pairing (18+)

Pairing: Lucanis Dellamorte x Viago de Riva x Rook

Summary: When Lucanis discovers that Rook and Viago's relationship goes beyond that of a normal Crow and her Talon, he throws caution to the wind and indulges himself for one night only; surely that will be enough to satiate him for the rest of his days. However, he's surprised when he finds that they want to indulge him too.

Genre/Tags: Explicit, FMM Threesome, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Dom/Sub, Accidental Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Control, Slight Humiliation, Crying, Brat Taming if you squint, Face-Fucking, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Pussy Play, Aftercare, Creampie, Double Penetration, Overstimulation, Talk of Premature Ejaculation, Cum Eating, Gagging, Hair-pulling, Masturbation, Mild Choking, Clit Slapping, Begging, Slight Breeding, Virgin!Lucanis, Bottom!Lucanis, Top!Viago, Viago cannot SHUT UP during sex, Rook is a Cis Female

Word Count: ~12,000

Notes: Entirely self indulgent and a beast to finish. Good lord, just take a look at those tags.

Tagged as Not Canon Compliant because it doesn't really follow that whole "crow families are like real families" BS. Also tagged as Out of Character because I think Lucanis and Viago would (probably) rather gargle rusty nails than ever have non-monogamous sex. And Viago is definitely not cool enough to do half of the things he does here. But this is MY fic and damn it I want these three to fuck!!!!

I'm on Twitter and AO3 as @acmelxvr

You can read this on AO3 if you'd like to here

MDNI!!!!

When Lucanis wakes up, he finds himself in the Eluvian Room with a hand already through the mirror. He jumps, cursing out loud as Spite fills his head with his incessant yammering. “I want. To leave!” The shriek pulses in his ears, causing Lucanis’ headache to worsen with each passing second.

“I have a contract.” Lucanis starts. He turns to go back up the stairs, but Spite rages against his prison inside Lucanis’ head, causing him to fall to his knees.

“LEAVE!”

“You are impossible!” Lucanis says through gritted teeth. “We will leave. As soon as the contract is completed.” The idea of being away from Rook makes Lucanis’ heart drop, but he pushes the feeling down as he stands back up. He expects the demon to argue, but only hears a snarl as Spite retreats to the deepest recesses of his mind. He sighs, in relief and in exhaustion, knowing that Spite will simply try again once Lucanis falls asleep.

He resigns himself to walking around The Lighthouse for the night, although day and night are indistinguishable here. There are moments where everyone feels the call of sleep around the same time, but the light of The Fade does not change; a mutual agreement between all parties to leave each other alone for a few hours, one that Spite violates frequently.

Lucanis thrums his fingers against the many book spines in the library. Some are clearly from when Solas was the main inhabitant of this place, the pages thinned from wear and centuries long use, with writing in the margins from the same signature, “F”. The newer books, placed amongst the shelves by Bellara and Emmrich, brightly stand out against the old tombs. Lucanis is about to grab one, a pirate romance on the high seas, that Emmrich graciously found for him when he notices how the light from Rook’s room seeps into the library from the ajar door. 

Lucanis wants to go inside and talk to her under the guise of avoiding sleep, but thinks better of it. “I won’t disturb her. She might be doing something important.” He whispers to himself. Spite appears again, much to the chagrin of Lucanis.

“I want. To talk. To ROOK!” he snarls. Lucanis tilts his head to the side, trying to block out the demon. Once Spite starts chanting his request, Lucanis holds up a hand.

“I will indulge you this time. If you allow me to sleep after. Deal?” Spite nods excitedly.

Lucanis approaches Rook’s room, the light seeping from the door dancing around, so at least Rook is actually awake. His crow training demands that he never makes a sound as he moves, even in the supposed safety of The Lighthouse. Lucanis has noticed Rook does the same; the steps are different, but the crows move to the same waltz. 

Lucanis pauses his approach when he hears Rook’s groan muffled by something. He quickens his step, his heart hammering at the thought of Rook being in danger, but his voice catches in his throat when he realizes that Rook is not alone willingly. 

“You get to breathe when I say. And I swear, if you touch yourself I will make you regret it.” Viago’s tone is stern.

Viago.

Viago?

Lucanis’ head swarms with a million questions all at the same time. While he knew Rook and Viago were unusually close for a Talon and a regular crow in the same house, this goes beyond that. Talons do not fuck their crows, lest the opportunity to be lethally replaced presents itself. Not only that but Viago is…Viago. Uptight. Particular. Ruthless. Most rumors about each of the talons are exaggerated, but Lucanis knows that Viago’s reputation is rightfully earned. Everything said about him is completely true. So how has Lucanis not heard of this yet?

He reflects on the moments spent in the Cantori Diamond as Rook, Teia, Viago, and Lucanis worked to free Treviso from the Antaam’s grip. Were there stolen glances that Lucanis wasn’t privy to? Is this why Viago seemed more offended than the others when Rook’s slip-up was mentioned? How long has this been going on? 

Can he join?

Lucanis cringes at the last thought, his sleep deprived state allowing him to think things he otherwise wouldn’t dare to. He’s interrupted again when he hears a wet pop, and Lucanis can’t help but take a step closer to the door. “Please.” Rook moans, only to be silenced again by a growl from Viago. 

“Begging is a good look on you.” Viago says. Lucanis can hear his tip hit the back of Rook’s throat as she gags. The embarrassment that sat in Lucanis’ stomach has now dropped lower, melting into ashamed arousal. “You haven’t earned it yet, though.” Lucanis knows he should turn around right now and head back to the pantry, before he hears even more sounds he’ll never erase from his head. But as he takes another step towards Rook’s room, he’s palming himself through his pants and almost groans at the unreleased tension.

Lucanis has only dreamed about this situation, although never with the two objects of his desires together. He can’t decide if he’ll want to be in Rook’s position or Viago’s when he recalls this in private later. There’s the added layer of jealousy, too; that the two people he’s only ever flirted with can somehow fuck each other so easily, but not him. Is that what he wants from them? A quick fuck, one without feelings? Is that what they’re doing right now, or is it something more? A stolen moment between two lovers or two friends relieving stress?

Viago lets Rook up for air once again. “Viago, please…” Rook trails off, moaning as she takes Viago into her mouth again. Lucanis is a foot away from the door now, his cheeks burning hot as he presses against the wall, not daring to break the final barrier of actually looking inside and searing the visual component of this encounter into his head.

Viago hums in thought. “You look so beautiful like this. On your knees, crying with your lips around me.” Another growl, and Lucanis can discern that Viago has grabbed Rook by the hair and pulled her off. “Have you learned your lesson?” Lucanis can’t remember when he lowered his pants, but now his cock is firm within his grasp.

“Yes, sir. I have.”

Sir? Lucanis twitches at the title. His brows knit together in concentration as Viago chuckles. “Good girl.” Lucanis twitches again. “On the bed, on your knees.” 

This is a side of Viago that Lucanis can’t even fathom exists. Viago usually has the disposition of a wet cat: a bit scary from afar, but pathetic and charming in his own way once you get close enough. Lucanis always thought that the man was extremely talented in what he did, but similar to himself in that they usually killed targets first to avoid having to turn on their lacking charms. He loses his train of thought when he hears Viago’s whispers meant only for Rook’s ears. Clearly, Lucanis had read the man very wrong.

He’ll watch just this once. One time will be enough to sustain him for the rest of his days. He rationalizes it by noting that two crows should know to at least close the door if they don’t want to be interrupted. He’s walked by Rook’s door dozens of times in the hopes she’s standing outside only to find it closed. She knows how to close doors, right?

LOOK. Spite whispers in the back of Lucanis’ mind. He smears the pre cum leaking from his tip onto his palm, snarling at Spite’s interference. He hears a smack from inside Rook’s room and she whimpers.

LOOK!

Lucanis tears his eyes open and moves to occupy the small opening from the door. As he focuses his sight despite the dim lighting, he finds Viago and Rook on the small chaise in the middle of the room. Viago has one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around her neck, pulling Rook up against his chest. Lucanis examines Viago’s bare fingers, the first time he’s seen them without a pair of gloves on. They’re long, and covered in slick. Lucanis is unsure whose. His hair, which is usually brushed back neatly, has curled back to the look Viago had in his younger days, the thick black strands slightly stuck to his forehead with sweat. 

Rook whines as Viago rubs her clit with his tip, which earns her another slap to her ass. Her breasts are covered in purple splotches, some peeking through Viago’s hand on her neck. She’s also sweaty, but the sweat is mixed with her tears, her makeup running down her face and leaving black streaks in their wake. Viago’s grip tightens, his fingers pressing against her windpipe as he begins to slowly stretch her cunt. 

If this was the last thing Lucanis ever saw, he could die happy.

Lucanis matches his strokes with Viago’s pace which is achingly slow. He pulls all the way out, stops for a moment, then takes his time filling Rook up again. She covers her mouth with her hands as her moans increase in volume, but Viago is quick to tut at this. “Let them hear you.” He’s the perfect picture of control, the only indication of his impending orgasm being how his stomach tightens whenever he’s fully inside of her.

“What about–”

“Lucanis?” Viago draws out the assassin’s name as he moves the hand that occupied Rook’s hip to her clitoris, beginning to rub small circles around the bundle of nerves. She yelps, her eyes rolling back into her head in pleasure. Lucanis almost retreats at the mention of his name, but can’t bring himself to as his own hips buck into his hand. “I bet you’d like it if he watched us, wouldn’t you?” Rook nods, but Viago stops completely and begins to pull out. “Use your words.”

She whines at the sudden lack of movement, her eyes welling with tears again. “Y-yes, I would. Sir.” Viago nods approvingly, and resumes his agonizing pace. Lucanis’ heavy stare flits back and forth between the two, watching as Rook’s face contorts just so as Viago hits a spot inside her only he is aware of, his hips snapping against her. Viago is relentless; his middle and ring finger making Rook gush around him even as she begins to shake and attempt to swat his hand away. “It’s too much, Viago–”

“You can take it.” Viago’s other hand lets go of Rook’s neck, making her lean against him for support. He pinches her nipple and rolls it between his fingertips. “Just a bit longer till we can come together. You want that, right?” Rook incoherently babbles, nodding her head back against Viago’s shoulder while he smiles. “Of course you do.” 

Lucanis surmises that they’ve been at this for hours, at least. The way Rook is practically fucked out of her mind, tears streaming down her face while Viago pleasures her, has Lucanis’ thighs flexing in anticipation of his own orgasm. Viago looks down at his fingers that seem to be moving with a mind of their own and bites his lip, emitting a low groan into the crook of Rook’s neck while he kisses the bruised bite marks. Lucanis’ speed picks up along with Viago’s, both men beginning to lose control.

When Lucanis returns his attention to Rook, he gasps when he sees her eyes blown out wide looking back at him. 

The arousal that teetered into release flips into shame, his perverted viewing caught by the one woman he tried to keep away. He refuses to look or run away, at least giving her the grace of facing the consequences of his intrusion head on. Viago is blissfully unaware, completely lost in the crushing warmth of Rook’s insides. Rook is silent for one moment, her half-lidded stare holding Lucanis’ as Viago pistons away.

Then, she smiles, raises an arm to grab Viago’s hair, and tugs.

Viago growls, making Lucanis’ cock jump on its own. Rook nods, slight enough so Viago won’t notice, but perceptible enough that Lucanis’ heart flips when he starts touching himself again with Rook’s approval. “You are impossible.” Viago slaps Rook’s clit, making her jump and pull on his hair again.

“Please, Viago–” The way she whines makes Lucanis and Viago shake their heads at the same time, trying to put off their orgasms for a bit longer.

“Say my name one more time, and I swear to the Maker I will breed you till you see stars.” Lucanis goes slack jawed. Viago’s rhythm becomes erratic as he finally, finally, reaches his release. Rook’s entire body is shaking, and she draws blood from her bottom lip as she bites down.

“Viago–” She doesn’t even finish her sentence, the fifth talon moving his hand to her stomach as he adds pressure underneath her navel. It’s enough to put the trio all over the edge at the same time. 

Lucanis spills into his hand, his hips rutting into the air as he lifts his shirt over his abdomen to avoid a mess. It takes everything in him not to join the pair in their cacophony of moans, Viago especially as he twitches deep inside of Rook, making sure not a drop of his cum drips out of her. Rook’s thighs press in as her own orgasm rushes over her, Viago’s fingers slowly bringing Rook down from the edge. When the drum of his blood pumping finally subsides, Lucanis can hear the pair once again.

Viago still has not pulled out, but moves both hands to Rook’s waist and slowly leans her down, allowing her to rest her head against the back of the chaise. He supports her weight fully, his arms flexing as he holds her up, and Viago bends down momentarily to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. “Good job.” He murmurs against her skin, his usual stoic disposition returning and becoming the man that Lucanis thought he was. Rook lazily opens one eye towards the door, and has to hide a smile when she sees that Lucanis is still watching them. 

Viago’s arms wrap around Rook’s stomach, and she giggles. “You should know by now that that tickles.” Viago doesn’t move, his beard and mustache rubbing against Rook’s back. “And that does too! I’m very sensitive right now, you know.” Viago relents and pulls out, earning a content sigh from Rook as she lays down, out of Lucanis’ view. He moves to Rook’s bedside table, still naked, and retrieves a towel. They’ve done this before. They’ve done this before, here.

“And whose fault is that?” Viago wipes some of the sweat away from his forehead and then Rook’s. Here, in the perceived privacy, his shoulders drop some of the tension he seems to be holding all the time. He smiles more easily as he banters with Rook, and doesn’t get dressed immediately as he sits down on the cushions near Rook’s feet and lazily drapes an arm over the couch. Lucanis hears Rook groan and sees her stretch her arms out, then her legs, moving them over Viago’s thighs. “Have you heard of a thing called personal space?” Viago asks.

Lucanis zips his pants up and slowly steps away, careful to not alert Viago of his presence. “You just came inside me! You don’t get to complain about me violating your personal space!” The last thing Lucanis hears before he escapes back to the library, and then to the pantry, is a shared laugh between the crow and the talon.

The morning after, Lucanis leans over his breakfast and stirs his coffee absentmindedly. His mind keeps flashing back to Viago and Rook. How they looked so good together. How their bodies fit together perfectly, how Lucanis could fit in between.

“Lucanis?” The assassin jumps and drops the spoon he was holding. Bellara is quick to pick the utensil up for him and wipe it on her pants.  “Oh, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have– You seemed so–” 

“It’s alright, Bellara. Just tired.” He waves her concerns away, trying his best to remain in this moment and not last night’s.

“Right, well, Rook needs us in Treviso today.” Lucanis’ flexes his hands, his cheeks flushing pink. “Andarateia– Sorry, Teia, and Viago found a lead about the gaatlok. Could be our big break up against the Antaam!” Bellara is excited at the new discovery, but dread floods Lucanis' veins at having to face Viago knowing what his dick looks like. How can he look at Rook and not see how her tits bounced with every thrust from Viago? He goes through the motions of getting ready, grabbing his daggers and then his back-up daggers, but his mind is somewhere else: back in Rook’s room.

When Bellara and Lucanis walk down to the Eluvian Room, Rook is already there, stretching her limbs in common Crow warm up exercises. She waves to both of them, refusing to stop her mission preparations for anything. “You alright, Rook? Did you hurt yourself?” Bellara asks, offering a hand to help Rook stand.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Rook accepts Bellara’s offer, who yanks the crow up off the floor. “Neck’s just a bit sore.” Lucanis coughs in surprise, and both women look at him. He can’t make eye contact with either of them.

“Sorry, it’s just…I had some almonds earlier.” Bellara raises an eyebrow.

“...That’s nice!” She responds, and Lucanis almost kicks himself for making the situation somehow more awkward.

Once they’re in Treviso, each step further into the Cantori Diamond feels heavier and heavier. Bellara and Rook chat away, as they’re used to Lucanis’ silent brooding at this point, but only one of them is clued into exactly what he’s brooding over. “Rook! Lucanis!” Teia hugs the both of them once they’re standing in front of the Seventh Talon. “Thank you for coming.” Lucanis blinks and he relives the moment he came the same time they did.

“You’re late.” Viago snips, and Rook scoffs.

“If you were able to do this without us, you would’ve done it already.” Viago crosses his arms and sneers while Teia sighs and presses her fingers to her temples, a headache already coming on from these two.

“Right, because your reputation for finishing jobs precedes you.” Viago says, making Rook throw her hands up. Bellara laughs behind her hand, even being polite enough to turn away from the group. Lucanis watches them bicker, Teia even getting involved at one point to step in between them, and wonders how they can be so normal. How can their hearts not sing whenever they see each other after being so vulnerable?

“Please, ladies, let’s get to the job!” Teia exclaims, pushing them away from each other. It’s enough to pause their jabbering for now, and the group moves to the table to discuss the finer details of the talons’ plan. Rook leans in over Viago’s shoulder to look at the map. He points to a particular corner of the Drowned District, his gloved index finger tapping the parchment. Lucanis looks at Viago but doesn’t see anything more behind his usual harsh demeanor. Lucanis’ brow knits in confusion, considering the possibility that perhaps what happened last night was a dream.

But then, he spots it: a purple splotch peeking underneath Rook’s collar. The armor wasn’t high enough to hide everything. The bite mark is especially visible when Rook tilts her head. When Lucanis watches Viago, his eyes are unflinching, immovable as Rook speaks.

The slightest glance. Viago’s gaze roves down to Rook’s collar too.

And his lips quirk into the smallest smile.

Lucanis gasps, grabbing the attention of everyone at the table. Rook, Viago, Teia, and Bellara all turn quickly to him. “Something the matter, Lucanis?” Teia asks. Lucanis stumbles over his words, his palms quickly turning wet under the scrutiny of everyone. Rook’s stare is even when he attempts to answer. It’s almost a challenge, a way to say, “Did you see what you think you saw?”. Viago squints, studying Lucanis and how nervous the man suddenly is.

“Well, um…” Lucanis thinks for a moment. “If we’re heading to the Drowned District, we have to be careful of the infrastructure. Detonating the gaatlok could be detrimental to the people living there.” Teia raises an eyebrow while Viago tilts his head and purses his lips. “Load bearing walls and such.” There’s a moment of silence as everyone considers what Lucanis has graciously added to the conversation.

“I think Lucanis is right.” Rook says, turning the table’s attention back to her. “We don’t want the Butcher to blame anything that might happen on the Crows instead of the Antaam. Could lose us valuable support amongst the people.” It’s a good enough excuse that everyone moves on, and Lucanis lets go of the breath he was holding. When he’s brave enough to rejoin the conversation, he finds that Rook is already looking at him. She winks.

After the mission they return back to the Cantori Diamond to debrief. Rook has a small scrape on her cheek from when a Venatori member managed to move in close enough on her flank before Lucanis could stop him. It’s just a flesh wound that’ll heal with time, but Viago sighs as soon as he sees her anyway. “You got hit.” He deadpans.

“Your observation skills continue to impress me.” Rook says. “Yes, I got hit. It was fine, Lucanis took care of him. Look at how great I am!” She puts her arms out and spins, making Teia laugh. Viago remains unconvinced; He steps forward and grips Rook on the chin, turning her face to get a better look at the cut. He hums, his stature towering over the other crow when they’re this close.

His crow.

“De Riva crows don’t get hit. Dagger, or arrow?” Viago asks Rook. Teia pulls Bellara aside to talk more about the mission. Lucanis can’t peel his eyes away from the pair.

“Dagger. You know how the Venatori are.” Rook responds, almost leaning into his touch.

“I do. You should– need to be more careful.” Viago examines the wound closely. “They like to move in close like that so they can use blood magic on you.”

“I know.” Rook huffs. Viago pulls her face straight on so that way she has no choice but to make eye contact with him.

“Do you?” Viago hisses. Lucanis shifts, hoping his armor is thick enough to keep his erection hidden. Rook glances at Lucanis, then smiles up at Viago.

“Don’t worry. I have the Demon of Vyrantium at my side, right Lucanis?” Viago also looks at the master assassin, and drops Rook’s chin. Lucanis laughs uncomfortably at the heat radiating from them.

“You’re going to kill me.” Is all Lucanis says. He isn’t sure who he’s talking to.

Back at The Lighthouse, Lucanis adds some items to the grocery list. The dinner table is completely empty, tonight’s meal leaving most people too full and tired to socialize like they usually do. The dim light from the candles lulls Lucanis, whose eyes close wearily. When he blinks them back open, it feels as though no time has passed, but then he looks at the note.

Flour

Cocoa

Pastina

Tomato

rookrookrookrookrookROOK

vvvvvvviago TOGETHER

inbetweeninbetweeninbetween

Lucanis angrily crumbles the note up and stuffs it into his pocket. “Get out of my head.” He grumbles, and although there’s no response, Lucanis swears he can hear the demon laugh. He heads into the pantry for a moment of attempted privacy, leaning his forehead against the wood once the door is closed. He shuts his eyes, breathing in the scent of aged oak and lingering spices.

“For an assassin, you’re easy to sneak up on.” He jumps and quickly turns.

Rook sits at his desk, her feet resting on the bottom of the chair while she’s firmly planted on the table top. 

“Most people expect visitors from outside their bedroom, not inside.” Lucanis says, heading to his cot and sitting down, facing Rook.

“You’re not most people, though.” Rook responds, which makes Lucanis blanche in surprise. “Also, for an assassin, you lack subtlety.” Lucanis averts his gaze to anywhere in the room but Rook. She laughs, making Lucanis smile despite himself. He loves how her laugh rings clearly, unabashed in her joy. “Ask your questions. I know you have them.”

Lucanis sighs, leaning back against his bed and resting his head on the soft sheets. “So many.” Is his first response. Rook hums, much like Viago does, in acknowledgement. “Does Teia know?” Is his second.

“I’m not privy to what Viago shares with Teia about his life when they’re not together.” Rook chooses her words carefully. “But I haven’t had any conversations with her about our arrangement.”

“So Teia and him aren’t together right now?”

Rook laughs. “No, not right now. Though, you know them. That can change at any given moment.” Lucanis is quiet, his chest rising and falling steadily. He likes that Rook doesn’t attempt to fill silences.

“If they were together–”

“No. It’s one of our rules.” At this, Lucanis raises his head to look at Rook. “We have rules. For when we’re allowed to…” She waves her hand around. “If either of us are in a relationship it doesn’t happen.”

“It being…?”

“Sex, Lucanis.” Rook laughs as he looks away. “It might surprise you, but Viago and I do enjoy each other’s company without the added benefit of sex.” He chortles, which makes Rook roll her eyes.

“When did this start?” At this question, Rook looks up to the ceiling as though truly pondering it.

“Well, I had only heard about Viago before he became Fifth Talon. But we first met because of a contract, actually.” Rook cracks her knuckles. “We were on a mission, about six years ago; the client specifically paid for Viago to tag along on the job. And you know him.”

Lucanis nods. “He’s kind of…”

“A stick in the mud?” Rook laughs. “He wanted everything to go well. To prove himself to Caterina. So, we went to Orlais.” Lucanis props himself up on his elbows.

“Did you have to pretend to be a couple? And then everything that was fake turned real?” Rook leans over to shove Lucanis lightly on the shoulder.

“I didn’t know you were a romantic, Lucanis.” She shakes her head. “No, the job was terrible. It was raining the whole way there and back. The weather made for inclement traveling so we were stuck in Orlais for longer than we expected.” Rook rolls her shoulders, as though recalling the job is stressful enough. “And we missed the mark. Several times, actually.” At this, Lucanis laughs so hard his stomach begins to hurt.

“I cannot imagine Viago missing.”

“He can’t either. So, both of us were pretty unhappy. Unhappiness turns to anger, and both of us were way too prideful to admit our own shortcomings, so we became angry at each other.” Rook smiles. “Put two crows who hate each other and are constantly drenched to the bone in the same room for seven weeks…”

“...And they’re bound to have sex.” Lucanis finishes the thought. 

“Exactly. It became an outlet. And then, when we got back to Antiva…” Rook shrugs. “It became routine. Viago likes his sex in a very, very particular way. There’s not a lot of people who are willing to do what he asks.”

“May I ask…” Lucanis blushes. “How does Viago like his sex? Because it seemed…” Lucanis stops himself, realizing that they now have to talk about that night. “Focused.” Rook nods. 

“Viago is very tightly bound. About everything, even simple pleasures. Like wine and art.” She gets up to pace as she talks. “He desires control over every single aspect of his life. He usually doesn’t get it, because being an assassin means that he has control over everything except his own life. I desire to let go. To trust someone enough to completely dominate me for one night and come out okay. It’s a reciprocal relationship.” Lucanis rubs his beard.

“So I’m assuming the bickering is part of that?” Rook furrows her brow in thought.

“Yes, and no. We bicker because I think it’s funny to wind him up, and he thinks he’s allowed to say everything that comes into his head.” Rook seems to recall something and blushes. “But winding him up, making him mad and pressing his buttons, that is part of it.” 

Rook stops to stand in front of Lucanis. “Is that what he meant by ‘learning your lesson’?” Lucanis seems too shy to even speak the words. She just nods, with a wry smile. “I see. Well.” He rubs his hands together awkwardly. “Thank you for being honest.”

Neither of them speak at first. When Lucanis looks up, he finds Rook already looking at him. She uses her calf to bump his legs apart, spreading them wide and allowing her to take a step closer to him. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?” Her voice goes low, acknowledging the tension that's been here since they started chatting.

“I–I want to…” Lucanis seems to form several sentences all at the same time. Instead, he breaks the barrier between the two of them and plants both hands on Rook’s hips, looking up at her. “There’s so many things I want to say.” Rook nods, taking the opportunity to rake her fingers through his hair. The same way she did with Viago.

“Maybe it’s my turn for questions?” Lucanis nods eagerly, grateful that she understands his inability to explain himself. “Did you like what you saw last night?” Lucanis groans, leaning forward to press his forehead against Rook’s abdomen.

“Maker, yes.” 

“Did you like me, or Viago?” Lucanis sucks in a breath. He closes his eyes, his fear of Rook realizing his silly little crushes. Plural. “...Did you like both of us?” All he can do is nod. Rook laughs, but doesn’t move away. “I understand. Watching attractive people have sex can do that.” Another beat of silence, both of them listening to the gentle waves of the surrounding fade.

“Did you want to join?” The question barely comes out as a whisper but it’s enough to make Lucanis go crazy. His loins tighten from the sexual line of questioning, remembering every single moment where he wondered how things would go if he were there. “I figured. Viago told me about the time you sent him a dagger. Both of you are incapable of reading inbetween the lines, it seems.” Lucanis blushes, hard. “I have a proposal for you.” At this, his grip on her hips becomes stronger in anticipation.

“Viago will probably come by again in a couple days. You can stop by, see how things go. See if there’s anything you’re interested in.” Rook is quick to add on, “But no pressure, though. Do whatever you feel comfortable with, I don’t want you to–”

“Would you like me there? If I…stopped by?” Lucanis slides his hands up, roaming over Rook’s back. She sighs listlessly, leaning into his touch. Lucanis’ hands are different from Viago’s; rough calluses, fingernails bitten raw, his touch yearning instead of easy. It makes Rook’s heart hiccup, wondering how long he wanted, needed something like this.

“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure.” She says matter-of-factly. It takes a large amount of effort, but she untangles herself from him. “Let me talk to Viago. I can’t imagine he’d have any reservations.” She leans down and plants a chaste kiss onto Lucanis’ temple. When she turns to leave, Lucanis grabs her hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the knuckles he saw her kill with just a few hours ago.

“I await your call.”

Four days later, Lucanis paces around the library. It’s late, but time doesn’t mean much to him these days. He glances over at the charcuterie board he’s made, the wooden cutting board covered with brie, goat cheese, fontina, chocolate, and crackers. He looks up, towards Rook’s room, and his heart starts racing again like it did a few days ago. Is he really doing this? He could just leave, head back to the pantry, and forget this ever happened. Rook and Viago would continue on normally, like nothing ever happened, because they’re professionals. Lucanis supposed he was too, before all this. 

He picks up the tray and goes up the stairs, taking his time approaching Rook’s door to calm his nerves. When he looks down the hallway, he sees that she’s closed it this time. “Now they make me knock.” He sneers. As he gets closer, he can hear snippets of the conversation happening inside.

“I just think that…”

“Well, you usually…”

“...my fault?...”

Lucanis takes a slow breath out, completely emptying his lungs. This is real.

He knocks twice, a bit softly, and all conversation inside ceases. There’s some moving around, and a giggle that definitely belongs to Rook because Lucanis doesn’t think Viago has it in him to giggle before someone comes and opens the door. Lucanis thought Rook would have the grace to open the door herself.

She does not.

Viago’s in his casual wear, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he holds the door open at the top of the frame with one hand. “Lucanis.” He remarks, completely stone faced. Neither of the men say anything, but this close, Lucanis can smell Viago’s cologne. It’s more woody than Lucanis was expecting, with a lingering undertone of vanilla. 

“Viago.” Lucanis says. He holds up the charcuterie board, and Viago quirks an eyebrow. “I brought food.”

“I can see that.” The other man responds. Maker, this is awkward.

“Lucanis!” Rook remarks from inside the room, granting him entry despite Viago’s supposed disinterest. Did he not want him here?

“I brought food.” Lucanis repeats, and Rook smiles warmly. The chaise has a multitude of blankets spilling over it, and some pillows are on the floor too. The aquarium casts a deep blue light over everything, making Viago’s eyes seem black. Viago examines the board as Lucanis sets it down onto Rook’s table, next to his wine.

“Is that brie? And goat cheese?” The taller man questions. Lucanis shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Those pair well with pinot noir.” Viago adds, and again Lucanis shrugs.

“Rook mentioned it was your favorite.” She watches the two men talk with interest. Viago seems genuinely taken aback, picking up a cut of chocolate and brie, and then smelling it. Once he realizes that the heir apparent to First Talon gains nothing by poisoning him, he takes a bite.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Dellamorte?” Viago suddenly asks. Lucanis blushes, and looks away. He takes a moment to steel himself.

“That depends on if it’s working or not.” If he wanted, Lucanis could be suave. Perhaps he chooses not to. Viago doesn’t answer, but pours Lucanis a glass of wine and sits down on the floor near Rook. He motions to a cushion in between them.

“We were gossiping about other crows.” This is Lucanis’ last chance to leave and still have some semblance of normalcy with the two of them. He glances between them, noting how Viago loosens his collar and leans back on one arm. Rook’s smile is wide as she speaks to them, motioning excitedly at the latest news she’s heard about her fellow crows.

Lucanis cracks his neck, then sits down. He pretends not to notice how Rook’s smile widens. “Who were we talking about?” He takes a sip of wine, the warmth spreading down from his mouth all the way to his stomach. It’s dry, but the hints of fruit and acidity make up for it.

“Illario.” Viago grumbles, gesturing towards Rook. “She was recalling how they actually did meet once before, she just didn’t remember.” Lucanis turns towards Rook, who looks a bit bashful.

“You’ve met Illario?”

“Only once.” She responds, swirling her glass and taking a bite of cheese. “It was at a party, the Arainai one a decade ago. He looked so different!” She exclaims, and Lucanis chuckles.

“I believe that’s when he was curling his hair, correct?” Rook gasps and nods.

“Yes! Maker, it was awful. And he used so much product, I could smell him from a mile away. Everyone still followed him around, though.”

“Well, Illario has that effect on people.” Viago chimes in, leaning closer in towards Lucanis so that way he can fully take part in the conversation. “He could walk around in a potato sack and still get attention.” Rook laughs, snorting. 

“Viago, did you not use the same products in your hair?” Lucanis suddenly asks. Viago closes his eyes, his brow furrowing at Lucanis being able to recall something about him he’s pretty sure everyone else has forgotten.

“You did! I remember because it would take you hours to get ready when we were in Orlais!” The Orlais mission. Where this all began. Lucanis coughs as he tries to get the image of Viago and Rook together out of his head.

“My curls are natural.” Viago holds up a finger to both of them. “Illario faked them. It’s different.” Rook giggles so hard that she falls back onto the pile of blankets as Viago comes up with another defense. He’s passionate as he argues, gesturing wildly but never forgetting about the wine nor how he needs to take more sips of it. 

“If your curls are natural, then how come your hair is straight right now?” Rook asks, and Viago groans, bringing a hand to his forehead.

“Keeping it neat is good for appearances. As Fifth Talon, I can’t afford to appear messy.” Rook nods, but she remains unconvinced. 

“It is natural.” Lucanis chimes in, making Viago and Rook turn to him. Viago waves in Lucanis’ direction, moving in closer as he gets more and more heated.

“Well, I’ll believe Lucanis. But not you.” She sits up, propping herself up with one arm and leaning on her side.

“His hair gets curly when he sweats.” Lucanis adds, and this makes Viago pause in the middle of a bite. Rook says nothing, but smirks into her wine glass as the cogs churn in Viago’s head. “Not that I’m only looking at you when you sweat, it’s just–Maker, are we arguing about Viago’s hair?” Rook’s smile is easy, here. Perhaps with these two she can pretend to be just a crow, and not the leader of their small pack against the world.

“It’s a good head of hair.” Rook whispers, sitting up and moving closer to the men. There’s a distinct shift in the air, one that makes Lucanis put his wine glass down and pull away at his vest that suddenly feels too tight. Viago doesn’t initially respond, only taking another bite of cheese. She gasps. “Don’t I get a compliment?” It’s mocking him, but Viago allows himself to fall into the trap; he chuckles.

“What would you like to hear?” Viago asks, tilting his head and teasing her. Lucanis is a spectator to this dance they do, the push and pull of “will they, won’t they”. 

“Hmm…” Rook dramatically thinks, tapping her chin. “Don’t you think I’m funny?”

“Only when I’m laughing at you.”

Rook pouts. “Well, what about my charm?” 

Viago laughs. “That was actually funny.” 

Lucanis can’t help but smile at how Rook crawls even closer, shrinking the distance between the trio. “Surely you must like something about me.” Lucanis is completely enamored with her. He likes everything about Rook, but he’s not the one answering the question. When he looks at Viago, he’s shocked to find his expression has completely changed from when he first entered the room. His eyes are full of spark, his smile sideways as he carefully considers Rook’s flirting. Somewhere along the way, he’s even unbuttoned the top of his shirt, exposing a scant amount of chest hair that makes Lucanis’ stomach do somersaults. 

Viago moves a hand onto Rook’s thigh and pulls her closer, onto his lap. “I like your collarbones.” He finally answers. Rook rolls her eyes, but doesn’t move away as Viago’s hand slips under her shirt to expose his aforementioned favorite part of Rook. He ghosts his hand over her skin, and both of them notice how Rook shivers underneath his touch. “Lucanis, what is your favorite part of Rook?” 

An invitation to join. Lucanis seriously considers the question for a moment, but realizes Viago is giving him an in. He sits up and crawls behind Rook, between Viago’s legs. “I like her neck.” He simply answers, and Viago hums, nodding. Lucanis presses his palms into Rook’s trapezius muscles, noticing how she relaxes under the pressure and leans back into him.

“I’ve noticed.” Viago responds, smiling at how Lucanis gets nervous once he recalls their last visit to the Cantori Diamond. “It seems you have a knack for observation, Lucanis.” Viago leans forward, planting a kiss onto Rook’s chest, looking up to watch how her brows knit just so when his lips touch her. His eyes fall to Lucanis, pupils blown wide and hands massaging Rook. Viago pulls back, making her whine from the sudden cold. “Our safeword is saffron. Use it when you need to.” Viago says, and Lucanis nods. “Good. Now kiss.” He doesn’t ask, he commands.

Rook turns to look over her shoulder at Lucanis. Her lips are pursed and glossy, her shirt falling off of one shoulder. Lucanis has to hold himself back from absolutely devouring her completely. He hesitates, unsure what to do with his hands, but settles for cradling Rook’s face. He presses his lips to her’s, gently like they have all the time in the world. Rook is not surprised by Lucanis’ softness, allowing him to lead and take his time doing whatever he wants to do. Viago intently watches, studying how Lucanis seems to shake a little when Rook places a hand on his arm. He can feel Rook’s core heating up in his lap, how her hips buck whenever Viago shifts underneath her and his erection rubs against her thigh. 

Viago unexpectedly moves his hands to Rook’s waist, rubbing affectionately and steadying her, making her moan into Lucanis’ kiss; it’s enough to completely break him. He removes his hands only for a moment to rip off his vest, but his lips never leave her’s. Rook takes a risk, and opens her mouth slightly allowing Lucanis in. He accepts the offer, fervently and needily, their tongues moving with each other and becoming more desperate by the second. Without opening her eyes, Rook uses her free hand to grab Viago by the shirt and pull him up, mere inches away from Lucanis’ face. Rook, sandwiched between the two men, tilts her head away from them. “Your turn.” Her voice is hoarse. Lucanis looks at Viago, whose harsh stare stokes the fire inside him even more. When his brown, doe eyes flick between Viago’s lips and hard glare, unable to be the one who makes the first move, Viago shakes his head before diving in.

Viago kisses like it might be his last night alive. He takes instead of gives, keeping one hand on Rook’s waist and moving the other to the back of Lucanis’ neck to pull him closer. One of them groans, Rook isn’t sure who, but it’s enough to make her roll her hips against Viago and her backside against Lucanis. Lucanis shudders when Viago presses his tongue into his mouth, unapologetic in getting what he wants. Rook unbuttons Viago’s shirt for him, her hands roving over his hard chest as he breathes in Lucanis like he’s his only source of air. When they break apart, it’s only so Lucanis can do the same, exposing his abdomen and how the hair that covers his muscles travels down, to his happy trail, and then disappears under his trousers. 

Viago and Rook take the opportunity to get reacquainted with each other, her arms stretching over his shoulders as he turns his attention to her. Their kiss is immediately all passion, tongue, and teeth; Rook even bites his lip, making Viago’s brow furrow. Lucanis watches as Rook wraps her legs around Viago’s waist, how his large hands grab onto her back. He begins to palm himself through his pants, his thighs tightening from the slight pressure. Viago peels Rook’s shirt off, exposing her naked chest, and he tilts his head, frowning. “No bra?” Rook shrugs.

“I always get what I want.” When she looks at Lucanis, her smile is deadly. “Stand up. Both of you.” Viago huffs, not used to being the one that takes orders, but obliges her. Rook kneels in front of them and uses both hands to stroke their clothed erections, making them tense. Viago takes her hand off of him, and whips his belt off, shimmying out of his pants and briefs in one fell swoop. He’s already leaking pre-cum, his tip red from the lack of stimulation.

“Stop teasing.” He tangles his hand into Rook’s hair, pulling her face towards his cock. Viago uses his hand to push her back and forth, occasionally making Rook gag as he hits the back of her throat. Lucanis slowly strips, distracted by the two of them completely. Once he’s naked, he guides Rook’s hand to him, gasping as she grips onto him. While she swirls her tongue around Viago, she pumps her hand over Lucanis, using her thumb to swipe over his tip occasionally just so she can hear how he whines. Viago steals a glance over at Lucanis, watching how his stomach flexes with every stroke from Rook. To his credit, he allows Rook to come up for air. 

She turns her attention to Lucanis, raising her eyes to his as she slowly takes him entirely into her mouth. He stretches one hand behind his head, every muscle in his arm contorting. He notices how Viago hisses in pleasure at this, and breathlessly laughs. “Are you a fan of my arms, Viago?” Rook flattens her tongue, licking a long strip from Lucanis’ balls to his tip. 

“I’m a fan of watching a beautiful woman go down on a beautiful man. The muscles are a nice side benefit.” Lucanis can’t deny that he blushes at the compliment, still shy in spite of his current station. He uses his other hand to brush Rook’s hair out of her face, holding the few strands that stick back with a loose grip. Rook nods, out of appreciation or arousal Lucanis can’t tell. With a satisfied sigh, she pulls away, Lucanis grunting at the sudden lack of warmth. But ever the gentleman, he offers a strong grip when Rook decides to stand. Wordlessly, she moves past the men and sits on the small bed, slipping out of her pajama pants along the way.

She spreads her legs, using her index and middle finger to spread her lips too, giving them a full view of their very near future. Lucanis bites his knuckles to stifle the noise that escapes him. “I want to watch Lucanis try.” She dips a finger in between her folds, bucking at the stimulation. 

Lucanis aims to please; he turns to Viago and gets on his knees, practically drooling at his length. “He can certainly try.” Viago drawls, running his fingers through Lucanis’ mullet. “I won’t play nice, though.” Viago grabs himself and pumps a couple times. “Open.” He commands. Lucanis tentatively agrees, sticking his tongue out; Viago slaps his tip in Lucanis’ mouth, smearing pre-cum onto his lips. He thrusts shallowly into Lucanis’ mouth, allowing him to adjust to his size. Lucanis doesn’t think he’s ever been as hard as he is right now, but knowing Viago he denies himself the pleasure of masturbation. Instead, he rests his arms on his thighs, arching his back for a better angle. 

“He follows instructions well.” Viago pulls Lucanis’ head back, forcing him to look up at the man. Lucanis chokes at the new angle, Viago hitting the top of his throat and momentarily cutting off his air. “Just a bit longer. You can do that, right?” Lucanis nods eagerly, spit dripping out of his mouth and tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Good boy.” 

Rook isn’t even touching herself anymore, just enjoying the show these two are putting on. She watches in awe as Lucanic copies her, circling Viago’s tip with his tongue and even flicking the sensitive slit. Viago’s stomach clenches, twitching into Lucanis’ mouth. “Just like that–doing such a good job.”

“You know, I think you’re nicer to him than me.” Viago laughs at Rook’s remark, sliding an eye open to the woman on the couch.

“Because I don’t have to worry about Lucanis the moment he leaves Treviso.” Rook stands, moving behind Viago to try and gain some semblance of his point of view. She slides her hands over his abs, tickling him as they settle where his thighs and stomach meet. The touch makes Viago thrust harshly into Lucanis’ mouth.

“You worry about me?” Rook murmurs against his skin, using one hand to join Lucanis in pleasing Viago. She grips the base of his arousal, lewdly spitting onto her palm and rubbing, occasionally dipping her fingers underneath to tease him. The added help allows Lucanis to focus on Viago’s head, where he’s the most sensitive. Viago’s jaw clenches at the sensation, his hands tangled in Lucanis’ hair flexing with every move from the man beneath him and the woman behind him.

“In my own way.” Viago admits, rolling his eyes at how he can feel Rook smile against him. “If you actually completed any contracts, I wouldn’t have to–” He falters when Rook slaps his tip against Lucanis’ tongue the way he did. 

“You talk too much.” Rook lets go of Viago, moving to stand over Lucanis as well. He glances up at Rook, his eyes grazing over her naked form so he can remember each curve and dip. He’s unsure if this will happen again, if Rook would ever want him without the added benefit of Viago. Would she give this up just to have him, entirely and by himself? He moves without warning, shifting his body to kneel in front of Rook instead, resting his chin against her and bringing a hand up in between her thighs. He dips a finger into her folds carefully, unsure of what exactly to do but hoping that his adoration for her will outshine his lack of experience.

Rook gasps at the sudden touch, her arousal coating Lucanis’ fingers. He’s careful yet curious, watching how her mouth forms an “O” shape at certain places, or how her little gasps turn to moans when he places just the right amount of pressure in other places. He presses his thumb against her clitoris, making Rook keen over and grip his face, pulling his mouth closer to where his fingers dexterously work. “Lucanis, please.” She moans, his name on her lips making his heart soar.

“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure.” He mumbles, dipping his mouth between her legs and tentatively taking a taste of Rook. It’s everything that he dreamed of, the way her fingers pull his hair, how her legs tremble around his face, how her eyes tighten close when Lucanis laps at her sex. Lucanis grips her thigh and lifts it, draping her leg over his shoulder and granting him further access. Unconsciously, Rook starts grinding on his face, his beard and mustache rubbing against the inside of her thighs softly. He takes a risk and moves his tongue lower to her entrance, teasing the inside of her hole with his mouth. Rook bucks even harder, chanting Lucanis’ name like how he used to chant the Maker’s in the Ossuary.

Lucanis has made the unfortunate mistake of letting Viago out of his sight. He’s unsure when, but the other man has crouched down behind Lucanis on his knees as well. He feels Viago’s long fingers trail the expanse of his back as his mouth latches onto Rook’s clit. Viago’s hands travel lower, then lower, until they’re cupping Lucanis’ ass. Lucanis’ brow furrows in pleasure when Viago spanks him, hard. Viago rubs the red, hand shaped welt beginning to form on Lucanis appreciatively before he moves in between Lucanis’ legs. He spits on his index and middle finger, creating some form of lubrication for Lucanis because Viago knows the man will need it.

With a surprising amount of care, Viago circles Lucanis’ hole. Lucanis isn’t unfamiliar with the sensation, but it’s another thing entirely for Viago to be the one performing this on him. Lucanis arches his back at the pleasure, pushing himself further between Rook’s legs. Viago takes things slowly, only rubbing the rim and adding a very small amount of pressure when Lucanis presses back against his fingers. The stimulation makes Lucanis moan wildly into Rook’s pussy, those vibrations in turn driving Rook even crazier. “Tell me if it’s too much.” Viago whispers, leaning over Lucanis and kissing his shoulder.

With as much restraint as he can muster, Viago pushes a finger inside of Lucanis. It’s enough to make Lucanis pull his mouth away from Rook and start kissing her thighs, the pleasure from both ends almost being too much for him. Viago winces against Lucanis’ skin, the tightness almost being enough to drive Viago to the edge and fuck him right now. Rook pets Lucanis’ hair lovingly, her touch enough to calm him down and focus on how the pain slowly ebbs into just pleasure. Viago works Lucanis’ hole for a while, giving him time to adjust to the idea of being filled, his tongue and teeth lapping at Lucanis’ neck. 

Lucanis returns his attention back to Rook, his passion for learning how to eat her out reignited by Viago’s fingers. The tip of his tongue circles her clitoris, noting how Rook enjoys more attention to the bundle of nerves than she does to any other part of her anatomy. She sighs with relief when Lucanis follows Viago’s guidance and drives a finger inside of Rook, his mouth still working her outer folds. Viago adds another finger inside of Lucanis, stretching the man to prepare him for the inevitable. It takes everything within Lucanis to relax and loosen up, as he expected this would happen, but actually having to practice to take Viago wholly is a different beast.

Viago’s pace quickens, the tension within Lucanis’ loins making his chest heave under the pressure of his impending orgasm. Rook is clearly close too, her hips snapping as she starts to fuck Lucanis’ face to chase her release. Lucanis relents, sticking his tongue out so Rook can use him however she wants. His nose bumps against her clit, and when Lucanis is finally able to open his eyes since Viago started fingering him, the sight of Rook is almost enough to push him completely over the edge. She’s sticky with sweat, her hands steadying Lucanis to give her more leverage and her nails digging into his scalp. Her pupils are blown out from arousal, making her eyes appear almost black. Her attention is entirely on Lucanis, the way he looks underneath her, how he moans partially from his own pleasure but also from her’s. “Lucanis, I’m so close–”

And just like that, Viago pulls out completely from Lucanis. The lack of stimulation makes Lucanis groan in frustration, turning around to glower at Viago. Rook, also denied of her orgasm, glares at Viago. While the looks from both assassins could probably kill most people, Viago is not most people. “Rook, lay down.” He commands, standing up briefly to grab a condom from her bedside table. She obeys him, grabbing a cushion and placing it underneath her lower back. Lucanis has yet to move, and with this view of Rook, he’s not sure he’ll ever want to leave. She instinctively wraps her legs around Lucanis’ hips, their two cores at the same height. He remembers something Viago did when he watched, and lowers his cock to Rook’s heat, slowly rubbing the shaft in between her lips. She squirms, her ankles latching together against Lucanis’ back. He presses his tip to her clit, adding just enough pressure to not completely slip inside, but enough so Rook’s back arches off the ground and her hands fly to Lucanis’ arms.

Viago rejoins them, slotting himself behind Lucanis between his legs while he slides the condom on. Lucanis moves to stand to grab one himself, but Rook stops him. “Don’t worry. Viago’s just a clean freak about certain…” She turns her head to the side. “Holes.” Lucanis blushes with understanding, and continues rutting against Rook. Her nails leave marks in his flesh, and she groans in anger. “Any day now, Viago!” He looks over Lucanis’ shoulder and tuts at Rook.

“So desperate.” Is all he says while removing Lucanis’ hand from his own cock. Viago grabs Lucanis’ member, now rubbing it against Rook. “May I?” He asks, and Lucanis enthusiastically nods. Viago guides Lucanis to Rook’s entrance, sinking Lucanis into her walls at an agonizing pace. Lucanis and Rook moan at the same time, his palms gripping her thighs just to pull her against him even more. 

He’s never felt this before, and although it’s probably obvious to Rook and Viago, they’re gracious enough to not say anything as he bites his bottom lip to hold the moans that threaten to spill out of his mouth and closes his eyes in fear of ejaculating early. It’s hot, hotter than his hand during the late nights spent in the Lighthouse where he’d lay there and think of Rook in this exact position just to get a few hours of rest. And tight, tighter than his collar when he’d look at Viago all those years ago across a banquet table and find his hard stare already fixed onto Lucanis. “Gracias a Hacedor–” The Spanish tumbles out from Lucanis before he realizes, his babbling more incoherent the deeper Viago moves Lucanis inside.

When he’s fully sheathed in Rook, her thighs plush against his, he stills for a moment, his brow knit in an emotion unreadable by Viago or Rook. He breathes in through his nose, out his mouth, Viago letting go of Lucanis and moving back behind him. “Lucanis? You okay?” Rook asks, worried.

“Yes.” Lucanis still has not opened his eyes.

“Are you sure? We can stop–”

“Please, no.” Lucanis whines. Viago chuckles from behind him.

“Is it everything you imagined, Lucanis?” Viago whispers into his ear, his own cock prodding against Lucanis. 

“It’s–” Lucanis gulps, every twitch of his body sending shocks down his spine. “It’s better. So much better.” Rook shifts underneath him, her own arousal mounting along with Lucanis’. 

“Rook usually likes to hear how good she feels.” Viago’s breath against Lucanis’ ear has him spinning, but he’s still grounded enough to catch the obvious hint. Lucanis cautiously opens one eye, then the other, returning to the situation at hand. He looks at where their two bodies meet, his shaft disappearing inside her, and almost comes right there. His eyes roam over Rook’s body, memorizing how she looks underneath him now, how her lips tremble at the smallest movement from Lucanis. Moving a hand to her face, he strokes her cheek with his thumb and brushes some of her hair out of the way. She smiles up at him, small and soft, like even now she’s afraid that he won’t like what he sees. Or maybe it’s that, in this moment, she sees Lucanis for who he is completely and won’t look away, despite everything.

“You’re beautiful.” Lucanis says, ignoring how absolutely wonderful she feels wrapped around him. Rook glances away, tilting her head as though her beauty and grace are something to be ashamed of. Gently, Lucanis uses his thumb to guide her gaze back to his, and he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. “May I?” Lucanis asks for permission to move. Rook nods, her hands moving to his and intertwining their fingers together.

When Lucanis first pulls out and thrusts inside her, he’s almost certain he won’t last longer than two minutes. He’s unsure how he’ll live without this for the rest of his life, Rook’s whines and gasps making his head spin. His hips slap against her’s, trying to find a comfortable rhythm that won’t make him come without warning. “Don’t start without me.” Viago grumbles, lining himself up with Lucanis’ entrance and finding a grip on Lucanis’ hips. Lucanis stills once again, completely inside Rook, knowing that if he was moving while Viago first pressed inside him he would surely release his arousal in mere seconds.

Viago’s tip presses against Lucanis’ hole, and he slowly moves past Lucanis’ rim to his warm insides. Both men let out guttural moans, Lucanis more so, Viago taking as much time as he wants to completely fill the other man. Lucanis’ hands tighten within Rook’s, squeezing her so hard that her fingertips turn red for a moment. “So good, so good for me…” Viago mumbles, beginning to move back and forth inside Lucanis. While Lucanis has more girth than Viago, Viago is long, longer than anything Lucanis has ever put inside himself. His thrusts push and pull Lucanis inside Rook, doing all the work for him, the overstimulation almost too much for Lucanis. 

Viago finds a rhythm more quickly than Lucanis, the experienced man laughing at the state of the one sandwiched between him and Rook. “Can’t take it Lucanis? You can always tap out, you know. Settle for watching, like you usually do.” The challenge is enough to make Lucanis rise to the occasion. He matches Viago’s tempo, the sound of skin slapping skin almost drowning out how all three moan lewdly. Viago takes control, angling his hips up to hit Lucanis’ prostate, attempting to break Lucanis’ concentration on not coming. Lucanis cusses, out of arousal and anger.

“You’re not–not being fair.” He whines, pressing his face into the crook of Rook’s neck and biting down. She gasps, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close.

“Hard to be, when you look like this.” Viago traces Lucanis’ back muscles, watching how they go taunt with every touch. He briefly interlocks his hand with Rook, squeezing her palm in appreciation before increasing his speed. “How does it feel, Lucanis? Use your words.” Lucanis is silent, the only thoughts he’s able to comprehend fully being Rook and Viago, earning another spank from Viago. He pulls up, away from Rook, leaning against Viago’s chest and tilting his head to make eye contact with him.

“Incredible. You–She–Both of you feel incredible.” Viago looks down at Rook, raising an eyebrow, asking if she deems his answer acceptable or not. She smiles and nods, lifting her legs so that her feet rest on Lucanis’ shoulder. Viago is relentless; he kisses Lucanis, his tongue moving in tandem with his and growling when Lucanis moans into his mouth. Rook reaches a hand down between her own legs and stimulates herself, her core tightening in pleasure not only at the sight of Viago and Lucanis but also at how her fingers rub against her clitoris perfectly. Lucanis stutters at the new sensation, breaking the kiss to moan her name. “I’m…I’m close–”

“Just a little longer, Lucanis.” Viago’s teeth are gritted, his own orgasm now imminent as well.

“I can’t–” Lucanis’ hips stutter again. He starts to imagine how it’d feel to completely empty himself inside of Rook, what it looked like when Viago did the same, how he said he’d breed her–

Viago pulls out completely. Lucanis gasps at the sudden feeling of emptiness, how it’s almost painful, and stills inside of Rook. Viago uses his strength to pull Lucanis out of her, and stands over the other two, taking the condom off. Maker, if this is what Rook went through every time she had sex with him, Lucanis could see why she was hell bent on annoying the shit out of him everywhere else. Tears form in the corner of his eyes, his cock being so sensitive from his two denied orgasms that it hurts. “Lucanis, lay down.” If Viago feels bad, he certainly doesn’t let it show. Rook wipes Lucanis’ tears away, sympathetic to his plight, and helps him lay down on the chaise. Viago grabs another condom and slides it on while Rook shifts on top of Lucanis, resting on his upper thigh to give him more time to rest. 

No one speaks, but they move as one, Viago coming up behind Rook much like he did with Lucanis, and picking her hips up so that her core rests on top of Lucanis’ member. She gasps with Lucanis, his hands coming up to grab at anything, eventually finding her thighs. Rook and Viago look down at him, watching as she raises her hips and tantalizingly lowers herself onto Lucanis, his moans increasing in volume as he finds himself back inside of her. Lucanis’ eyes flit between the two of them, how Viago kisses Rook’s neck, how his hands grab her breasts from behind. Viago licks a long strip from her shoulder to her neck, making Rook shudder. 

Maker, this is addicting. They’re addicting.

Rook bounces on top of him, the sounds from where their bodies meet so obscene that Lucanis blushes at the idea of anyone walking by her room at this hour. She leans down and kisses Lucanis, her whimpers against his lips making him grunt in anticipation of his orgasm. He wraps his arms around her and begins to pound up, taking control for the first time since the night began. Rook wails in surprise, biting down onto Lucanis’ lip so hard she draws blood. 

Viago presses against her other entrance, only giving a few seconds of warning before he sheathes himself inside of her completely in one motion. It’s enough to knock the air out of her, her arms tightening around Lucanis’ neck for support as she puts her entire weight onto him. Viago would never admit it, but he’s as sensitive right now as the other two are. The way his cock feels inside Rook, how he can feel Lucanis move in and out of her, how Lucanis’ and Rook’s lips move against each other sloppily is almost enough to make him come right now. He holds onto the last shred of his self control, his hands gripping onto Rook’s ass and spreading her cheeks apart to get a better look. He makes a noise in between a chuckle and a moan, watching how Lucanis’ and his cocks move in tandem with each other, one pulling out while the other pushes in.

“How are you feeling, Viago?” Lucanis mutters, breaking his kiss with Rook briefly to speak. Viago’s eyes roam up the expanse of Rook’s back to Lucanis’ face, where he sees a string of spit connecting the two of them. Lucanis’ lips are red and glossy, his entire face scrunched up in concentration. Viago laughs at Lucanis’ question, the tables now turned on him as he struggles to find the words.

“Never better.” Is his response, each word punctuated by a particularly hard thrust. “Rook? You okay?” He asks. She doesn’t speak, merely groaning in affirmation against Lucanis’ shoulder. Viago decides to let it slide for now. All of his thoughts are dominated by this moment: the sound of their bodies moving against each other, the taste of Rook and Lucanis’ lips against his, the feeling of Rook’s body being able to take both of them. Lucanis seems to be a natural at this, his hands finding Rook’s hips once again and moving them for her when she can’t. She is completely fucked out of her mind, which is exactly where Viago wants her. “Perfect.” He whispers, low enough that even Lucanis can’t hear.

It’s only a few more thrusts from both of them when Rook chimes in. “I’m gonna–” She pauses when Lucanis winces in pleasure, her voice enough to bring him to completion. “–Gonna come.” Viago pushes his hair out of his face before leaning down over the other two. The motion presses his cock inside of her against Lucanis’, whose eyes roll into the back of his head.

“I’m close too.” He stammers out, nerves almost getting the better of him when Viago’s hard stare flicks to him. “Please, Viago…” His heart flips when he remembers how Rook said the exact same thing just a couple days ago. It feels like a lifetime ago now. Viago considers the both of them, his abdomen tensing as he also comes close to the edge. While he could go at this for hours, unfortunately for all three of them they have lives to return to. He moves his lips mere inches away from Lucanis’, teasing him with the promise of a kiss. 

“Come for me.” He murmurs, pressing his mouth against Lucanis’ as the other two practically sigh in relief, finally being allowed to orgasm. The way Viago grunts into Lucanis’ mouth is enough to tip him over, spilling himself into Rook’s messy cunt. The feeling of Lucanis’ seed being released in her makes Rook clench hard around the both of them, her orgasm washing over her in waves. Her thighs tremble as Lucanis continues to fuck her through his own orgasm, ensuring nothing is wasted. Viago is the last to finish, pressing a final harsh thrust into her as he comes. Lucanis’ tongue moves with Viago’s, his cock still shallowly thrusting into her as her release starts to subside. 

There’s a long, long break before anyone moves. Viago pulls out, careful not to hurt Rook, pressing a kiss against her ear. “You were perfect. An absolute dream.” He mutters, tasting the sweat that sticks to her body. Lucanis picks Rook up for a moment, only to also pull out, before setting her down gently on top of him. The only thing he can hear is Rook’s breath against his neck, and her heart beating against his chest. It hammers loudly although her breathing is slowed, a cheap shot at calming her entire body down so that way she’ll be able to actually stand tomorrow morning. Lucanis’ hands stroke through her hair, pulling her so close that their bodies could almost meld into one.

Viago bends down, pressing his knee into the chaise, and spreads Rook’s legs, using his thumb to slip inside her vagina and groaning a long chain of curses when Lucanis’ cum drips out of her. Rook jumps at his touch, still sensitive after being rutted against by the two of them. When Viago removes his fingers from inside her, Rook sighs in relief, but cries out once more when Viago attaches his mouth to her core instead. His tongue digs inside her, pulling more of Lucanis’ seed out of her and into his mouth.

She pushes herself up onto her hands and arches her back, moaning deliciously while Viago grips her backside and spreads her even more. While he grunts into her, his mouth against her wet cunt creates such crass sounds that Lucanis breathlessly laughs in equal parts embarrassment but also arousal. Viago swallows everything he can get, uncaring whether it came from Rook or Lucanis. He laps at her outer folds, his mouth sucking on her sensitive bud and forcing Rook to cover her mouth so she doesn’t scream.

Finally, Viago relents, pulling his mouth away from her core with a satisfying pop. Lucanis gazes at him in amazement, the other man standing over the two and his icy stare meeting Lucanis’ wide eyed face. He notices how some of Lucanis’ release drips down his own chin; and without breaking eye contact, swipes his thumb across his face and licks, swallowing deeply. Lucanis’ cock jumps at the mere sight of Viago consuming a part of him, all while Rook’s body presses against him in all the right places.

Lucanis brings a weary hand to his face and rubs his eyes, sighing. “You’re going to kill me.” Again, he’s unsure who exactly he’s speaking to.

[valentine-cafe]

. ˚◞♡ switch antihero x switch villain male reader  ꒰ kinktober: hate-fucking ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 781 alessio / switch villain male reader ꒱ you and the mercenary have quite the history together. from intense fights to hours of heated fucking. a constant fight for dominance. one night, you decide to steal him away to your base in an attempt to get back at him for 'last time' 

𖹭. content warnings◞  explicit content . sooo much switching . degredation . dumbification . hand job . fingering . dirty talk . penetrative sex . bondage . creampie . multiple orgasms . 5.4k

𖹭. receipts◞  had to sacrifice my first born child for this but nevertheless hope you enjoy!

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

“Not every day I find myself a cute little mercenary.”

The roll of his emerald eyes only brings a chuckle from your lips. That’s rare. The mere idea of annoying him brought shivers of excitement over your skin as you duck your head closer to his restrained form.

Indeed, to get your hands on The Reaper - or as you know him, Alessio Arias, is quite the impressive feat. Even more so to have him bound and helpless in a chair. The sight urges your tongue to wet your lips.

His brow raises. You can already see that smirk at the corner of his lips — if it weren’t for his black half-mask concealing it. While you might wish to rid him of it, a part of you finds it ever as attractive to keep him fully geared. Would feed into the humiliation of it all. Wouldn’t it?

“Getting a bit too excited over there?”

Perhaps you should curse the fact that you neglected to restrain his legs fully. Damn him - all manspread and simply showing off like that. It made it difficult to beat the allegations of your. . . arrangement.

“Can you blame me?” No, no one could. Not even when you swing a leg over and settle into his lap. Hands reaching out for the backrest of the chair so that you might crane over him. In turn, he is such a doll to lean his head back so that you have the perfect view of his face. His exposed neck that thrums a pulse you oh so wish to sink your teeth into.

You cannot help but cup at his face. He’s too pretty to be your enemy. And you are simply too obsessed with him to pretend as though you are his.

Pretend? No. You aren’t pretending.

This whole shtick is what makes it all the more fun.

The click of his tongue is what brings you out of your mini swirl of fantasies. “If you needed a good fucking s’bad you could have just called me up, querido.” His croon is less than affectionate.

Still, you bite your lip and muse in turn. “Who said anything about fucking me? Maybe I just wanna get back for last time.”

You dare to roll your hips. Slowly. Tantalising. In a way that will nurse that bulge in his black leather pants that you already anticipate. It never takes long to get him up and going — that’s the difference between your lovely enemy and the other eyesores you’ve brought to bed.

Not that you would admit that to him, however.

“Aww but your pretty little ass certainly wasn’t complaining when I stuffed it full last time.” He doesn’t hide his groan when your hips begin to move into his. Neither does he attempt to grind back, however. “Always begs for it. Try to act as tough as you want - we both know you’re already clenching round nothin’. Slut.”

His words spark irritation through your entire form. Even more so when you imagine that stupid grin behind his mask. If there is another thing that Alessio is good at - it is getting on every last one of your nerves. So much so that you discard the whole grinding agenda and immediately set sails at fumbling with his jean’s front button and zipper.

“Yeah?” Your face cranes closer. The only downside to that damned mask is that you do not have the ability to shut him up with your lips. It swells more irritation in your abdomen. Yet - that all bubbles away at the sight of his already, blatantly hard cock in the bulge of his boxers.

“I’m the slut?”

Your fingers stroke along the curve of fabric. You bite on your grin at the sound of his low groan. The sight of his throat which bobs with effort to keep his noises on the low. Restraints scratch into the chair and the sound reverberates through your base. It follows your short snort of laughter as your nails hook into the hem of his boxers and drag it down.

“Would you look at that.” The tut that falls from your lips is nothing short of mocking. And so you swipe your tongue to sate yourself of the need that dries your mouth. Your hand wastes no time. It wraps around his pulsating cock and gives it a little squeeze.

Oh, what a delicious sound he makes.

Alessio throws his head back. Dark hair tousles and dangles. Thick lashes flutter and at last, his hips steer into yours. In a stuttered buck that is enough to have you chuckling.

“Yeah. Slut.” Your hand makes a small, jerky motion that has a grunt of similar nature vibrate from his throat. The vein on his underside throbs against your palm and it’s enough incentive to flush your hand along the sensitive skin and rub with purpose.

The man swallows down the lump of pleasure that forms in his throat, mixed with agitation and the slightest of need. Which he denies heavily. You deserve to know nothing of what he’s thinking nor what he wants.

. . . What is the point though? You already know. You always know.

“H-ahh,” he breathes out, you anticipate his attempted words to be the usual ones of sass and clapbacks. And you are ever right. You roll your eyes as the man, despite the heavy strain. At the linger of a moan that threatens to come forth.

“Fanculo a te. Tu — tu mi guardi sempre. I tuoi occhi mi implorano di scoparti. E sono io la puttana? F-nnhgh.” ( Fuck you. You... you always look at me. Your eyes beg me to fuck you. And I'm the whore? )

Any further comment on your behaviour vanishes, as your fingers wrap to squeeze around his cock, hard. Pushing your finger down the one vein and moving it upwards.

With a slight twist of your hand. While keeping your thumb in place. A pace begins to build, and quick enough that previously restrained moans all flutter out of his throat. What a symphony swirls around the room. What a creation of such splendid music, is his voice.

With each moan that falls from his lips, it gets harder to ignore the tightness in your own pants. The bulge grows quite obvious. Oh, what it took to keep your hand moving around his cock and not simply switch places and shove his face into your crotch. You weren’t too sure. But the will was strong enough.

Perhaps it was spite.

Spite from all of the time he has berated you and called you a desperate whore. He’s the desperate whore, it is something he has been since the time you met him.

A swipe of your thumb across his tip. You breathe out quietly. The digit moves across the soft tip to smear the precum out on it. Only to press down on the slit and spread a smile of delight on your face.

“Awwww, pobrecito- was that too much?” The croon echoes into the room, but you, with your merciless heart. Keep working your hand roughly at the twitching dick in its hold. All attention honed on him. On his whines. His desperation. Those bucking his hips and cusses he throws at you.

“Hhhah— Ngh- shut-th- — Shut the f—fuhhngh.” Well, that certainly was an attempt.

An attempt that calls your cackle, while shivers rush up and down his spine. If there is one thing he despises more than the fact you make him feel all sorts of pleasure. It is the fact that your laughter is so very addicting.

It didn’t matter in what the laughter directs to. Your laughter is beautiful and he gas wished many times before to sit and just listen to it for fucking hours. He hates it.

It is rare indeed to make The Reaper break into a sweat. Yet here you are, as he ever so slowly began to reach his orgasm. All because you kept going so slow.

A loud groan emits from his throat at the pace. It felt too fucking good to be this slow. Your hand makes shallow jerks against his dick, and then slowly moves its way up to the tip with long strokes.

“Fuck- Hurr- Hgnh ahngh, Hurry it up.”

The audacity to gasp at the demand that you are given. His brows furrow as you look almost offended. “You truly are an absolute whore, aren’t you. Arias?” You chuckle. Squeeze a bit harder than before and watch as a jolt shakes straight through him. Hips bucking in desperation while his fingers drag along the palms of his hand.

If only you’d noticed that the binds had fallen off long ago. But he liked to play these games. Wondering what he’d get out of it.

“Repeat it hm?” The frustrated demand from you spits towards him and earns the smallest of chuckle. The nerve of this man.

“Hurry. it. up.” He groans and bucks his hips once more.

So close, he’s so close. Just a bit more. Fuck if you think he’s a whore, he’ll get back at you.

And as though his prayers are answered. With the spite and need to have him back at his quivers and whines. You dig your thumb against his tip and rub a few tight, merciless circles. Before you are at it again. Quick, tempered pumps and jerks to his spasming dick.

“So fucking demanding. I’ve got you bound and whimpering - yet you have the nerve.”

A swell of spit aims at the head of his cock. One that your thumb catches and swirls around the sensitive bundle of nerves. As if you need any more lubricant with the way he spills precum like a fountain. The messy action, however, bursts a tremble of a moan from his throat. A series of pants and needy bucks follow close behind.

You are unsure of the slew that leaves his swollen lips. Whether they be begs or a string of curses - maybe both. All you can focus on is the warm feeling that spills onto your hand. The surge of pride through every fibre of your body.

Still, you glance down to view the fruits of your labour. The beautiful sight of his cum shooting thick, sticky strings all over your palm. A mess to both himself and you. One that sparks a wide grin to your lips.

“As I said earlier.” Your croon meets his ear as you dare to give a few more pumps to his twitching dick. Kisses pepper against his reddened ear. Another badge to your pride. All while you murmur in a way that you know he’ll make you pay for if he were not restrained at this very moment.

“Slut.”

A flick to his tip. Like the cherry on top. You would be a liar if you say that it is not a sight for sore eyes. One that moves your muscles and urges you to change position immediately.

Your knees find the floor right before his chair. Hands still eagerly cup around the clearly pulsating cock. Your grin only widens at the strained pant that he lets out. To add onto your satisfaction - you’ll tell yourself that he is trying his utmost hardest to not spill all over your grasp once more.

“Might as well have a taste while I’ve got you like this, eh?”

Your thumb nurses at your favourite vein. The groan he releases. The way his head hangs back. Oh, it should be a sin.

Lashes kiss at your cheeks as you shut your eyes to savour the taste of his cum that still stains your tongue. The taste that you think of an embarrassing amount of times when you should be working on your latest schemes in the middle of the night.

And yet -

To your displeasure. The taste remains a fantasy.

All you can let out is a yelp at the skid of the chair. A pressure circles your wrists and you meet the cold surface of metal before you can even so much as shoot your eyes open. Restrains especially designed for your beloved enemy now clamp around you instead.

Bound. To the very seat you so proudly hoisted him onto.

With that damned grin right above you.

“Might wanna work on your restraints next time, hermoso.”

Leather bites into your skin as a gloved hand grips at your jaw. Tight. It wrenches your head back so that your body is forced to arch at the back. Suddenly, you really regret not installing those leg restraints. For the way in which he stands between your thighs halts any motion to squeeze your legs shut.

A mechanical chime fills your ears when he presses at a button behind his jaw. The mask dissipates to reveal that stupidly handsome face you have longed for night after night. Longed to kiss. Longed to fuck to tears.

Of course the bastard is grinning. Who wouldn’t when they now have the switch on their enemy?

“Oh and you were so fuckin’ confident -” Alessio huffs a laugh. His head dips low and for the first time tonight - you taste the sweetness of his lips. Tinted with a flavour of coffee and cigarettes that you love so much. To have his lipstick stains on yours should be considered a blessing.

Alas, you are a bit too sour to care. A bit too wounded in pride at the realisation that you restraints failed.

“Fuck o- ah,”

You should have expected him to immediately stick a hand down your pants. Stroke at your own dick that has been begging for attention since you slipped into his lap.

Your lips press together as the mercenary wastes no time in undoing the fabric. A firm yank leaves you bare like him - wait — You pout at the realisation that he’d pulled his pants back up. How boring. You wanted to see the evidence of your handiwork.

Well. You had other issues to worry about. Especially when two of his fingers press through your lips and apply pressure to the back of your tongue.

A whine, deep and full of annoyance. At the reactions that you grant the man.

With the loss of control, your mouth all but falls open. Tongue sticks out, with a droplet of saliva connected to the tip of your tongue making its slow departure and landing on the seat.

“Ahhgh—”

“Tryin’ to speak huh? Yeah, good luck with that.” The mental roads his words lead you down. The feeling of his hand pumping away at you furiously.

There was no time to register that your hips were bucking against his hands, fucking into it like a rabbit. A harsh spank meets your ass cheek suddenly. His fingers pull out of your mouth and steal a loud squeal from the depths of your lungs.

Vibrations rush all the way down to your cock, and all you do is whine pathetically once more. You moan and spill into his hand. How helpless.

Your erotic noises slip out into the room, reverberating through the walls. You suck in a deep breath. Sigh shakily at the growing desperation to cum. Your throbbing cock is already sensitive enough from the previous sight of the mercenary’s emerald green eyes so full of lust and rolling back into his skull.

All because of you. He knew how arousing he was.

How he got to you.

Another grave thing you despised the man for is his incredible understanding of your body. It as though he knows you like the back of his hand. As if he’s known you for years now.

Well maybe the two of you have been messing around for a few months now — but still. Your cock weeps with pre-cum each and every time you lay your eyes on him. When he touches you. Everything felt like absolute bliss. As though you float in zenith.

Small grunts break through your throat, betraying the restraint that you so stubbornly attempt to put back into place.

“Stop fuckin’ holding the pretty noises back. Wanna hear ‘em.” He whispers into your ear. Only to grin at the look that you give him. It’s filthy. The pure look of spite and anger. Hatred.

You really are adorable aren’t you? So adorable. Earning your little prize of the pace speeding up. A rough hand squeezes hard at the base of your cock, while the burning tip of it is squeezed in between his thumb and index.

“F— Fuck! Offf— ngh, you don’t haah— hnghn, you— ah. Don’t deserve, a-ah-ny, of them.”

A single roll of his eyes is all you receive. Black eyelashes, feathery and heavy as his eyelids, brush against your left brow as Alessio leans down against your back. This follows a few rough and tight pumps.

With heavy and hot breath against your ear. His next sentence is what sends you into orgasm. “Yeah, you’ve always been fuckin’ boring. Gonna force the sounds out of you huh? Fuck you rough, show you that you’re the dumbest slut I’ve ever known.”

With a small tut, he shakes his head and continues: “I mean, come on. Can’t even make proper restraints. Look at you now. Where are you huh? You stupid whore.”

Dick cumming and crying, his hand clamps down tighter. Pulling hard a few times before he slaps the tip of it. It draws cries of pain and pleasure out of you with demanding touch. What a cruel, cruel man that holds your heart. What a cruel, blissful man.

You wish to splutter a slew of curses at him after your orgasm sizzles out - yet all that leaves your lips is a whine. The quiver of your lips. Similar to your pretty little hole that takes two of his fingers before you could so much as speak.

“Fuck. Little hole’s still so tight?” His grunt finds your ear. “With the way I fuck it? What a damn surprise.” Fingers curl with emphasis against that one, damned spot that has your eyes looping. What more can you do than buck into his hand and spill your pretty noises?

His degradation stings your heart. Pulses at your dick. It’s always been something of his that makes your heart race and your breath hitch. You always feel spurts of pre-cum when he begins his train of mockery, embarrassingly enough. Tonight is no exception.

Long fingers piston without mercy. Alessio’s free hand shoves your thighs up onto the arms of the chair so that he might excess you better. Your vulnerable position has him grinning. His eyes twinkle. His low whistle fills the air.

“Look at that baby - fuck what a sight.”

Fingers curl and torture the spot that makes your body quake. Curse him and all his experience. Sure you have been around a bunch yourself - but he is on something else.

His digits shallow. Fuck into you at a quick, messy pace that urges keens from the back of your throat. It does not take too long before you spill all over his hand once more. This time with a squirt to your cum that arches his brow. As though he is impressed.

The deep tuts that fill your ears tell you so as he slowly withdraws from your throbbing hole. All with a tilt of his head and that grin ever present.

Poor you. Left sprawled out on the chair. Tense and shaking. The thrums of pleasure still cascade through your body. It is what you hoped for out of tonight - but you cannot help the bitter taste at the back of you tongue. Oh if only your design on those restraints had been stronger.

For crying out loud. Even you crack the code within a few minutes. What a waste of material.

“Pobrecito,”

Alessio returns your words with a click of tongue and brings a thumb to stroke along your jaw. Your head is tilted up to meet his warm lips once again. This time you enjoy their taste and the heat that pours into your mouth. A delightful contrast to the chill of his tongue piercing that grazes your pink muscle.

The kiss almost distracts you from the familiar shuffle of fabric and buckle. You crack an eye open to peep at his skilful hands that already fumble with his pants.

A part of you wishes to chastise him. Hadn’t you already gotten those off? Such a waste of time.

Nevertheless, you play the pathetic little villain about to get their ass pounded into next week while he undoes his pants. Your thighs quiver - but you’ll let him believe it is from the way that his large hand grabs and squeezes at it. Rather than from your own excitement.

His lips trace your neck. His hands hoist at the hem of his black boxers - an opening.

Perfect.

Using the same window of opportunity, you stun him with an abrupt shove to a pressure point. A strike to his side with hands free of those disgraceful excuses of restraints. The motion surprises even you. A part of you still had doubt that you could sneak a fast one on him.

Yet when his wrists are in your grasp. His hair tight in your other and his body bent over the table you often hatch your newest schemes upon - well. You knew that you had struck luck.

A pant leaves you. A grin follows. The sight of his rapid blinks followed by wide emerald eyes makes victory return in bubbles through your heaving body.

“Well would you look at that,”

“Oh for fucks sakes.”

“What?” Your lips meet his ear. Your hips shove against his ass. “Got a bit too confident, querido?”

You are no fool to his strength. It’s what wounded you in the chair in the first place. Which is why you steered him to this very table where the rest of your tools and gear scatters about.

You act fast in the snatching of your newest device. You are not dubbed his enemy for nothing after all.

A nanite-infused metal that wills a clamp around his lower back. Magnetically fixing itself onto the table to trap your beautiful rival against it. All bent over and ready for you. Locked. Helpless.

There’s no stopping your hand from landing a spank on his bare ass. Now it is your turn to spit. Smear the mixture of your saliva and remanets of your cum on his awaiting hole. “Oh and here I thought you’d given me a challenge.” You sigh dramatically. Pressure builds around your hand in his hair and you promptly shove his face down further into the metal.

“Well aren’t you a fucking boaster.” The man mutters, as he clenches his fists and groans.

There is a particular wish to wrap his hands around your neck. Squeeze at it and watch the cross eyed look he knew you would give him. To shut you up. Take the smart words out of your mouth.

Alas, the cursed binds he now wields are stronger than the last pair. You always are prepared. After all.

Oh that sweet voice of his, annoyed that you won, all over again: “You bitter, Arias?” It’s all you can say, laughing out at sneer that befalls the man’s expression

Such a breath-taking face, with such a beautiful expression on it. But not prettier than the face you are about to make him have. Fucked out and at your mercy. You are very much planning on keeping him here, even when you are done fucking him. Until he figures out a way to break out of the binds.

“Why don’t you just lean back and enjoy hm? Might be a while until you even get out of here anyways.” The mock goes straight to his leaking dick. Promises of a night he know will leave him in a state of blissed-out numbness.

All he can do is limp his head into the table and groan when he feels two of your fingers mimic his earlier actions. Press through the ring of tightness and slowly, agonisingly stroke along the soft walls. You lean your head over him and tower his body. Flush him further into the metal as your fingers continue their strokes.

He’s always been a bit on the louder side when you have either your fingers or dick inside of him. Lips part and spill the prettiest of sounds that have your cock pulsing at the tip. The way your precum spills is a clear indicator of needing to be inside of him.

Soon, you withdraw your fingers when the need becomes too much. Here you are teasing him for being a slut - while you are here, leaking and eager to get inside of him.

Your hand reaches down to take your cock into your grasp. Slap the head a few times against his thigh. The noise of frustration he lets out has you chuckling. Before you ever so slowly begin to press in. Feel his walls tense. Tremble.

“Fucking hell,” you hiss through clenched teeth. “And you said I was tight? You’re fucking clenching baby,” you murmur. Before you give a few testing rolls of your hips against him.

His eyes flutter. Lips press together in a thin line as he squirms around in the slightest. His pants fan the table and you cannot help the evil desire to patronise him a few times.

Your fingers flex around his dark hair. Squeeze at the strands and yank his head up as you simultaneously snap your hips into him. Now it is your turn to grunt at the sight of ripples that ease over his ass at the impact. It causes you to continue the motion. Once. Twice. Shallow and hard until little whines ease out of his throat.

“What was that about being a whore?”

You huff out a laugh. The pride and taste of victory quickly gets to your head. The once shallow thrusts become tempered. Quick. Until you are fucking into him with an intensity that makes the table skid across the floor every now and then.

Of course your lips find purpose too. They trail heated kisses up and down his neck. Teeth join the mixture with rough bites to sate the burning desire that coils within the pit of your stomach. Every thrust plaps against his ass, creating the most beautiful of noises to pair with his choked moans and whines.

“F-Fu- hhngh - a-h - wait -”

“Wait? Oh you don’t want me to wait, hermoso. You want it harder.”

And so your hips begin to slam. Angle at that one spot that has him gasping. To further feed into the intensity - you yank on his hair and force an arch to his neck and back. Slip a hand down to grab onto his cock and give a few merciless pumps. As though you are not already doing his head in.

“Right?” Another snap. Another choked whine. “Right. Arias?”

It’s spoken through clenched teeth. The sudden anger of earlier and previous counters spill out of you like a tempered waterfall. You cannot stop the way that you begin pounding his tight little ass against the table. All while he sprawls out and drools. Unable to do anything but part his lips and whine every time you hit against his prostate.

It is quite funny. He’s got such the big mouth when he is here. Beneath you. Taking your cock as well as he always does; he’s nothing but a whining mess. One that drools all over you table. Attempts to strain his moans have long since died. All he can do is submit. To you and your manhandling.

You dig your thumb against his dick again. Swirl at it until you feel it spilling. The sensation huffs another laugh from your throat. Harsh and metallic, much like the table your poor enemy thumps against with each sharp movement.

“Cummin’ already? Where’s that mouth of yours? Huh?”

Another emphasis when you shallow your thrusts. Time them in slow yet hard pounds that have his body keening. His mouth falls open and his eyes flutter a little.

You tighten your grip. Tug on his hair. So that you might witness the pretty sight of his eyes rolling back and his black lips that part in a moan that riddles with all sorts of sinful melodies.

“Qu-Querriddooo - h-anh- fuck please -”

“Begging.” You aren’t sure whether the noise that leaves you is a snarl or a laugh. Maybe a combination of both as you feel your own orgasm begin to bubble. Judging from the wetness on your palm - you can only assume he’s squirted more than one.

Your teeth dig into his red ear. Despite shallow thrusts you pick up in pace again. Skin slapping against skin creates a sinful, high-tempo through your base as you draw climax after climax in only the cruel way that you can. Until he is shaking. Whimpering.

“Wh-What a pitiful - mess.” You grunt into his ear. It takes all of your restraint to bite back your own whine when you feel yourself cream him full. You draw back only to see the mess of your cum trickling down his thighs.

What a sight.

Another spank to his ass reverberates through the room and you waste no time pulling out to the tip. A grin settles itself on your lips at the sound of his whine. Needy despite his deep voice - albeit a little pitched from pleasure and overstimulation.

“Yeah? You miss it? Work for it.” Another spank to his thigh has him gulping. And oh, how pathetic does he look in his attempts of pushing his hips back. To take you back in and fuck himself onto your dick once more.

It’s a cruel want. One you cannot watch for too long. Not with the way that you leak. Throb. Beg to be back into him — and here you are. Mocking him for pleading with you.

With a tap to the metal band - the nanites disperse and scatter to his wrists instead. A synchronised motion flips him over onto his back and you use your strength coupled with his slack to shove his body into a sitting position.

The metal splits in half and forms cuffs around his wrists instead. They hold him firm to the table once more. So that you might bear witness to his red face. Teary eyes and messy hair. All while he stares up at you with panting, whining lips.

“Know you miss it, slut.” You mutter into his red ear. Grip at his side and press back into him. Balls smacking into the back of his thighs with heavy thrusts that you quickly bleed back into.

A combination of your groans fill the room. You reach back down to palm at his squirting dick while your lips pepper all sorts of affection along his neck. And bites along his collarbone.

He left such evident marks of his claim on you last time - why not return the favour?

“You feel that?” You huff. Your face draws near to his. Lips but a breath away as you press your tongue to his lower. Your groan vibrates through the both of you.

Your thrusts weigh out. Shake his body in a way that has a little - ah ah ah - leave his throat. All while you heave out a chuckle.

“Feel the way you take me? Like you were made for it? Yeah?”

Your lips tease a kiss at his. The way that his head chases after is too much to resist. You push your face closer and clam your lips onto his. Easing kiss of utter heat and feralness onto him. All while you fuck through both of your orgasms. Again and again - and again.

“P-Pretty boy - pretty, stupid boy - ngh.”

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𖹭. remember◞ you make a writer's day every time you like, reblog and/or comment on their piece. if you enjoyed my work, please considering doing so<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 ꒱ tip jar . masterist ⊹ ۪ ࣪

[rin-solo]

I love. LOVE. Get In the Water

It's one of the objectively best songs in the musical; I will die on this hill.

Poseidon was always, despite being pretty much the main antagonist of EPIC, a really underdeveloped character in my opinion. He just needed a little more nuance, and the fact that one (+ kind of one more) song managed to add so much to his characterization pretty much exclusively through subtext and implications is incredibly impressive writing. Because it did!

At the start, he's yet again playing games with Odysseus, the way he did in Ruthlessness. In both songs, he could kill him easily at any point, yet he chooses not to for the sake of playing games. In Ruthlessness, this becomes his own hubris as it leads to Odysseus escaping.

If you listen closely, at the start of GITW he already sounds slightly different. He's still trying to keep up this "God of Ruthlessness" front that he's so proud of, but he's no longer more or less carefree the way he was in Ruthlessness. He's been obsessing over this feud for ten years, and even if he would never admit it, it's actually clear just from his voice that he really is tired of it too. Not in the sense of it emotionally draining him the way it probably does Odysseus, but in the sense that it's a bother, a loose end in his life, a book that he finally wants to slam shut.

But he still has a reputation to uphold, and he still cannot close this book until Odysseus is dead, so he keeps up the game. Instead of just killing him, he's taunting him to kill himself. He might associate the idea of just striking him down with a sort of loss, like then he'd have to get his hands dirty. Then he's rambling about killing his people, his family. He's provoking Odysseus on purpose, likely trying to get him to snap back, to hate and fear him the way that Poseidon would think any mortal who has consumed this much of his time should. In his eyes, Odysseus deserves nothing less than to curse him with his last breath as his "darkest moment," the god who became the bane of his life.

And Odysseus replies, of all things, with ... sympathy.

Honestly, I don't blame Poseidon for being speechless for three full seconds. He literally just threatened to gauge Telemachus' eyes out the way Odysseus did with Polyphemus, and this absolute madlad of a man replies with an acknowledgment that he (might have) caused Poseidon pain too.

Now, I don't really think Poseidon was particularly hurt over Polyphemus' loss, or hurting in any way in that moment (if he were, I highly doubt he'd still be playing games, and he would've mentioned his son as opposed to speaking about his reputation.) But just the fact that Odysseus acknowledges that he might be hurting too is probably something Poseidon hasn't heard in ... who knows how long? His family is the Olympians. I don't think I have to say more.

It's actually more of a genuine apology than Odysseus' explanation in Ruthlessness ... (even though that was also a perfectly fine apology by Greek standards, as far as I'm aware.) Now he doesn't say "sorry" because he's still not sorry for hurting Polyphemus, since he still needed to do that in order to escape. But he expresses regret over the pain he caused in a more genuine way than ever.

I am convinced that Poseidon is utterly unfamiliar with sympathy or mercy. He's lived by his "Ruthlessness is mercy" motto for centuries, and he doesn't know anything else. No one would try to teach him something different. The other gods all live by this logic, even if he's the most vocal about it considering he seems to have made it his whole personality. Mortals wouldn't dare to question Poseidon in the first place. And barely anyone would be willing to treat someone with kindness who is in turn treating everyone around them with ruthlessness.

It's very likely that Poseidon hasn't encountered anyone like this until Odysseus. Ruthlessness is simply how he treats people and also how he expects to be treated back. The fact that Odysseus doesn't, the fact that instead of hating, fearing, or cursing him, he acknowledges that they have both hurt each other and that it doesn't lead anywhere to still pursue vengeance, must have triggered Poseidon in an unprecedented way.

To him, this was probably the most outrageous thing Odysseus could have said in that moment. And it throws him off so much that he is genuinely speechless, and then simply replies, "I can't." ... his most genuine-sounding line in the whole musical.

I cannot stress enough how much it threw me off to hear this line; in the best way imaginable, it doesn't sound like Poseidon. It sounds almost vulnerable. Almost human. Because he is genuinely at a loss so much that he forgets to put up his "wrathful god" facade for just one second. Standing ovation to Steven Rodriguez for his whole performance, but especially this part.

And then Odysseus goes all out to say something even more outrageous: "Maybe you could learn to forgive?"

... Which is when Poseidon snaps.

Kind of understandable, honestly. There's this mortal whom he has likely fantasized about seeing pleading, hate-filled, and terrified, cowering before him for ten years now ... telling him that he ought to learn something. Even hijacking his own motif and his instrument in order to turn it on its head, "defile" it if you will.

This f*cking mortal pr*ck took his own "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" catchphrase and turned it into forgiveness ... Of course, Poseidon is no longer hesitating; of course, he is no longer concerned with getting his hands dirty or not. He yells "DIE!" and unleashes his ultimate move (which is really overkill for simply killing a mortal if you think about it) ... But he does it anyway because this time he genuinely means it.

... That, and I am also convinced he jumps to that in order to simply shut Odysseus up, fearing what he might do or think if he lets him go on. Because you cannot tell me that Odysseus didn't actually reach him for just one moment. He was far too thrown off guard, far too vulnerable in that one second. That moment of kindness did something to him, and he hated it. He also probably didn't trust himself to be able to keep listening to Odysseus speak like that. So, he abandons his (still very technically feasible!) blackmail/intimidation and just straight-up kills him.

This simple exchange (my favorite moment in the whole musical, actually) tells us so much about both of these characters that it makes me want to skitter and squeal in excitement.

Here is Odysseus—the very same one whom Poseidon specifically tried to teach ruthlessness—becoming the first person in a long time to offer him sympathy despite how Poseidon himself showed him nothing but ruthlessness. And then one song later, here is Odysseus showing him the consequences of not accepting said sympathy.

Six Hundred Strike and what Odysseus does to Poseidon would've not hit the same, in my opinion, if he hadn't made this offer, if he hadn't given Poseidon this way out, even if no one watching genuinely expected it to work (probably not even Odysseus himself.)

Six Hundred Strike is not Odysseus exacting vengeance If GITW proved anything about Odysseus, it's that he does not want vengeance. He wants all of the hatred and pain to be over, to the point where he is willing to let go of, and I am inclined to say forgive Poseidon for what he's done to him. Six Hundred Strike is simply Odysseus teaching him this lesson that Poseidon couldn't have learned in any other way, because he has proven in GITW that he genuinely does not speak any language besides that of ruthlessness (more on that in this essay!)

It's just the perfect representation of how Odysseus has now finally learned the balance between mercy and ruthlessness, which seems to be the core theme of the musical: Both have their time and place; one simply has to be willing to act in both ways and know when to use either. No one extreme is the solution. I am genuinely exhilarated that Odysseus finally seemed to have figured out that it's been both all along.

[donnas-dollface]

Dating Miss Molly O'shea Headcannons;

characters: molly o'shea (x gn reader)

a/n: sorry dudes she won't leave my brain and i cannot get anything done because of it LMAO my apologies if she's a bit ooc, i haven't exactly written for her so I'm not expecting to nail it first try! we'll be back on Donna's track whenever i catch up with my school work 🫶

warnings: possible ooc molly,mention of a slimy haired asshole(Dutch)

dating Molly is you teaching her to relove herself, and seeing her worth. she's been brushed aside, silenced and ignored. sometimes she feels as though her opinion amounts from little to nothing. doesn't really stop her from voicing them though.

she's not exactly used to being heard either. You actually listening to her, whether it be her shouting or crying, it's relieving. And you're not screaming or yelling back at her? what is this.

touch starved touch starved touch starved touch starved touch starved- Ahem! She craves physical touch but doesn't exactly know how to ask for it. Molly also isn't into PDA, but she'll warm up into being a cuddle bug whenever you're alone :)

Enjoys walking around camp with your hand in hers, or just simply with your pinkies interlocked. And is a sucker for cheek/knuckle kisses.

if you want her to melt into a puddle just compliment her features or her laugh. it makes her smile and giggle, sometimes she'll swat your arm softly. "Oh you."

kiss her freckles too. it makes her short circuit if she's not expecting it.

definitely enjoys teasing and picking on you. when's she's comfortable enough, she leaves her little lipstick marks on your face and that is HARD to get off.

writes you cute little poems but is too nervous to actually show you. and love letters!

She's a little antsy about being around horses. just one of her "irrational fears" but you don't mind. If she's sharing your saddle, best believe her arms are snug around your waist so she doesn't slip off.

when that gramophone comes out, you two are dancing to it. she's a really good dancer, and even if you have two left feet, she still enjoys the fact you're making an effort. but you probably might wanna learn, she doesn't really enjoy leading.

Her favorite way of time passing with you is just sitting in your shared tent reading to/with you. sometimes she'll share gossip you might've missed while you were out or on a job, or sometimes you're sitting in the silence.

She doesn't like to show it but she really does miss Dublin, and her family on occasions. the best you can do in these situations is ask her to accompany you to St. Denis for a show and to do some window shopping.

Molly believes very strongly in her opinions, and will voice whenever she doesn't like something. You're getting called to go on a job that sounds a little shifty? She's barking at Dutch that if anything should happen to you, she'd have him roasting on a stick. or she's telling you not to do it.

"Tere's no way in 'ell I'm letting you do it!"

Comfort is also foreign to her. Apologizing too. Sometimes, she'll say something she knows was too far and she immediately shuts down. You'll be storming out of the tent to cool off and she's just there cursing herself to hell.

"Oh good one O'shea, they'll definitely leave ya for tat!"

and she does fully believe it. but somehow you come back, and she's just unsure how to react to it. "I... I'm sorry." be patient with her, she'll recover it eventually. just not used to having an actual relationship with love and care.

ohh... she's an easily jealous woman. she trusts you, don't get me wrong, but somebody touching your arm or laughing a little too much at your jokes irks her. she glares them down, and will scoff/huff whenever they say something flirtatious to you.

adores surprise gifts! and when you remember some tiny little detail about herself akcbdjjs the gifts doesn't have to be like extravagant, she likes when you come back with a simple bouquet of wildflowers.

envisions your future together like the hopeless romantic she is. she personally would like to move back to the city, but if you don't want it or would rather stay in the great wilderness, she'll do that for you.

thanks for reading! hopefully this is good cause i do really like molly, i just need more practice with her character.

little spoon most of the time. please just hold this woman, she finds comfort in it. she also gets cold easily.

[rollofleaf]

7 Snippets 7 People

Tagged by @cassynite ! Thank you for thinking of me, it’s good motivation to try and push myself to write more. Sorry it took me a few days to get to.

Tagging @arendaes , @iwoszareba , @bearvanhelsing , and @silversiren1101 !

Snippets are from various things I’m working on, I did a different character for each.

1. (Slight nsfw)

Marazhai lounged on his bed with all the smugness of a content cat, completely unashamed in his nakedness. He still proudly bore bleeding scratches along his chest and bruises on his thigh. Heinrix, on the other hand, was hurriedly donning his clothes, desperately avoiding the mildly amused gaze of the Rogue Trader that had interrupted his heresy.

Arethousa strode up to the psyker and grabbed him by the ear, pulling him close despite his gasp of protest. “Now, Inquisitor. If you ever see fit to question the bond I share with Yrliet again, I will be forced to remind you of what I just witnessed. Perhaps that will stop you from criticizing a Rogue Trader in public?”

He winced. Still, it was a fair request considering his shame. “Y-yes, Lord Captain.”

Arethousa released him with a grin. “Good boy. Or is that the xenos's line?” She promptly turned and walked out the door, in need of some soap to scrub the sight from her eyes.

2.

Grace groaned, furiously rubbing her temples as she pulled herself to her feet. She had slept through the night after her kidnapper’s ship crashed on the beach. And… Her mind was still a blank, impenetrable fog. Some part of her had expected her memories to return after escaping the illithids, but such hopes were dashed. She looked around. This place was wholly unfamiliar, though just about nothing was familiar to her. But she was near the ocean, at least.

Grace walked over to a small tide pool, staring into the water to get a good look at her unknown face. She was a tiefling, she knew that instinctively. Deep red skin, straight horns, short purple hair. She was pretty, all things considered. And her cheeks were stained with blood. Sweet, delicious blood. Enough to lick up, yet she wanted more, wanted enough to bathe in. She was hypnotized by the sight until her reflection began to move on its own and speak in a voice not her own.

“Oh, good, you’re alive! How are you feeling, love?”

3.

“You… You speak true. I am terrified… Will I learn to love you only after I kill you? To struggle so long to regain that joy, only to cast it aside in the process like the petals of a dandelion… But… I would rather love again and mourn you. I must do this. I must trust that this will lift the curse and pursue it. What else can I do?”

You can let me save you. The words hung on Ethyn’s lips, begging to be free. But they would mean nothing to her. She could only act for Nyrissa, not placate her with promises. She simply gazed up at the beautiful nymph that had crushed her heart. “If you’re so resolved, then do it. End me.”

Nyrissa raised the knife. Her tears fell on Ethyn’s innocent skin, blossoming into roses as they touched her. She plunged the knife down, into the bedsheets. She couldn’t do it. Even in a dream, she couldn’t force herself to finish Ethyn off. With a furious groan, she tossed the knife aside and rolled onto her back. “I… I cannot.” She laughed out. “A spider with sympathy for what’s caught in her web. And I cannot even feel sympathy… I do not love you. I cannot love you or anyone! So why do I feel this way? Why do you haunt my dreams, make my hands tremble, why do I trust you in this way? Why does that accursed word still hold sway over me?!”

4.

Hilde roared as she brought her axe up, bringing it down with enough force to decapitate the succubus. Arueshalae darted in front of the demon, barely managing to parry Hilde's swing with her starknife. The succubus's hands were trembling, her eyes squeezed shut as she shook violently. "S-stop. S-stop it!" She shook her head as she settled into a fighting stance, leveling her bow at Hilde. Arueshalae was fighting desperately against the control, her eyes pleading and desperate as they stared into Hilde's.

The other succubus let out a pompous laugh as she darted back and away from the melee. "Oh, darling! You want to be a stupid little mortal, so you'll be controlled like one..." Arueshalae flinched and loosed her arrow, crying out in terror and worry as it nicked Hilde's shoulder.

Hilde looked right past her friend, glaring at the succubus controlling her. "You're going to suffer for that. Arueshalae, don't worry. I know it's not you that's hurting me."

5.

There was a distinct skip in the elf’s step as she strode through the thick trees of the lands known as the Hinterlands. A terrible name, this land was anything but hinter! It was beautiful, nearly unspoiled, a treasure trove of unique life and people that Noriaralyn had spent nearly two weeks exploring with relish. What she did not expect to see or hear in her wanderings was the sound of crying. The elf’s long ears perked and flicked as she stopped still to pinpoint the source. Some nearby bushes… She walked over as the wailing grew louder, carefully tugging aside the leaves as the crying suddenly halted. The kaldorei found herself staring into the eyes of an infant, a baby dwarf. Pudgy fingers reached out curiously at the deep purple skin and bright green hair of the face staring into hers as Nori reached out to gingerly pick up the baby.

“Aww… Hello, little one… Why are you here all alone? Where are your parents?" The infant's wails quieted as Nori lifted her out of the bush, brushing some stray leaves off of her.

6.

Ssathera's vision slowly returned. Faded sunlight dappled the surface of the water above her, in her escape she must have thrown herself into the icy river. The ghouls hissed and growled at the water's edge, peering through the murky depths but unwilling to venture in. She let herself sink deeper to hide from them, the naga's gills happy to breathe water oncemore. Still, the chill only made the pain of her myriad bleeding scratches that much worse. Her scales had been torn away where the abomination's hook had landed, and her blue blood seeped into the water.

She felt fear far more chilling than the frigid depths rise in her breast, a tremble in her tail and fins. She should go back. She had sworn to fight and die with her kin and the blood elves. Her sisters, her allies, her friends. But how many had been cut down? She was one siren, what could she do? No, she had to go back, she couldn’t run! Her tail began to beat, propelling her through the water. Away from the battle. Try as she might, she could not fight her cowardice.

7.

The drow’s gaze flitted between Shadowheart and the imposing form of the Nightsong. The two shared unspoken words and Taliira turned to focus on Shadowheart. “I think you should do as your heart tells you to.”

Shadowheart scoffed. “Come now. You must have thoughts on this, -Selunite-.” She spat out the word with all the contempt she could muster. Her hand trembled. She needed Taliira to try to sway her, to fight her and give her the resolve to do what Lady Shar commanded. She needed the drow to prove her doubts right, to prove that she was just a lapdog for Selune that would try to turn her from her faith. If she wasn’t, then she didn’t know what to do with the doubt that swelled in her. If the doubt wasn’t subterfuge from Taliira, where did it come from?

[bluberimufim]

I want to sleep

Heyyyyyy I got bored so here's another snippet from "Devourer of Souls". This one was also in the poll (ages ago) - it's the "Asha character exploration" one!

taglist: @little-mouse-gardens, @wildswrites

trigger warnings: kind of suicidal ideation-adjacent, but in a way a very old immortal would be longing for their suffering to end

“You know, I told you you had talent for the frontlines.” “Asha…” The Master Healer Lady pointed a finger in her direction, telling her to shut up. Her other hand held a half-emptied glass of wine, a leftover from dinner. “I told you the Goddess of Time would want you by her side.” Asha looked to the open window, which let in the cool night breeze. Seth sat behind her desk, in the office lit only by a weak old lamp. It must have already been in the building when they’d set up the hospital. “The Goddess of Time has no interest in me.” “Your magic is fascinating!” Asha exclaimed, throwing herself into a chair across from Seth. “I spent the whole afternoon looking at records I have of past healers and I found nothing like it. How do you do it? Seth shrugged. She didn’t like talking about it. “I don’t know. I was never able to heal people the correct way.” She decided to leave the explanation at that. Her thoughts on her own soul and its incompatibility with the rest of the world were for Theo’s ears only. “Mmmmm. I see.” Asha fell silent, fidgeting with her hands, which she’d laid on her chest. She drank the rest of her wineglass and set it down on the table, right beside the bottle. Seth’s own glass remained almost untouched. “You’re dying, aren’t you?” Seth asked. She said it as if it was simply a fact. Something obvious, and not a question with such weight. Asha nodded. A light smile spread across her face. “You’ve noticed too?” “I can see it.” “I think Dora knows as well.” “I can… heal you. If you like.” Asha spread her arms over the table. Her face was near where Seth’s hands lay. She could say that she’d talked to Asha many times, but never like this. Because the person she’d been with hadn’t really been Asha: it was the Master Healer Lady of the eastern hospital. Only in that dimly lit office, for the first time, did she truly see her. “Let it be.” “It’s nothing to me. I don’t even have to use my own soul.” “No. I feel like I’m reaching my limit. I prefer to leave things as they are.” “But…” “Dora has already told you her plans for when I die, right?” Seth let herself sink into the chair, with a sigh. “Yes.” “Then you know how we’re both tired. You know she’s the last thing keeping me here. I give her my soul because it’s what I want to do. It’s how I choose to show her my love and devotion.” Asha paused and straightened her spine. She placed her chin into her hand, looking at her distorted reflection on the wine bottle’s surface, with a melancholic expression on her face. “You’re the only person I knew that’s still alive, you know? All the other healers I met over the years. All the friends I made. A few girlfriends as well. All dead.” She sighed. “You know… for the standards of a normal person, I’m not even that old. But I can’t help but think that the Goddess of Time has cursed me with a horribly long life. It’s very lonely, living like this." Seth couldn’t reply. “The only people I know now are these healers,” Asha continued. “They’re all younger than me and I know that they’re all going to die. And, if they don’t die, they’ll suffer the same fate as me. The only people I can talk to are you three." She pushed her chair away, its leg catching on the soft carpet, and went to the window. “I love Dora. At least like this, I can dedicate the rest of my life to her and, when it’s over, we’ll head together into death. We’re both so, so tired of prolonging the inevitable. I want to sleep."

Cannot believe Asha was a throwaway character I made up for the prologue. Look where she ended up. Wtf.

[aeoki]

Atlantis - Clown: Chapter 7

Location: Seisou Hall Tea Ceremony Room Characters: Yuzuru, Eichi & Wataru Season: Winter

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< That night. Seisou Hall – Tea Ceremony Room >

Eichi: Hehe. It’s not like you to make such a big blunder, Wataru.

Wataru: I feel truly ashamed.

Eichi: It’s fine. Wrongdoings are bound to be exposed soon enough – I’m sure it was fated to happen.

Fortunately, the ones who found out about the truth were Yuzuru and Touri. Putting the student council president election aside, it shouldn’t have any impact on “Project-ATLANTIS”.

I don’t think Touri would do something pointless as getting revenge and reveal the truth to the other Yumenosaki students, either.

Even if he did, he’d only feel relief for a moment and it would mean his biggest rival in the election, Z. K. Amano Hashidate, would simply lose her position…

And if he won the election, there would be no meaning beyond that. In terms of our future, he has no choice but to keep his mouth shut.

Wataru: I can definitely promise you he won’t utter a word.

Not only that, he also sincerely asked me to try and win the election without holding back as Z. K. Amano Hashidate.

Eichi: Oh? So that’s what Touri has chosen to do. I knew it – he really is different from me.

If it was me, I would prioritise obtaining the position of student council president and would have asked you to withdraw from the election.

I’d threaten you by saying, “If you don’t want your identity revealed, then do as I say.”

Wataru: You would threaten a friend…? That would only cause your relationship with them to worsen in the future.

Eichi: Even so, that’s what I’d do. I don’t have any intention of fighting fair and square.

I don’t have the time for it. It would be better to find the easiest way to reach my destination.

But Touri intentionally chooses to challenge the obstacles in his way. He believes there is meaning in the process as opposed to the things he can gain before him. 

Wataru: Indeed. I hope for him to grow stronger after fighting with me with all he has.

If anything, he was a bit cheeky, saying he was relieved I was his opponent. He also mentioned how he felt guilty crushing his opponent if it was a girl he didn’t know.

Eichi: He’s talking quite big. It would be laughable if he lost, but he would be a hero if he wins. Just like the hero in stories.

Good. Your “story” is far worthy of my attention in comparison to my boring work of bringing “Project-ATLANTIS” to completion on behalf of ES.

Wataru: Ahh, Eichi has a look of excitement on his face – he only usually shows that expression to me, though! This is the first time I’ve felt envious of Himegimi! He has finally reached the castle!

Yuzuru: I see you two are having an excessively delightful time together as usual.

Eichi: Hehe. We had the wonderful opportunity of being born into this world – it would be a waste not to enjoy ourselves.

Wataru: Hm, did you have business with us, Mr. Butler?

Yuzuru: No, I’m here on behalf of the Young Master. It seems he finds it difficult to face you two.

He said, “I think I might end up cursing at them, so give them an explanation in my place, Yuzuru.”

Eichi: Ahaha. Even someone like him would end up in a bad mood, huh. Well, it’s only natural, though.

I wouldn’t mind if he did curse at us. What we did was cruel and deserving of that.

We said we did it for his sake, but we just toyed with him like some plaything – we shouldn’t be allowed to complain even if he hit us.

Yuzuru: It’s a bad habit of you two to play with other people’s lives in such a way.

I shouldn’t be pointing that out at this point in time, and since the Young Master has decided not to say anything, I cannot mention anything, either.

But at the very least, if you do feel even a slight ounce of guilt, then I’d like you to unconditionally accept his request.

Eichi: As expected, you’re always skilled in negotiations, Yuzuru. I can’t get emotional and promise you that, but what I can do is provide an interesting suggestion.

That’s what I can always do at any time.

No. If anything, that’s what I seek from you two.

Wataru: What is Himegimi’s request?

Yuzuru: As you had explained before, he would like you to not hold back in the student council president election as Z. K. Amano Hashidate.

Wataru: Leave it to me. That was my role in the first place.

Yuzuru: Also, he would like you to entrust “Project-ATLANTIS” to him. That was what you had intended in the beginning, no?

Eichi: Yeah. I didn’t expect Touri to feel so pressured when I first brought it up with him…

I noticed and thought it would be better for me to handle it myself. It’s not like me at all to be so considerate.

I don’t want to repeat what happened at “SS”. You may not believe me but it’s how I truly feel.

I was afraid when he collapsed, thinking that God was being mean and spreading my curse of being in poor health to someone innocent. 

I won’t allow him to befall misfortune all because he loves me.

That’s why I arrogantly and stubbornly did everything I could to keep him away from the “real hell”.

That was the repayment I could muster with all my strength in exchange for his love.

But it seems that was unnecessary.

Yuzuru: Yes. You spoiled him as you raised him, so he has grown to be quite greedy.

He wishes to obtain everything he wants. No, that is how Himemiya has risen to prominence.

He is still young and weak – his physical body and heart is too small to contain his greed.

But thanks to the efforts of you both, he has grown, even if it’s not much.

He has grown big and strong to the point he can reach his hand out to the things he wants.

The Young Master will surely prove that to you this time.

Please watch my master give his best in his struggle.

Watch him as he, Touri Himemiya, powerfully takes flight.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[misskazehana]

I got some comic content finally! :1 I wanted to draw Pearl and Hector- ended up with two comics and a two part confession. I don't have the proper attention span to actually sit and write stuff. I need a visual first- then the lore just puts into once I post it on tumblr. Now then, time to infodump on these pics.

First two are wordy, so I am putting down transcriptions for everyone's sakes. It's how they view each other upon realizing they actually like one another and get intimate for the first time.

"The demon that haunts me isn't a cruel (one) yet it also isn't kind. It entangles me deeply into things I've no business being in. Yet, I cannot escape the shadow- its far too dark and looming. What a lovely prison I've been given to live in. I know my death awaits me in this moment. His eyes are so brilliant and I can only feel dread. For what if this is just another pale imitation? What if he's really just (using me)? Am I to be another (victim)? Alas, I cannot even tell if (that's the truth)? If this (love) is for real? My deepest desire..."

2. "The gods curse me with a momentary marvel. Of all the things to enrapture me, it had to be you. Mortal, yet immortal- your song, my memory. My father told me once how humans can color us so easily. Although, I suspected hers would be dyed by mine. Only to find her brilliance clashes against my radiance. It's why you take up so much space in my canvas. You, my bewitching beauty- fleeting fantasy. Diamonds, pearls and even platinum doesn't carry the same glimmer as your eyes do."

The second set of two is just a two part confession piece.

First: Pearl comes off as extremely forward despite being absurdly self conscious about even telling him that. She's waxing poetically to make it easier since she know the man loves his theater and opera. Hector is caught off guard by the break in his lady's usually stoic facade. He isn't completely put off by it since he's into her. Yet, too self conscious himself to directly say it. So, he shuts up. Leads o a one sided moment. Both are equally flabbergasted by the other but refuse to admit it at first.

Second: Hector finally works up the gods-forsaken nerve to reply in kind. He assures Pearl she'd never regret being with him ( a reference to the first part). His potential lover inquires even if it means he'd be face to face with her cousin (his debtor and royal- Saphir) He slyly rebuttals with 'especially if she fusses' Pearl simply laughs and the two awkwardly hold hands since there's a height difference. :3 Guess who's the short one ? (It's hector as he's on his tiptoes and pearl's leaning down to meet em at eye level)

Art and characters belong to me, misskazehana

[iguessjustcallmesunflower]

Arnold's Second or Third Wife

Arnold's Second or Third Wife

She was another that had been at the facility the first time I’d worked there. The Wife was the sweetest little thing at first, she was, I swear. And then my sister was hired on, and immediately she liked my sister more. I started working for the FBI, the CIA. I was poisoning her and drugging her, I was beating her... I was this awful person, yet once she took a liking to my sister, I seldom went into her room. I avoided it at all costs. Don’t come at me, everyone has their favorites. She was one of my sisters.  

The Wife was a spiteful woman, too. She held a grudge. After my hiatus, after my sister had left, she remembered me. And she let me know, too. I was not allowed to come in her room while she was sleeping, I was not allowed to change out her oxygen tanks, I was not allowed to be near her while she was awake. She has the memory of an elephant. Now, we’re kind of forced to coexist because I’m pretty much the only one on that hall.  

The Wife is... a character. She was in tears one night, screaming for help, sounding like someone was absolutely murdering her. I get to her room after tipping my chair, and she looks at me from her bed, gives me the dirtiest, meanest death glare she could have (It was an, “I-hate-you-go-fuck-a-cactus" glare.) and she wails that I was stealing Arnold from her. I cannot tell you how many deep breaths I had to take and how many times I had to count to ten. And I went back into her room, reassured her I wasn’t going to steal Arnold from her, I didn’t want him, and she was safe to go to sleep. It took her another hour to settle down, easily. She still, even today, hates me. One minute she’ll be sweet as pie, the next, I’m trying to steal her man. No thank you, you can keep him. He’s not my cup of tea. I prefer my men a little more... supportive, like a Labrador, loving like a Golden Retriever, protective like a Doberman. 

Another night, she was on a roll. I had kidnapped her from her wedding to Arnold from New York and had sold her body on the Mexican black market. To top it off? I had stolen their son. She was absolutely ruthless that night. She was just nonstop accusing, yelling, threatening... It was never-ending. Of course, the next morning, my relief was an hour and a half late. As I was leaving the hall, pissed beyond belief, the relief was cheery and talking about how she’d gotten to sleep in... Mind you, I’m going on fourteen hours. I’m livid. The Wife is coming down the hallway at me, cursing me up and down, telling me she’ll get her attorney involved. I looked the aide dead in the eyes, pointed at the Wife, said, “She’s been on a roll.” Turned, looked at the Wife, and ruined the aide’s day.  

“I’ll tell your son you love him, and I’ll see you in court.” The horrific, dramatic wail that came out of her mouth was worth it. Later that night, something like nine hours later, when I went back in for my shift, she was all smiles and cheerful. The whole incident was long forgotten. Don’t start on me for being mean, I wasn’t exactly mean. She forgot it around noon but ruining that snide aide’s morning was worth the write up.  

My victory was short lived. She was back at it around midnight. Her roommate is one I’ll talk about at some point here. She is African American, and a total badass. Anyways, the Wife was back on her shit, and instead of hitting her light, she simply screams bloody murder. I didn’t tip my chair this time, as I’d kind of already figured out it wasn’t serious. I go into her room... and she’s complaining that “black people from Kentucky are stabbing her”. I can’t make this shit up. (See why her roommate was important?) Her roommate rolls over, grumbles at her to “shut the fuck up” and is sound asleep after that. I tell the Wife she’s fine, Arnold is there to protect her, and boom, we’re back on the Arnold shit. I once again explain to her that I’m not interested in her man, I’m talking to my own, and it sparks up the threats.  

Another long night. The next morning a friend is calming me down because my relief is two hours late. I’m tired and crabby. I’m over it and ready to quit. And the nurse is being a complete bitch. So, I did what I do best. My job. I got the Wife up, dodged her punches, got her dressed and in her chair, while she’s still swinging, and had her all ready and riled up to go for dayshift. Of course, the aide relieving me is the same one as the day before, the daughter one of the in-house nurses. She’s exempt and pretty much makes her own schedule, comes in whenever she wants, leaves whenever she wants. It’s irritating.  

The Wife is by far the biggest pain of a resident I have, and I even have some that spit on me and throw hands. Simply because it’s every single night. She never takes a night off. Ever. It’s exhausting, and it’s not like you can tune it out. She hated me, but when she was transferred to another facility, I was extremely sad to see her go.  

It’s residents like the Wife that taught me patience, and kindness, and when to fight fire with fire. I learned to pick and choose my battles. I learned to control my temper even better than I could before. Temper control is a virtue in this line of work. It really is. You have to be able to take a punch, and a good one at that, and walk away with no reaction. You aren’t allowed to defend yourself. You aren’t allowed to fight back. You simply take the beating until the rest of the staff arrives, or the resident stops. More often than not, on night shift, help didn’t come. The resident simply tired themselves out and stopped the assault.  

I both loved and hated my job.  

[leviathans-watching]

hello, darling! How are you? I love your writing, and I'm obsessed with your blog aesthetic as well! <3 take good care of yourself because you obviously deserve it from how hard you're working

my request is quite simple! please don't feel forced to write anything you don't want to, and feel free to ignore this if desired! I was listening to "My Girlfriend is a Witch" (October Country) and I thought to myself: the obey me brothers with an s/o who's a witch/sorcerer! I wasn't thinking about ALL characters (because my favorite is Lucifer), but feel free to actually include anyone you want! Thank you for your time and I appreciate the effort!

> if you desire something more specific: the MC would be a human exchange student like Solomon, using magic to some things and making potions, having also very good cooking, and admiring storytelling. Any trouble envolving dark magic among the brothers? MC can resolve it! Or at least try to help. Another witches are bothering Mammon again? MC will talk to them, since the witches in question are on their class anyways.

(also, may I be 🍓 anon? hehe <3)

lucifer x witch!mc

includes: lucifer x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .5k | rated g | m.list

a/n: this was so cute!! i also have a longer series with sorcerer mc here! my inbox is open to chat, req, or leave feedback so come say hi!! and yes, you can absolutely be 🍓 anon hehe

please reblog <3

at first, lucifer hadn’t trusted you in the slightest. sure, he’d technically been the one to choose you as the new applicant, but he hadn’t actually looked at your application, something that was definitely coming back to bite him.

at least you weren’t part of the coven that mammon was entangled in, he had thought to himself, trying to look on the bright side, dim as it was.

slowly though, you grew on him. though some of your pursuits had ended poorly, like when you’d accidentally burned off your eyebrows making a potion, or had a spell go wrong and made everyone in rad only able to tell the truth, he began to feel more amused by them than irritated, a sure sign you were endearing yourself to him.

and some of your skills were quite helpful, he had to admit. when belphie had gotten sick with some form of rare illness, you’d saved the day by cooking up a remedy when even simeon and solomon were unable to. and some of your teas and herb mixtures were useful, not to mention delicious.

now, lucifer mused, he was completely head over heels for you. sure, there were still things that you did that gone on his nerves, or thins you said that he didn’t fully agree with, but you truly were one of a kind and now incredibly important to him. plus, your sense of humor was amusing, even if he’d never admit it.

(for halloween you’d decided to dress up as a classic witch, complete with a black hat and broomstick. somehow, he’d been convinced to join you as a vampire, and diavolo had been a werewolf. it was silly and lowbrow, but he had one of the pictures saved as his phone background.)

“what are you thinking so hard about?” you ask him, drawing him back to the present. a grimoire is open in front of you, and he can see your chicken-scratch handwriting in the margins.

“you,” he replies simply, and you make a face.

“what about me?”

“i didn’t really like you when we first met,” he confesses, “so it’s quite strange how much that has changed.”

“you know, i get that a lot,” you reply, unbothered. “a lot of people find me irritating.”

“i cannot fathom why.”

“oh, shut it,” you chide light-heartedly. “if you keep going i might have to curse you or something.”

the threat, which you used often, was empty, something you both knew. “right,” lucifer says, giving you a smile. “well, we don’t want that. i’ll be on my best behavior from now on, i swear.”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[k3rm1e]

I just had this idea, what if Ranboo and reader are besties. However, since Tommy is jealous jelousinnit of Ranboo for “stealing” Tubbo, he “steals” reader in turn and they too become platonically married.

Maybe after Ranboo and Tubbo learn of the Tommy and reader’s marriage, Ranboo and Tommy are now “competing” for time with Tubbo and reader. Meanwhile reader and Tubbo are just laughing watching this play out? <3

-♠️

jealousinnit

I just had this idea, what if Ranboo and reader are besties. However, since Tommy is jealous jelousinnit of Ranboo for “stealing” Tubbo, he “steals” reader in turn and they too become platonically married.

Maybe after Ranboo and Tubbo learn of the Tommy and reader’s marriage, Ranboo and Tommy are now “competing” for time with Tubbo and reader. Meanwhile reader and Tubbo are just laughing watching this play out? <3

-♠️

dvwefnowef i love this idea! i hope i did it justice <3

cw:cursing 

tommy vs ranboo:

  “hello tubbo! tubbo. tubzo.”  tommy yelled again and again, trying to get tubbo’s attention.

  tommy continued continued yelling his name for a response. pitying the poor boy, you responded “hi tommy.”

  “oh. hello.” tommy made his minecraft character walk over to you. “what is tubbo doing?”

  “uh, he’s arguing with ranboo? about something somewhat important, i presume.”

  “lore married, those two are. strange, innit?” tommy turned his character to look more directly at yours. the eyebrows on the character made him look intimidating, especially with the way he stared at you.

  “yeah. yes. strange. lore married.” the conversation had ended from there, with an awkward silence. after a while tubbo and ranboo had finally stopped fighting.

  it had been a few days since your interaction with tommy. everything had been pretty normal, just hanging out with ranboo and tubbo. helping oversee the building of the mansion. that was, until tommy came and talked to you.

  “uh, hello tommy.”

  “hey. i’m live right now. what are you doing?”

  “uh, nothing really. mainly have been overseeing the build of ranboo and tubbo’s mansion.”

  “close, the two of you are?”

  “yep. i know him irl so i would say, yeah, we’re pretty close.” this was where you started to get a bit questioning.  sure, you had spoken to tommy before, but you two weren’t necessarily close.

  “hey, y’know what i think.” he turned his character to stare at you.

  “no, what do you think tommy?”

  “let’s be friends.”

  tommy proceeded to drag you around the server, getting to know you better. you two had run around quite a bit, and ended up near the badlands. tommy, of course, decided to bring you into his mischief.

  “ok, when bad joins vc, after i say hello you have to say ‘say FUCK badboyhalo’ to him.”

  “doesn’t bad always yell language at everyone? shouldn’t i probably not do that?” you had just recently gotten added to the server and even doing certain things for bits made you nervous.

  “you’ll be fine. now get ready.” once bad joined the vc, tommy yelled “HELLO BADBOYHALO.”

  “well, hello to the two of you. how are you both doing?”

  without taking the time to answer you yelled, “BADBOYHALO SAY FUCK!”

  tommy immediately began laughing. bad’s character was running around and you could hear him stuttering until finally shouting “LANGUAGE!”

  “oh come on, bbh. it just adds more impacts to what you’re saying. imagine you were saying ‘i hate that muffinhead skeppy so much’. isn’t it much more impactful when you say ‘i hate that BITCH skeppy so FUCKING much!’?” even though you couldn’t see his facecam, you could tell how much he was smirking.

  “LANGUAGE TOMMY!” bad was screaming and from his voice he seemed to be fuming.

  catching onto what tommy was planning, you started for him, “seriously bad,  what do you have against saying a few curse words? FUCK, SHIT, BITCH, ASS, PUSSY.” you and tommy both began screaming curse words at bad until you heard him scream and leave the vc.

  and for the next few weeks, that was how it went. you two caused chaos all across the server, getting on everyone’s nerves. phil had quickly deemed you ‘chaos gremlins sent to drive him even further into his old age’. at least kristen appreciated the two of you.

  “phil, what are taxes?” tommy had asked phil.

  after hearing him mutter a quick “jesus christ…”, he gave tommy an answer, “pretty much shit you have to pay because the government said to.”

  “and is there any way to pay less taxes? y’know, cheat the system?” tommy was quickly driving phil to old age.

  “well, marriage gives you tax benefits.”

  “ooo!” tommy turned his minecraft character towards you, “marry me! for tax benefits!”

  and so there was a new platonically married couple on the server.

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

  ranboo had noticed your lack of presence. instead of showing up in his streams, you were usually doing something with tommy. the two of you had even gotten married, the same way he and tubbo had. jealousy, even when irrational, was still a very real and present thing.

  which is what led him to be standing outside your minecraft house, waiting for you to stop talking to tommy for a second and answer his in chat messages. for five whole minutes, he had to deal with chat clowning on him. “chat, i have never been replaced. they simply cannot replace me. there is no way to get rid of me.”

  “you’re like mold!” tubbo had joined ranboo’s vc. his energy heavily contrasted the other’s.

  “...tubbo, how am i like mold?”

  “you’re just constantly growing on people! holding on for dear life until an exterminator is called! do i need to call an exterminator on you?”

  “...no thank you, tubbo.”

  finally, you and tommy had joined vc. “hello ranboo!”

  “hello! what took so long?” the agitation in his voice was barely detectable.

  “oh, tommy here was being pissy. didn’t want to leave vc2.”

  “so tommy was stopping you from talking to your friends?” ranboo clicked his tongue and jokingly said, “seems a bit, uh well, toxic, to me.”

  tommy quickly erupted into screams. “HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF BEING A TOXIC FRIEND?”

  “I WASN’T ACCUSING YOU OF ANYTHING, WAS JUST STATING MY OPINION!” ranboo had started screaming back.

  “IF YOU WANNA SEE TOXIC, I’LL SHOW YOU TOXIC RANBOO.” you could distantly hear an 8 bit version of toxic by britney spears playing from tubbos mic.

  “OH SHUT UP TOMMY, PLEASE, I’VE BEEN FRIENDS WITH THEM FOR LONGER.”

  “BITCH, PLEASE. JUST BECUASE YOU’VE KNOWN THEM LONGER DOES MAKE YOU BETTER FRIENDS. WE’RE MARRIED, WE ARE.”

  and from there, the screaming continued. In-game chat, you could see tubbo telling you to join vc6.

  “crazy, that lot is.”

  “agreed.”

thank you for waiting! i’m sorry this took so long, i’ve been visiting family for easter and haven’t really been able to write. i hope you enjoyed this, though! <3

[taiturner]

Immediately starting it off with a difficult one, top five Luther moments :)

I knew I’d immediately be hit with this and it was going to hurt me so (deep breaths) okay, luckily I just recently went on a marathon of giffing all my favorite moments in seasons 1-2, so links included :) — I WILL be thinking about this for the next week cursing myself for forgetting some of my favorite moments, but I’m going with my gut and what stuck out to me immediately when I read this.  (Also this would be a lot different if I was solely talking about his funny/lighthearted moments because there are so many but I’m going for the emotional ones here / the ones that really made me connect with him as a character).

Putting this under a read more because I cannot shut up about my little (big) guy.  I also simply cannot order these top 5 either, so <3

 2x06: “Look at what you did to me.” Oof. I know people probably think he was ridiculous for this, but I can’t think of a moment (besides some of the confrontations he has with Reginald in late season 3) that makes me more proud of Luther. Because we see him work through this in season 1 - he brushes off the body alteration with “Dad saved my life,” like he can’t think of it any other way, but we gradually start to see him change his mind about that and realize that it’s actually okay for him to resent his father for what he did to him, because he did not ask for it. He is not in debt for that. And like Allison says afterwards - it’s the first time she’s ever heard him stand up to Dad, and he smiles so big because even though it didn’t do much to Reginald other than make him look back at Luther with disdain, it’s such a weight off Luther’s shoulders and I think that’s a feeling he always remembers. He takes the confidence in that moment and he holds onto it and he does not let Reginald look down on him again. Also, the quote from Tom Hopper in the gifset I linked is so special to me.

2x05: His whole talk with Diego after their first family reunion. There are so many good quotes in this but my favorites are, “Dad told you you’re a hero, he told all of us, but what if he lied? What if we’re just a bunch of freaks who have no business changing the world for everyone else?”  + my personal favorite Luther quote, when Diego asks him “Since when are you a quitter?” and Luther responds, “Since the last time I destroyed the world by overestimating my own importance.” There are people who still despise Luther for what he did to Viktor in season 1, as if he’s never self reflected on it - but this line is SO telling. He didn’t blame Viktor for destroying the world, he blamed himself. He blamed what he did to Viktor, no one else. And we know that it’s not on him - but I think it’s really important that he’s not only taking accountability for his part in it, but he also has tried to change his approach to everything. He’s not trying to be the leader anymore just because he’s supposed to be, he’s not trying to force the answers or solutions just because he feels like he has to. He’s taken a step back and realized that when he’s not the leader, they’re all better off. I also just think that any moment of self reflection between him and Diego is really special, because Reginald pit them against each other for a reason - but they found a way through to each other and they’re so much better off working together.

2x02: Luther’s apology to Viktor. I love his apology to Viktor because he has absolutely no idea what he’s getting into - Viktor almost killed him and the rest of his siblings the last time he saw them, he had no idea what was going on for Viktor now and if he still had that anger, but he also knew that anger would be valid. And -  the last time he saw him, he was holding him in his arms and then suddenly, poof, they were dispersed through time. He’s going through so many emotions when he sees Viktor again - confusion, sadness, relief, but mostly guilt.  Like I said in my answer about Diego - it does not matter that Viktor ended the world, he knows he played a part in it and he’s owning up to that. “I thought it was my job to keep everyone safe, and I just made it all worse - I never wanted to be the bad guy” - he did what he did because he thought he was protecting his family, but he wasn’t protecting everyone, and he can’t forgive himself for that - which makes his interactions with Viktor in season 2 + season 3 so special, because he is actively trying to hear him, support him, advocate for him. He let him down and he never forgot that. But I think what really gets me about this interaction is the way he tells Viktor that if he’s bullshitting him about not knowing who he is, he doesn’t care, because if he’s hiding out then he understands. It’s just really validating to Viktor imo that Luther understands that the family did not treat him right, and if he wants to pretend they don’t exist, that’s fair. He is extending a careful hand - Viktor is in control, Luther is not going to force him to be in the family if that’s not what Viktor wants, even if it’s what Luther wants because he wants to make it up to him. This whole conversation is just so good and I was on the edge of my seat watching it for the first time. Again, it says so much about Luther’s development, given so much of season 1 was him deciding things because he thought he had to and ultimately making the wrong choices/hurting someone in the process. Admitting he was the bad guy was a huge turn for him. Also, bringing 2x03: Adding Viktor asking Luther what ended the world into this one because my thoughts bleed into it - he was so soft in his explanation and there’s something really special about he and Five’s different approaches to this. They were both being soft with Viktor, they were both trying to protect him. For Luther, he saw what Viktor needed in that moment, and he also needed to own up to the fact that it was not just on Viktor again. I’m forever upset that Ruby interrupted them.

1x07: “I want to be Number Four.” The Klaus/Luther dynamic is really special to me and it probably really started in this scene. Obviously Luther had been a bit hostile with Klaus and brushed him off for a lot of things - but it wasn’t out of malice or hatred or anything. He and Klaus are just so different in their personalities that he just never really understood him. I feel like, especially as teenagers, they couldn’t be more different - Klaus going out, meeting people, going to parties, etc., vs. Luther not fully understanding at the time why that even mattered - compared to present day when that’s what he wants, to have friends and to meet people outside of his siblings and have a life like Klaus did. Back to my point - he may not have always treated Klaus kindly, but there’s a certain level of respect he has for him that really isn’t revealed until here. He wasn’t resentful of Klaus having that life outside of the Academy - he was jealous of it. He thinks of Klaus as someone carefree who can just live his life without anything weighing him down (of course that’s not true for Klaus, but there’s validation in Luther no longer acting like that’s Klaus’s downfall).  Also just this whole sequence means so much to me - from Klaus immediately getting serious once he realized why Luther wants to be like him, to Luther being completely vulnerable with Klaus yet saying he doesn’t want the rest of their siblings to see him like that, to Klaus immediately validating his pain and agreeing with him, to Klaus taking the first opportunity he gets to call Reginald out for hurting him. Everything, all of it, I love them. Also I’m sneaking this moment from 2x10 into this answer and you can’t stop me - but at the end, when they’re about to head back to 2019, Klaus stops because he wants to grab the cowboy hat. Luther looks at him so confused yet so fascinated too. Klaus just fascinates him. He doesn’t understand why he does the things he does but he loves him exactly the way he is and wouldn’t ever want him to change.

2x03:  Luther is on a run and sees kids cheering him on, yelling “King Kong” excitedly. This moment is just so important to me because ‘King Kong’ is clearly not an alias that he chose or was comfortable with; it’s so derogatory and exploitive (as is anything of the nature, monkey-man, ape-man, etc.) But especially with why it’s used - it was used to exploit him and his body / the body alteration that he did not ask for or consent to having. And Luther’s dynamic with Jack is not the same as it was with Reginald, yet he clung to him in a similar way - and yet again, Luther was being used as someone’s weapon, something to exploit. But there’s this moment with the kids cheering him on that suddenly makes that alias feel okay, because it’s almost like he’s the superhero that everyone loved again. They’re just kids, and they’re looking at him like he’s a hero, and in a very brief moment in time, that’s really comforting to him, even if the alias is still not okay. It’s such a small moment but it just means so much to me that he got one small moment of peace with it. I think about this so often.

I also need to add Luther/Five/Five in 2x08-09 + Klaus and Luther in the Void in 3x10, just in general. I can’t list favorite moment from these scenes because they’re all so fun for me and the biggest serotonin boosts of TUA. Five and Klaus are probably my two favorite Luther dynamics - there’s so much resonation between him and Five and their similar (yet still wildly different) experiences, and so much respect between him and Klaus for their very different experiences. Also, I still quote “He’s just a little guy” every single day. 

Mind if I cheat... honorable mentions because I can’t help myself. 1x03 describing what the moon was like to Allison, how he’s able to put it so eloquently despite the fact that those years were horribly dark and destructive for him (this probably belongs in my top 5 but I am stressed). 1x04 in the flashback when he tells Reginald he is the only one left, because it’s the first hint we get from Reginald that it was clear he was starting to worry that Luther might leave. 2x10 to Lila “Love shouldn’t have to hurt this much,” validating not only her but really recognizing his own experience. 1x05 his conversations with Five at Diego’s + in the car + shielding him from the bullet. 2x10 + 2x01 when he uses his body as a shield to protect his siblings. 3x03 when he compliments Viktor’s hair and is insistent on wanting to welcome him in as brothers. 3x10 after the universe reset and he notices his body and calls it “my body” because it’s finally his again and not what Reginald turned him into. 3x09 in the moon sequence when we learn that his depression started not even a year into being on the moon which brings so much of his arc in season 1 even more into perspective + also the moment he touches the photo of his siblings (And I stand firmly by the fact that he brought Viktor’s book with him so he had a piece of him too). 3x08 asking Viktor to be his best man, kissing Klaus on the forehead, “Tonight is all I ever wanted, just everyone coming together when it really matters, one big, real family.” 2x07(?) telling Allison their best quality as a family is hope because it just shifts the tone of the series for me and I love it. 2x06 when he calls Diego out for not using the conch because it was Viktor’s suggestion and he wants to make sure Viktor was heard. 2x01 with Five saying he doesn’t give a shit about saving the world because it’s major character development and aligns well with the quote I mentioned on my previous answer about overestimating his own importance. 1x09 when Allison’s injured and he talks about his own experience in waking up in a place he does not recognize not feeling like himself. 3x09 getting to vote ‘no’ because it meant Reginald couldn’t use him as the weapon he trained him to be anymore (+ continued on in their conversation before Reginald kills him). 1x06/07 when he finds his dad’s unopened reports. 3x02 when he tells Sloane that his family fell apart after Ben died and even he stopped caring. 1x01 when he runs away from the fight with Diego, not because he’s hurt, but because he’s afraid of his body being exposed. 3x10 when he gets to be the hero because he rarely does so it was such a satisfying moment for him + he gets to tell off Reginald again.  If I don’t stop here I will list 96% of his scenes, and I’ve already cheated plenty. 

Okay TLDR: He means so much to me. Thank you for torturing me with this question.

[deltaruiner]

Ok so, my favorites are:

(Lots of Sayaka themes in this)

Witch World #2 (the theme in the scene with Elsa Maria in the movies), i especislly liked the the repeat of the verse when Elsa Maria knocks Sayaka to the heavens, the change in the intensity really shows how Sayaka always forces herself to stay on the same path (verse) even when it sbsolutely brutalizes heri really love that scene!! Elsa Maria is also so far the only witch that felt like she is actually saying to herself "im gonna kill you" against the girls, the rest all felt somewhat either unaware of themselves or unthreatening tbh, and the music with Elsa's outburst really cements her as my favorite scene n song evah

also THE LOW STRINGS AAAAA the dissonance between decretum absolutely SCREAMING at high notes and the low ones feel like a desperate cry being supressed when the low instruments are playing their high notes, it really makes ot feel like a limit is being Pushed

My next favorite is Something, Everything, is Wrong along with all leitmotif songs of Mada Dame Yo, the song really gives me a vibe of cheerful yet hiding something in some versions, and twisted fairy tale vibes in others.

Mada Dame Yo itself is also a favorite, its a song that confidently "banishes" Nightmares, but also kind of comes out of nowhere in its style and the voice doesnt match any of the characters or previous songs, which makes it a lot like a witch theme (homura's!) despite being in a point where we dont even suspect witches

I loved Symposium Magarum, the repeating and loud orchestra hits really give me a "Sayaka isolating from the outside" or her saying "SHUT UP" vibes

lyric version of Sagitta Luminis just made me straight up cry, its so bittersweet and highlights just how wrong the situation is yet how wonderful what was done is and starts a new beginning and-

i dont think i need to explain why i like Decretum and Credens Justitiam

Magia really gives the vibe Homura lives by, aka, being incredibly metal yet still unable to push back despair and still being a "losing" theme despite being so hardcore and full ot determined lyrics

Connect, both the regular version and the show credits orchestra version, just make me wanna run forwards and never look back despite ANY obstacle, and just have sooooo much courage in themmmm

Same with the Holy Quintet theme from the group transformation in rebellion, it just captures all of them so well. ofc i especially love Sayaka's part bc im a sucker for my blue daughter and her and her stupid little heroic themes..... grah......

my heart cannot explain what She is a Witch does to me... it's such a burst of despair and you can't take it anymore so you curse everything around...

Human Bullet is just very unrelenting like Kyoukos personality

Confessio is very old in vibe and feels like an unapproachable monolith of a mindset formed many years ago

just like Kyoukos personality since the Incident! (i love her stubborn self)

And I'm Home just straight up killed me i will not start on this just see how i write about kyousaya

see above for Kimino Ginno Niwa but change to madohomu it just takes all of their journey and elegantly drop bombs it on you in a condensed package trimmed of everything else to maximise emotional grief like Yuki Kaijura composed it while possesed by the Incubator himself

And finally, Flame of despair...

the motifs of Oktavia's theme to show Homura finally understands what it's like to really lose it ALL... Fort/Da in the background of the scene because she simply Must pretend she is in control to simply EXIST.... the back and forth between the instruments giving ballet vibes and a ferling of chasing something which always will escape, doing so alone withe the lonely single instrument beats in between... im ILLLL

.

Anyway i like almost all songs and probs forgot a few i really like but yeah :D

watched madoka amvs and osts for 4 hours it is early morning and i have yet to sleep send rescue

[gossamer-sky]

Hi! I saw your requests were open again and I got too excited 😊 but I was wondering if you could just make like random nsfw hc for Comte , Leonardo , Arthur and Theo. Could range from anything. I’ll let you decide. Thank you so much 💕

Ahh thank you so much for this request (and your patience)! This was so fun to do; I just went with some of my main headcanons for each character, so I hope you enjoy! 💓💓

Comte:

- Tries so hard to be a gentleman because his inclinations are so decidedly vulgar (although he will cling to the facade with every ounce of his self control until you rip it from his grasp)

- Truthfully, he wants you all the time; clenching his fists to keep from tearing at your clothes, the thump of blood at your pulse points causing an unholy ache in his throat that cannot be quenched

- He wants to destroy you in the best way imaginable; if you manage to push him to this point, he’ll fuck you with near-desperate mania (exactly in the way you crave, like he’s stripping you down to your most base desires and then piecing you back together)

- After, when some semblance of rational thought reenters his conscious, he’ll kiss every mark left on your body of which there are many

- It’s also nearly impossible for him to edge you on purpose, preferring to instead make you come until you’re shaking and gasping his name in a shivering loop

- Life is just so very decadent with him, and he turns you into a wanton thing by just the brush of his fingertips

Leonardo:

- The most cocky, incorrigible man, and it’s so fucking attractive

- Knows exactly the effect he has on you; smirking from across the table as he watches you shift in your chair, unable to find a position that doesn’t remind you of how hard he was pounding into you the night before

- Will croon in your ear about how easy you are for him, even as he’s knuckle deep, kissing your cheek sweetly - a direct contrast to the utter depravity leaving his mouth, the slick twist of his fingers inside you

- Describes in detail how your body feels, how you’re gripping him so tightly that you must not want to let him go

- Of course he’s aware of how you love the sound of his voice, the low curses he lets slip out the longer he fingers you sloppy

- It’s maddeningly easy to give control over to him; he’ll tease you about it at first, get you blushing and almost shy

- It’s always worth it though, because you know firsthand how lewd he’s going to make you feel later on

Arthur:

- You genuinely worry that you’re never going to want to do anything other than have sex with him ever again

- He will absolutely dedicate entire afternoons just to eating you out; and holy fuck is he good at it

- Touches you everywhere, his seemingly tireless tongue working in firm, controlled circles until you’re grabbing at his hair and nearing full-on screams

- Makes it his own personal mission to discover how many times you can orgasm back to back

- However, he sometimes gets so caught up in bringing you pleasure that you basically have to pin him down to return the favour

- For all of his big talk, he is so easily undone by you; a slow pace makes his eyes go hazy, hands gripping onto your hips for dear life, blotchy red staining his cheeks and spreading all the way down his neck

- Say his name like a prayer and ask him to fill you up; he’ll shoot almost immediately, head tilted back into the pillows, sharp groan tearing out of his chest

- He bites your neck with brutal gentleness when he’s recovered, and each heavy swallow of his throat has you rubbing against his thigh, mind going blank

Theo:

- God he is such a bastard, and he just adores when you give it right back to him, eyes blazing, angry flush high on your cheeks

- It makes him want to fuck you. Immediately.

- Any banter at that point has the ability to set him off, and he’ll give you no warning before taking your mouth, hands sliding to your waist, thumbs pressing at your ribs (and it’s simply not fair how right his touch is, how his big hands get you so hot under your skin)

- The fiery chemistry you have needs no coaxing to consume you both, and he’ll often just shove you into any semi-private location and bend you over the nearest flat surface

- Grinning like he’s won when he finds you already dripping down your legs, chuckling low against your shoulders when you tell him to shut the fuck up and get inside you

- And he loves to look, spreading you open to see how well your hole stretches for his cock (you get lightheaded if you think on that for too long, he’s so thick)

- Often runs his thumb around where you’re wrapped snug on him - you both have to stifle moans at that

***inbox closed***

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