#i speak my mind too freely sometimes

[harmcityherald]

after dinner coffee and a new cigar on my back stoop. sure, I'm gonna die. we're all gonna die. but I get to vote a few more times. mwaha °blows smoke rings in the wind below a beautiful moon°

speaking out makes you a target.

but silence makes you a slave.

[idkyetxoxo]

Cregan Stark - Frozen Ties

Summary - Forced into a marriage to secure alliances, she navigates the confines of her new life facing emotional turmoil and a complicated relationship. An unexpected act of kindness from her husband kindles hope, making her reconsider their union and find warmth in the icy politics.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x Targaryen reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2437

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Mother, this is absurd! You can't promise me to him, you can't just send me away like this," I cried, my voice breaking as tears spilt down my cheeks. 

I stood before my weary mother, who wrung her hands together anxiously, her face etched with sorrow.

"My sweet daughter, I wish things were different, but this is necessary," she said, her voice heavy with regret. "You must marry him. We need the North's support."

"They have already declared for Rhaenyra," I protested, frustration making my voice tremble. I knew all too well how Aemond's newfound power had corrupted him.

"Does he truly think I can change Lord Stark's mind?" I continued, her hands gently cupping my face as she wiped away my tears.

"You know what Aemond is," she said softly.

"A monster," I mumbled, and she sighed deeply.

"That is not how you should speak about your king," a voice cut through our despair. We both turned to the door, where Aemond stood, composed and authoritative, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You, dear sister, will fulfil your duties as required," he said, advancing toward us with purposeful strides.

"I don't want to," I said defiantly. Aemond's face darkened with fury, his eye narrowing into a cold, merciless slit. He snatched my chin with a brutal grip, his fingers digging into my skin like talons, forcing me to meet his unyielding gaze. 

Alicent gasped, calling out his name in alarm, moving swiftly to try and intervene.

"Do as you're told and ensure he listens, or you'll be of no use to this family," Aemond commanded, shoving me back with a harshness that made me stumble. 

Tears flowed freely as I stared at the ground. 

My fate was sealed, and there was nothing left for me to do but accept it.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The icy winds of the North tore through my cloak, each gust slicing into my skin like a blade. The endless expanse of snow and the pale, unforgiving sky mirrored the numbness that had taken root in my heart, where warmth and hope had once dwelled.

Each step toward Winterfell felt heavier, burdened by the weight of my impending marriage.

Upon arrival, I was met with a formal courtesy that did little to ease my anxiety. Winterfell, with its majestic yet unwelcoming presence, felt like a fortress of cold indifference. The great halls, silent and vast, bore witness to my inner turmoil.

Lord Cregan Stark awaited me in his dining hall, a brooding figure amidst the cold stone and flickering hearth. I entered with a mixture of trepidation and resolve. 

As he rose from his seat, his gaze was steady and unreadable.

"Lord Stark," I began, my voice trembling slightly but firm, "I need to understand why you agreed to this marriage. You have already pledged your support to Rhaenyra. How can you reconcile this with what's being forced upon me?"

He regarded me thoughtfully, his eyes reflecting years of experience and wisdom despite his youth. He gestured for me to take a seat across from him, and I did so, my heart pounding in my chest.

"When I pledged my support to Princess Rhaenyra, it was with the hope of ensuring stability and peace for the realm. Yet, the realm's stability is fragile, easily disturbed by shifting allegiances and the ambitions of those in power."

I leaned forward, gripping the armrests of my chair. "But why this marriage? Why agree to something that feels like a betrayal to your cause and to me?"

His expression softened, and he leaned back, considering his words. "In the intricate dance of politics, difficult choices must sometimes be made. This marriage, though forced, is intended to secure a delicate balance. The North's support is crucial, but so is the stability of our alliances. A strong marriage alliance can offer more security than mere pledges of support."

"But at what cost?" I asked, my voice trembling as a fresh wave of fear gripped my heart. "At the cost of my happiness and dignity?"

He looked at me with sympathy and resolve. "Sacrifices are often necessary for the greater good. I understand the personal toll this takes on you, and it is not a decision made lightly but it is my duty to ensure the North remains a steadfast ally, and this marriage is part of that duty."

I stared at him, struggling to reconcile his words with my reality. The burden of my impending marriage, the personal sacrifice, and the political manoeuvring felt overwhelming.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

A month had passed since our wedding, and the reality of my new life had settled in with an unrelenting chill. Each day felt like a repetition of the last, my existence reduced to a monotonous cycle of needlework and solitary moments with the horses. 

The stark beauty of the North, once so captivating, now seemed to mock me with its cold indifference.

I spent my mornings hunched over delicate threads, my fingers moving with mechanical precision. Needlework, though a distraction, was a constant reminder of how far removed I was from the life I once imagined.

In the afternoons, I would find myself wandering to the stables, seeking the comfort of the horses. Their warmth and calm offered brief solace from my sorrow. I cherished them, knowing they were the closest I would ever get to the dragon I longed to see again. 

As I brushed their coats, the tenderness in my touch reflected my deep yearning for connection. Yet, despite their gentle company, they could not fill the void left by my unmet desires and the strained nature of my marriage.

The horses, though beloved, were not my dragon.

Evenings were the hardest. As night fell and shadows lengthened across Winterfell, I retreated to my chambers with a heavy heart. 

The bed that once promised comfort now felt like a cage, and sleep came with difficulty. I would lie there, staring at the cold stone walls, my thoughts racing through a labyrinth of regret and despair.

Cregan, despite his stoic demeanour, was not blind to my misery. He saw the weariness in my movements and the sorrow in my eyes. He knew that the woman he had married had become a shadow, trapped in a life she had never chosen.

One evening, as I prepared for bed, I heard a soft knock on my chamber door. Cregan entered without waiting for an invitation, his presence a contrast to the cold, impersonal walls of my room. 

"May I join you?" he asked gently, though an underlying tension lingered.

I nodded, and he sat beside me, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that belied his usual composure.

"It's been a month," he began, his tone measured yet empathetic. "And I can see how this life has taken its toll on you."

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. "You have no reason to concern yourself with my happiness, Lord Stark. I am here to fulfil my duties, not to seek solace."

"That's not entirely true," he said softly. "You are my wife, and it is my duty to ensure you are content, or at least as content as possible in this harsh land."

I sighed, the words catching in my throat. "This life is a cage, and I am its prisoner. I find no joy in my days, no comfort in my nights. I am lost in a place that is not my home, with a future that was never mine to choose."

He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on mine. His touch was warm, a contrast to the cold that had settled in my heart. "I understand this is not what you envisioned. But perhaps, if you allow it, we could find a way to make this arrangement more bearable."

I looked at him, my heart aching with a mix of gratitude and scepticism. "What can be done? I am bound to this life, and it feels as though my desires and dreams are nothing more than echoes in the wind."

"I am a dragon, I am blood and fire," I declared with a fervent intensity, my voice echoing the fierce spirit within me. "You are ice and snow. We were never meant to be." 

The words seemed to strike him deeply, causing a visible pain to cross his features.

His eyes met mine, filled with sadness and something softer, perhaps understanding. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"Perhaps we weren't meant to be," he conceded, his voice low but firm. "But here we are, bound by vows, by duty, by the threads of fate. And I refuse to believe that fate is so cruel as to leave us without choices."

I scoffed, a bitter smile curling my lips. "Choices? What choices do I have? I did not choose to come here, nor to marry you. Everything was decided for me—by kings, by lords, by the whims of men who never cared to ask what I wanted."

He flinched, as though struck, but his hand remained steady on mine.

For a moment, there was only the sound of our breathing, heavy and uneven. The tension between us was undeniable, a taut string ready to snap. 

His eyes bored into mine, his frustration clear but his sincerity even clearer.

"Then tell me," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to steady it. "What is it you want from me, Lord Stark? What is it you truly desire?"

He hesitated, his expression softening as he seemed to search for the right words. "I want... I want us to find a way to coexist, to find a small measure of peace in this storm. I want us to try, together, to build something from the ashes of what we were forced to leave behind."

The words hung in the cold air between us, carrying both a challenge and a plea. I could feel my defences wavering, the walls I'd built around myself beginning to crack. I wanted to dismiss him, to cling to my anger as if it were a shield, but a small part of me buried deep beneath the resentment yearned for something more than this constant battle.

He watched me closely, waiting. I turned my gaze away, my heart heavy, unsure what to believe anymore.

"It might please you to know," he began, his voice carefully measured, "that I have made arrangements for Silverwing to be brought here."

I stiffened, my heart stumbling over itself at the unexpected words.

"What?" I asked, unable to hide the astonishment in my voice. I searched his face for any sign of deception but found none, only a quiet, earnest expression.

His smile widened just a fraction, his eyes holding a glimmer of hope. "I have had my men prepare the likes of a dragon pit to house Silverwing. It should be ready soon enough."

Before I could fully process the relief and joy that surged through me, I found myself instinctively pulling him into an embrace. The news of Silverwing's impending arrival filled me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and happiness. 

The thought of being reunited with my dragon, my closest companion, was a balm to the loneliness that had marked my days.

He chuckled softly, his arms encircling me with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the chill of Winterfell. The sting of regret crept in for the harshness I had shown him mere minutes ago, for pushing him away when he had only tried to reach out.

As I pulled away slightly, I met his gaze with sincere eyes, the fire within me dimming to embers.

"I apologize," I said, my voice laced with earnestness. "I don't mean to suggest that you have been cruel to me. On the contrary, you have shown me a kindness that I didn't expect. Many men would not have endured their wives' coldness and indifference as you have."

His expression softened, and he nodded in understanding. "I meant it when I said that I do not wish this union to be a dreadful one. You are my wife, and I am your husband. Despite our differences, it is important that we strive to understand each other."

I sighed, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. Perhaps I had been unfair in my judgments. 

Throughout the past month, he had never forced me into anything I wasn't willing to do. His patience and compassion had been genuine, and I began to see the depth of his character beyond the surface of our arranged marriage.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward once more and leaned down, pressing my lips to his in a kiss. It was a kiss of new beginnings, of understanding and tentative acceptance. 

In that moment, it felt as though we were discovering each other anew, exploring the possibilities of what our union could become.

The kiss deepened, each touch and caress reflecting a newfound willingness to bridge the gap between us. As we finally parted, the air between us seemed lighter, filled with the promise of a more hopeful future. 

With a tender smile, I looked into his eyes and took a courageous step. 

"Perhaps," I said softly, "if you are willing, you could stay with me tonight. We could share the same room, just to see what it might feel like."

His eyes warmed with surprise and appreciation. "I'd like that," he replied, his tone sincere. "I'll stay with you."

As we settled into the bed together, the room was bathed in the soft glow of a single candle. The warmth of his presence beside me was a comforting contrast to the coldness that had previously defined our interactions. We lay quietly for a moment, adjusting to the new closeness.

Cregan's voice broke the silence, a thoughtful note in his tone. "Would you like to go hunting with me next week? It might be a chance for us to spend some time together outside of these walls."

The idea of joining him for a hunt was enticing, and I smiled at the thought. "Yes, I would like that very much," I replied, my voice soft with genuine interest.

He smiled back, a sense of relief and anticipation in his eyes. "Then it's settled. We'll go hunting next week."

As we lay next to each other, the shared warmth and the promise of the coming adventure created a sense of closeness that had been missing for so long. 

The night was filled with a quiet intimacy, and as sleep began to claim us, I felt a glimmer of hope for the future we might build together. 

In this cold land of ice and snow, perhaps there was room for warmth, connection, and the kind of companionship that could grow into something truly meaningful.

A/n - Get you a man who builds you a dragon pit cause you miss your little beast

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Hellooo! I love love love your writing, you're so incredibly talented!! I just got my period and I'm in so much pain (sorry if it's tmi), but all I have on my mind is Cregan Stark (i'm obsessed) -- so I just got this idea: what if the reader is supposed to do some of her duties in Winterfell, but she just got her period? And besides the pain she's feeling, she's also disappointed she isn't pregnant yet. She doesn't want to tell Cregan how much pain she's in, knowing he's so strong and thinking he would judge her and lose respect for her, so she tries to go on with her duties, but he notices something is wrong. After he talks to her about it, and figures out what's wrong, what if he cancels all the plans of the day just to lay with her and comfort her? And she's shocked he would do something like that for her.

I'm sorry if this made you uncomfortable, and if you don't want to write it, I understand! Thank you so much!!

love love love this... as a girl with painful periods, i just need to be held. i hope i delivered well! wc: 1.2k

warnings: crying, mentions of childbearing, mentions of throwing up and bleeding, cregan is a big softie and loves his wife, cregan stark fucks (implied)

You woke up feeling the cold, empty space next to you. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the light. Feeling a sharp pain in your stomach, your hand shot up to it. You swung yourself out of bed quickly, running to the nearest bucket.

Your handmaiden entered just in time to see you throw up. Rushing to your side, she helped you clean up. As she helped to change your clothes, you noticed a red splotch in your small clothes.

A tear ran down your face. You had started bleeding, which meant you weren’t pregnant. For nearly a moon now, you and Cregan tried your hardest to have children, but you can see your efforts had been wasted.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

You were collapsed on the floor, you turned your head to your handmaiden, tears in your eyes, “Tell me, speak freely please… what do you think Cregan will say when he finds out I cannot make an heir for him?”

Your handmaiden was only slightly older than you, but you could tell she was full of knowledge. She was a full northerner, seeing many winters and understanding the life there. She helped to guide you through the customs of the North and had taken up a maternal role in your life.

She came down to your level, sitting down next to you, placing a hand on your back, “You are still young, Lady Stark. You have much time still. Pregnancy does not always come easy. I do not think Lord Stark will see you any differently, he married you for love, not childbearing. He will not see you as any less because you did not become with child very quickly.”

“But what if he decides that there is another lady, a northern lady, more equipped to carry his children? What if he wishes to bed another?”

“Lord Stark is the most loyal man out there. He would not break your oath of marriage because you are not pregnant yet,” she wiped your tears from your face, “You are too in your own head, my lady.”

You nodded, smiling softly, “I suppose you are right, but please do not tell him about my bleeding. I do not want him to know.”

“I think it would be best to tell him—”

“No,” you stood, wiping the dust off your gown, “And that is a command.”

Your lady stood, nodding at your request, “Whatever pleases you, Lady Stark.”

Taking a breath you walked to the doors, “I will continue with my duties today, and you will not speak of what happened this morn.”

“Of course, Lady Stark.”

Every moon you bled, there was lots of pain to follow, mostly in your stomach and sometimes in your lower back. Recently, the pain has gotten worse, almost debilitatingly so. It was not smart of you to take on more than you needed to.

You made your way around Winterfell, trying to fulfil your duties to the best of your abilities. In the kitchens, you oversaw the food preparation. During this, it was the first time the employees of your castle noticed the change in your behavior.

You walked around the kitchen when a sudden sharp pain hit your stomach. You grabbed onto the counter with one hand, and grabbed at your stomach with the other. Your face contorted in pain and a quiet hiss came out of your mouth.

Many rushed to your side, “My lady, are you alright?”

You pushed each one away, feeling the pain subside. Sucking in a sharp breath, you stood straight again, “I am fine.”

Leaving the kitchens quickly you decided to oversee the training yards, hoping not to run into your husband quite yet. You made your way to the ground level, watching a couple small children practice fighting with wooden swords.

You watched them, the slightest hint of pain ghosted along your features. You didn’t notice your husband watching your figure from behind you. He startled you, coming up to hug your waist, inadvertently causing pain to your stomach.

Wincing slightly, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing you gently. You tried your hardest to hide your pain, but Cregan always knows when there is something wrong, to your dismay.

“Is there something amiss, wife?”

You removed his hands from you, turning to face him, and kissing him gently.

“Why would there be? I am here with you.”

He looked at you skeptically, but returned your kiss.

You could not let him find out about your pain, he is the strongest man you know. You feared he might think less of you if he knew of your menial pain, you are sure he has endured much worse beyond the wall or during the wintertimes.

Your husband holds great respect for the strongest of his men, so if he found out about your inability to go on with your daily chores during the time of your bleeding, he might not think you worthy of his love or respect.

“I must go, I have things to tend to around the castle.”

“You cannot take a moment away from your duties to spend with your husband?”

“Cregan, really, I should go.”

He has never seen you so hasty to leave his side. He watched as you nearly ran from him. Instead of staying put he followed behind you, ending the chase at your shared bed chambers.

He entered, nodding at the guards posted outside.

“Why do you run from me?”

You turned, wiping the tears that fell from your face, “Cregan? What are you doing here? I’m sure you have many more important matters—”

“I do not. Tell me what is the matter, my girl.”

“There is nothing,” you stepped away from him and towards your bed, holding your stomach in pain.

He noticed your actions and came to sit on the bed, “Have you started bleeding today?”

You looked away from him, embarrassed. He took you hand, “Do not shy away from me, there is nothing to be embarassed of.”

You turned to meet his eyes, “But it means I am not with child! I cannot bear an heir and I am weak with my pains. I am not deserving to even be near you.”

He looked at you with a largly concered expression, his brows were furrowed so hard they almost touched. He pulled you onto his lap, “Not deserving? If anything, it is I who is not deserving of you. I have seen many men in my times and yet none of them are as strong as you. You are bleeding from the inside and you still are trying to force yourself to do dull tasks.”

He wipes your tears, “Do not fret about carrying our child, we have only been trying for a bit of time now.”

“But I do not want to disappoint you.”

“Nothing could ever make me disappointed in you, my girl. I promise.”

You sniffled, leaning into him, “You should get back to the training yard, I’m sure your men need you more than I.”

“No. We are going to stay here today, I will tell the guards at the door to inform the rest of the castle.”

“Cregan! You cannot!”

“I can do whatever I wish, I am the Warden of the North and the Lord of Winterfell,” he smiled at you lovingly, kissing the tip of your nose.

After discarding his duties for the day, he came and layed with you in bed, snuggling up close. After your week of hells was over, it was safe to say that you did not have to worry about bleeding again for the next nine moons.

————

taglist: @wolvestitches

[lorelune]

regency au jing yuan how you are haunting me.

(continued here!)

a retired general who at the ripe age of thirty five has never taken a wife. never showed any interest in procuring a spouse nor does he entertain any attempts by the mamas of the ton to throw their eligible children at him. he is a polite scoundrel, kind-hearted in a way that makes those with half a mind question how someone with his demeanor could ever be the famed general who's strategies downed Shuhu during the Abundance Upheaval. he doesn't seem to care for his legacy, as much as he has cultivated one. he doesn't mind gossip, but doesn't entertain it much either.

you only meet him due to fortunate circumstances.

lord Luocha, a successful travelling merchant, pledged patronage to you sometime ago. he keeps you in a little cottage on the grounds of his manor where you're allowed to mostly do as you please as long as there's a new painting hung on the lord's wall every few months or so. the lord likes when you play too. he brings back new instruments for you to try, though he never expects mastery. he has an air of mystery to him that, despite all of the time you spend near him, keeps you from understanding him fully. you aren't one to pry about it either.

lord luocha invites jing yuan over to partake in fancy spirits from a country and city you can't ever hope to visit, let alone find on a map. you bring lord luocha your newest work-- (a meticulously completed oil painting. something more abstract, suited to the odd lonely and isolation you feel in your little, cozy cottage, despite all of the comforts you are afforded)-- and happen upon the pair.

lord luocha examines your newest work with pride, and shortly after introduces you. 'his patron' he calls you, but offers jing yuan no title. you--

(do not have one. it was stripped from you a long time ago. you think being an artist suits you better, anyways.)

jing yuan offers you his name, though you already know it. you recognize him based on the prattling of the girls and boys at the market. they swoon over his stature, fawn over his good deeds, and make note of his identifiable red hair ribbon. he has the same soft, sun-colored eyes that you had heard the eligible young of the ton giggle about.

you bow to him politely.

you have no reason to linger, but luocha calls you to anyways. perhaps he is lonely. perhaps you want him to be lonely, so it gives you a reason to stick closer to his side in the rare moments he is home for more than a day or two. the proximity is shared with jing yuan, who regards you with keen eyes and a lazy smile. the attention upon you feels weighted, important, like you're something special.

you savor it, however fleeting.

perhaps, however, you misunderstood jing yuan. or lord luocha's intentions.

because as jing yuan rises to take his leave and you bow once more, he catches your hand, brings it to his lips, and presses a kiss into the soft skin. you're sure you smell of linseed and yarrow oil. he lingers there for a moment before meeting your gaze. there's a light of mischief in them that sends your heart fluttering. your breath catches.

when jing yuan is out of the manor, lord luocha pats your shoulder gently, "quite the man, isn't he?"

"i suppose... he is."

"you may speak freely."

"i am," you mince, and shake your head. you must be careful, entertaining such fanciful thoughts. "he is... kind."

"and handsome."

"lord luocha," you barely keep yourself from whining. "please, do not tease me. or the poor man. from what i hear, he has enough to deal with."

"the mamas do chase after him like foxes to a hen," lord luocha chuckles and studies your painting once more with a curious tilt of his head. "he'll ask to see you again, i'm certain."

"and why do you say that?"

"general jing yuan has never taken the hand of a potential suitor."

your heart feels heavy and warm in your chest, burning. "my lord, you cannot possibly think that this single action indicates that the general will... call upon me? that is highly unorthodox and i don't believe that's... quite allowed."

"jing yuan has never cared for the dances of decorum." lord luocha guides you into your gardens. the peonies are in bloom, full and lush in the humidity of late spring. "and, for the record, i don't believe he'll simply call upon you. court, properly, certainly."

"you're bluffing."

"what reason do i have to lie?"

"to tease me, as you so enjoy doing," you huff.

lord luocha simply hums and pauses near a bush of lilacs. they're fragrant, at the peak of their season. the scent rolls over you.

"if i truly intended to tease you, i simply would abstain from telling you of jing yuan's interest and allow you to be terribly surprised when he arrives and formally asks for you and your time. consider this a warning. i'll walk you to the modiste tomorrow, hm?"

you want to squawk at him. your linen dresses and tunics are fine (albeit smeared and stained with paints and oils over the years. you rarely bother replacing them.)

you want to protest and pry more, but lord luocha strikes you silent when he breaks off a cluster of lilac and tucks it behind your ear. he leaves you with your thoughts, however tortuous. and, perhaps horribly, you find yourself believing him. perhaps the warm-eyed general really was charmed. perhaps, your dresses needed replacing and you should contact your perfumer friend for a fresh vial or two.

perhaps perhaps perhaps, you can still feel where his lips lingered on your skin, like a brand. you never thought you could ache for burning, but in the gardens, you find yourself clutching your hand to your chest, craving the lick of the his sun's heat once more.

[eleteo125]

"Be Mine or You Will Burn"

Rollo x GN!Reader

AN: Me and my friend are Rollo fans and they've inspired me to write this idea out 🤣

You were simply just walking around admiring the scenery of Noble Bell where you went back to the cathedral to appreciate the artistry of the stain glass. Each panel depicting how Judge Claude Frollo and his accomplishments.

Rollo, the school’s student council president has welcomed the NRC students by giving them a tour but his obvious disdain for magic users made it clear that he was rushing to get the tour done as fast as possible to get away from them. Heck you would even bet that the only reason he was able to get through the whole tour was because he only set his attention towards you barely minding the other guests. He sometimes casts a watchful eye on them but other than that he doesn’t particularly engage with them compared to you.

With those signs in display, everyone from NRC has come to the conclusion that them being invited here has an ulterior motive to it. Briefly shaking those thoughts from your mind, you admired the lights coming through the different colored windows surrounding you in a colorful halo.

My what a beautiful sight indeed.

Magic wielder or not, you’re still a student from NRC so of course Rollo has kept a close eye on you when freely strolling around the school. But he can’t help the fact that you’re devoid of any magic at all has him deeply fascinated. And to think to mingle around those…ahem.

Do not be fooled he’s only keeping watch of you because he can tell that everyone from NRC are quite attached to you especially that dragon fae. What better way to keep them in check when he has you close and in his clutches.

Walking towards you he silently stood in behind you. He held in a small chuckle as he saw you’re awestruck face looking at the beautiful work of art. “Impressed?”

Jumping a little bit in surprise, you quickly looked behind to see him “O-oh! Yes, I haven’t seen a stained glass window in person before, just through pictures.” You confessed

“Hmph of course such beauty is painstakingly crafted by hand of course you won’t see a lot of it. Craftsmanship that took people’s skill and talent with no assistance from cheap tricks everyone reveres.” He spits

“Magic?”

Rollo stayed silent at your question.

You decide to let go of the subject with his sudden silence. Instead you walked closer to the window to admire the small details. It was such detailed you can’t even imagine how long it would take to finish such a large piece.

Too lost in thought, you started to reach your hand out to the window but you’re once again surprised when you felt a strong grip around your wrist.

You were about to apologize but instead freeze up when you felt him step closer behind you. You tried to step forward to get some distance since you’re starting to get flustered at our position but realized that you don’t have much space to move in since you’re very close to the window.

“I’m sorry but those were just cleaned by the careful hands of our cleaners hands off please.” He whispered in your ear.

You shuddered at his closeness and the sensation of him speaking carefully so close to your ear. “I-I understand.” You stuttered while unconsciously leaning into his ‘embrace’.

He seems to have lost himself also since he buried his nose in your hair while his other hand rubbed your free arm.

You two stayed like that for who knows how long just basking in each other’s contact. “Why not transfer here, I can tell how ‘generous’ the headmaster is in your current school.”

“I can’t” you managed to mumble out after almost melting at the close soud of his voice yet again.

“You’re surrounding yourself with magic that is as deadly as fire.”

You leaned closer “Fire can be useful too.” You whispered

You felt his sigh in your ear and your knees almost gave up but he held you up when he sensed you were about to fall.

“Consider it.” He kissed behind your ear “Be mine or you will burn.

He carefully let you go after making sure you won’t collapse to your knees before walking put and leaving you under colorful light.

[aventurineswife]

Reader speaks sometimes in their native language when they are frustrated/excited/in the middle of a rant switch languages. And it intrigues Aventurine, who secretly starts to learn the language too, just to listen in secret.

One day, maybe during a light argument between them, reader drops a cuss word that does translate to "f*** you" and aventurine takes this moment to reply, while grinning from ear to ear "oh? Youre offering for once?"

Stunned silence.

Reader starts freaking out in their native language while aven just stands there with that shit eating grin.

Established relationship. No, they never done the deed, but he wanted to catch reader by surprise, and he did. He so proud of himself.

“You think you’re clever, but just remember: I’m one step ahead”

Summary: You and Aventurine are sharing a relaxed afternoon, and a playful argument about his so-called "inspirational mess" turns into teasing banter. When your frustration leads you to mutter in your native language, Aventurine—who’s secretly been learning it—seizes the chance to tease you in return. Caught between embarrassment and laughter, you realize he’s been one step ahead, and Aventurine is all too proud of himself for the surprise.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff, Playful Banter, Lighthearted Argument, Language Barrier, Teasing, Humor.

Waring: Slight Swearing.

A/N: THIS IS SUCH A FUNNY REQ!! I LOVE IT HONESTLY!! 🤭 (As someone's who's native language is not English, this is very funny and cute at the same time🥹🤧like imagine your s/o learning your language just so you can communicate freely or learn what you have been saying 🤭🫶💖🥹)

You’re both lounging around his suite on a lazy afternoon, a stack of paperwork untouched as the conversation somehow spirals into an easy back-and-forth about each other’s quirks. It’s all lighthearted and playful, but it doesn’t take long before you’re teasing him for his incredibly deliberate way of never quite cleaning up his cards and dice, always keeping them just a bit scattered, “for inspiration,” he claims.

“Inspiration, huh?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Well, maybe my inspiration would be higher if I didn’t trip over your cards every time I’m here.”

Aventurine raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m telling you, darling, you can’t rush art! It’s all about atmosphere.”

“Atmosphere?” you scoff, switching to your native tongue as you get more animated. “More like a mess that you just want me to overlook!”

He smirks, feigning offense. “My ‘mess’ is a masterpiece—unlike someone’s habit of muttering incomprehensibly every time they don’t get their way.” he teases, with that knowing look in his eyes. He’s clearly waiting for you to switch languages again.

You roll your eyes, slipping into your native tongue almost instinctively. “Maybe if you weren’t so infuriatingly full of yourself, I wouldn’t have to mutter at all.”

Aventurine chuckles, his grin only widening. “Full of myself?” he repeats, pushing back just enough to keep the mood light. “Look who’s talking—every time you walk into this room, you practically take over.”

“Take over? Oh, please,” you huff, slipping deeper into your language as you mutter, “if anything, I’m saving this place from turning into a pigsty.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly waiting for the right moment, and finally, you let slip a particularly choice phrase—a cuss word that, in your language, translates a little too directly to “fuck you.”

He seizes the opportunity, his face lighting up with a triumphant grin. “Oh? You’re offering for once?”

The world goes still. You blink at him in shock, the realization dawning as your mind scrambles. He understood you—completely. Your cheeks flush, and before you can help it, you’re sputtering in your native language, tripping over words and trying to make sense of how he even learned it.

Aventurine just stands there, that infuriatingly smug grin plastered across his face, arms crossed in satisfaction. “Surprised?” he drawls, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Turns out you’re not the only one with hidden talents.”

You start freaking out, half-laughing, half-ranting in your language, swearing at him all over again. He just chuckles, standing back and drinking it all in, proud as ever for catching you off guard.

“Oh, please,” he says with a chuckle, “keep going—I’m starting to enjoy these rants.”

You cover your face, torn between embarrassment and laughter, and finally shake your head. “One day, I’m going to get you back for this.”

He leans closer, his voice low and challenging. “I’ll be waiting, darling.”

[byechristopher]

can you make a chris make up sex??? please

Make it up to me.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO SMUT, FLUFF.

Author's note: love me some good make-up sex – sorry I took so long to respond! Thank you for the request, dear. Hope you like this. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: smut smut smut. Minors dni! Didn't proof-read!

"I feel a little neglected lately." my voice is timid but I let a little sigh of relief leave my lips.

I am not used to speaking about my emotions loudly like this, expressing them so freely, let alone in front of Chris. He is my boyfriend but I've always had trouble doing that – it's something I've been trying to fix for a while now.

"Neglected?" he has a tone in his voice that I don't appreciate and I am already regretting my decision to speak my mind, "I don't have time to fucking rest, what are you talking about?" he scoffs and leans back, one of his hands still grab the steering wheel and he sighs, fluffing his hair up with his free hand.

"Just forget it." I roll my eyes, leaning back against the car seat as well, glancing out the window, "forget I even said anything."

"Don't play that card now." I can feel his eyes on me but I refuse look at him.

"I'm not playing any cards. Would you rather have me not telling you anything? Because you know damn well I can do that." I shrug, finally looking at him.

"No, I don't want that. But you're being irrational." his eyebrows are raised and so are his shoulders.

"And you're being rational?" I narrow my eyes, almost like challenging him, "I understand that you are busy but when I tell you I fucking feel neglected, I'm expecting.. I don't know.. maybe a little bit of affection?" I cross my arms, "or is that not possible? To ask that from my relationship?"

"Stop being like this. You just have to understand me! I just don't have time!" he tries to defend himself but every time, he just says something that pisses me off even more.

"Well, that's your fucking problem, Chris. Because I'm working a lot too, you know? But I always make time for you, no matter how exhausted I am. And that's what relationships are about! Making constant sacrifices for each other." I try to explain as much as possible, "and I do understand you, I've been patient for a long time but now it's your turn."

"Well I never fucking complained about you being busy!" he knows he's just saying irrarional bullshit now.

"You never had to! Because I've actually got my shit together. You never had the chance to feel neglected." I stare into his eyes, "oh and also, what I just did, was not complaining. It's called 'expressing my goddamn feelings', something that you're terrible at, even more than me."

And with that, I get out of the car, quickly taking out the keys so I can open our apartment door. He makes me so angry sometimes – he is the best boyfriend in the world, but sometimes, he just doesn't get it.

Hours pass by and we haven't said a single word to each other; I refuse to speak to him, until he understands that he has to make sacrifices too. I can't always just chase him around, taking a step back just to avoid conflict.

A knock on the door of our bedroom is what wakes me up from my own thoughts, "can I come in?"

"Yes, you can."

Chris opens the door and takes a careful glance of me – I am just laying on the bed, under the covers, I am only in my underwear and a t-shirt just to be comfortable. He sighs and lifts the covers so that he can lay beside me, cupping my cheek so gently, his touch is careful and timid.

"I needed some time to think about what you said. And I wanted to apologise." he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "you're right. You're working a lot too, but you always make time for me and I am very grateful for that."

I don't say anything, I notice that he's still thinking, just waiting for him to continue.

"I don't want to make any excuses but I felt very overwhelmed lately because of work, and I didn't want to admit it. I haven't been able to sit down and actually try to manage my schedule but I promise to work on it immediately." he smiles apologetically.

"Baby, I know you didn't do it on purpose." I sigh, "but when I tell you how I'm feeling, I need you to try to understand before getting defensive."

"I know and you are right. It was the part of me that didn't want to admit that I'm actually so busy, so tired and so awful at trying to fit everything in my schedule. This is why I got defensive. Next time I will be better, though." he says and I nod, leaning into his touch, rubbing my cheek against his palm.

"I know you will. We all do mistakes. Thank you for taking your time to think about it." I grin and he wraps an arm around my waist – I waste no time, I immediately press my body against his.

"Of course, baby. I needed to be sure before I come and find you." he sighs and hugs me tightly, sneaking his leg in between mine. I smile and lean in to place a kiss on his lips.

He keeps talking but I am too focused on his lips, or the leg between my legs, or the hands that hold my waist. I listen to what he says but I can feel my arousal burning me. My thighs squeeze his leg and my lips rub themselves against his – I stick my tongue out to lick his bottom lip and that's when he takes the hint.

"What are you doing there, hm?" he hums, his fingers gripping my sides a little harder now.

"I think you need to make it up to me, no? For making me wait all this time while you were thinking." I murmur, my lips going from his lips to his cheek, to his chin and then finally his neck.

He groans and pulls his sweatpants down, not wanting to lose any time either. He places his leg between mine again and I press my clothed pussy against his thigh, making him feel my wetness as I start to rub myself against him.

"I'll make it up to you as many times as you want." he bites down his bottom lip as he slowly takes my shirt off. He's only wearing his boxers and I'm wearing my panties, we're still under the covers.

He grips my waist and I start to fully grind on him, rocking my hips, moving them back and forth on his thigh, "Chris. I want you." I whisper and he smiles.

"I can feel it." he whispers and leans in to take my earlobe in his mouth, sucking on it, moaning into my ear as he sneaks a finger between his thigh and my pussy, rubbing it while still putting pressure with his leg.

I almost whine at how much wetter he made me in just one second, and I travel my hand down his body to grab his clothed dick, taking it out to wrap my fingers around it, rubbing up and down his shaft.

He moans and I can feel his body shaking a little bit – he leans in and takes my nipple in his mouth, groaning around it and biting it gently. I gasp and tug on his hair. He grabs his own cock and brings it closer to my pussy, rubbing the tip of it against my panties, making it even wetter.

"Mmm, Chris.." moaning, I wrap my arms around him, trying to rub myself against his cock as much as possible.

With his fingers, he pushes my panties to the side and starts rubbing the tip of his wet cock against my clit, making sure to run it over my entrance, collecting my juices and then rubbing them all over my clit again.

"Please fuck me already, I am ready for you." I whine, I want to scream how much I want him right now.

He moans at my words and completely takes my panties off. He grabs my leg and hooks his arm under my knee, keep my leg lifted as he teases my pussy. He finally pushes inside of me and I lose it – I couldn't believe I could get any more wet, but apparently I can.

"Shit, baby.. you're so wet and warm." he moans, burying his face into my neck to press kisses all over my skin. His thrusts are gentle and slow as he fucks into me with love, while bruising my skin with kisses at the same time.

I moan and cup his cheeks, making him look at me before attacking his lips with passionate kisses. He grabs the leg that he's been lifting up again, making me wrap it around his waist as he rolls over to his back, making me get on top of him while still being inside of me.

"Fuck.. yes.. like this.." I whisper in his ear – I am completely laying on top of him, my breasts pressed against his chest, my legs on either side of him, my face buried in his neck and my hands grabbing his hair.

I can hear him moaning my name as he starts picking up the pace, fucking me a little harder this time – his hands are on my buttcheeks, squeezing them and spreading them as he pushes his cock in and out.

"Hell.. I don't think I can last any longer, baby girl.." he curses under his breath and moans into my ear softly, heavy breathing, placing a soft kiss on it.

"I'm gonna cum.." I warn, too, my pussy clenching around him as I feel him lifting my body up and down – I am at his mercy, completely.

"Mhmm, cum on my dick." he whispers and I let out a loud moan, tugging on his hair again. My body is trembling as he gives my butt a little smack and that's all it takes for me to cum with a loud moan of his name.

He groans and starts thrusting into me with a much faster pace, his fingers digging into the skin of my ass as he finally cums inside of me with a loud moan as well. I can feel him filling me up and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

We sit there in silence for quite a while, "I love make-up sex." I mumble against his shoulder and he laughs.

"I love you." he whispers, he hasn't moved an inch, still inside of me.

"Good, I love you too. Let me stay like this for a while."

[funfettifrills]

♣️; caregiver! husk x kid/agere! reader [headcanons]

[all platonic] + my inbox is open for reqs!

♡ʚ⁺˖↪husk is canonically good with kids!! He would be great at taking care of you !!

♡ʚ⁺˖↪ initially, husk keeps up his grumpy self around you

♡ʚ⁺˖↪but you find yourself enjoying being around him, to you he's a silly little kitty !!

♡ʚ⁺˖↪ he notices you will sit by him or stay in the same room as him, and he doesn't mind at all

♡ʚ⁺˖↪ at first you're a bit shy, but he tries initiating conversations with you and you happily speak to him a bunch!!

♡ʚ⁺˖↪ Once your wall of shyness is broken down, you'll find yourself sitting at the bar and info dumping to him about things you like or just your day in general

♡ʚ⁺˖↪He doesn't say much, but he always listens with a small smile on his face while he tends to his bartending tasks

♡ʚ⁺˖↪he has a huge soft spot for you, that he'd deny at first but everyone else at the hotel would clearly notice it

♡ʚ⁺˖↪whenever you go out, he starts going with you. He really wants you to be safe, even if you're in hell

♡ʚ⁺˖↪since you obviously wouldn't be drinking any alcohol, husk starts keeping things like juice at the bar just for you!! He even gets sippy cups !!

♡ʚ⁺˖↪even though he doesn't enjoy being a cat, you can't help but call him "kitty."

♡ʚ⁺˖↪ Sometimes, when you want his attention, you'll babble a bit and call out "kitty!"

♡ʚ⁺˖↪if anyone else would call him kitty, he would be sooo livid

♡ʚ⁺˖↪but he loves you and knows you mean no harm, he finds it endearing!!

♡ʚ⁺˖↪his default nicknames for you are just 'kid' or 'kiddo'

♡ʚ⁺˖↪he lets you play with his tail !! He just sits nonchalantly as you do it, and the others in the hotel watch in awe over how comfortable Husk is with you

♡ʚ⁺˖↪even if he has a soft spot for you, he's still husk so he's a very patient caregiver but also very stern when he needs to be

♡ʚ⁺˖↪if you get bratty or fussy, he won't hesitate to get you to behave, and he's very effective at it while not being tooooo harsh

♡ʚ⁺˖↪since he loves sleeping, when it's nap time he'll join you sometimes!!

♡ʚ⁺˖↪he's very comfy to snuggle with cause his fur is surprisingly soft

♡ʚ⁺˖↪as you two sleep, he holds you so gently

♡ʚ⁺˖↪He purrs during these naps too and its silly to feel the vibrations

♡ʚ⁺˖↪whenever you'd be overwhelmed and in tears, he had struggled to deal with it at first because he was intimidated

♡ʚ⁺˖↪Over time, he had learned how to handle those moments with ease and will hold you in his lap as you regulate yourself

♡ʚ⁺˖↪Depending on the severity of your emotions, he'll start doing magic tricks to distract you, and it's effective for calming you down

♡ʚ⁺˖↪he struggles with low self-esteem, so he questions whether he's good enough to be taking care of you (he is much more than good enough!!)

♡ʚ⁺˖↪you're happiest and comfiest with him, sometimes you cling onto his legs as he does random tasks and he just goes on as normal

♡ʚ⁺˖↪before he had gotten onto better terms with Angel, he'd tried to keep you away from him

♡ʚ⁺˖↪But afterward, you become close with Angel as well, and he thinks you're the cutest ever !!!

♡ʚ⁺˖↪you and Angel sit at the bar, with you in his lap, and have silly conversations with Husk

♡ʚ⁺˖↪Angel goes insane hearing you get to freely call Husk "kitty"

♡ʚ⁺˖↪ And Angel teases Husk over how soft he's gotten for you, Husk gets embarrassed in response

"Ya' let the kid call you 'kitty?' Why can't I do that too?"

"You are a GROWN man. There's no reason for you to call me that."

"You're just turning into a big softie, ya know?"

"..."

♡ʚ⁺˖↪don't even get me started on how adamant Husk would be to keep you away from Alastor

♡ʚ⁺˖↪but Alastor does find a way to get your attention, much to Husk's dismay...

♡ʚ⁺˖↪he'll find Alastor playing you, and you giggling along, which leaves Husk horrified

♡ʚ⁺˖↪he is really dedicated to keeping you safe from anything that'd cause you harm!!

♡ʚ⁺˖↪and he truly wants you to be redeemed, he knows you don't deserve to be in Hell

♡ʚ⁺˖↪overall, he adores you a bunch and would probably kill for you!!!!!!

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

OH, WHO IS SHE? ( HOTD x Reader )

author notes: thanks so much for the love! stay happy and safe! pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Death! Reader key words: h/c = hair color, e/c = eye color prompt: You've been haunting Aegon since Rook's Rest. word count: 600+ words

Aegon did not know who or what you were. You always came at the same time, wearing the small hooded cloak that hid your face, a soft linen with little gold embroidery on the trim. You are always whispering to him, most of the time he did not hear what you were saying, your words coming out like a gust of wind. Too fast and too gentle for him to cling onto until it was too late.

Sometimes you did not speak at all, just standing like a ghost at the foot of his bed, the dark shadows of the room keeping your face hidden. He craved to know more. To even get a glimpse of your features, like a hint of your hair color or just the outline of your face. What were you? Who were you? Were you a part of the staff? Someone that he had never met before? Or were you just a figment of his imagination, fueled by the heavy doses of milk of the poppy?

Tonight, he would get an answer.

Staring droopy eyed at the foot of his bed, he waited for you to appear, the heavy dose of milk of the poppy keeping his injuries numb and stated. He was still forced on bed rest, the left side of his body tender and healing from the burns of dragonfire of Meleys. Hearing a gust of wind slam against the window, he tilts his head to the side, watching the curtains blow and rattle. 

Licking his chapped bottom lip, he catches a soft whisper filling the room, his head turning back to look at the foot of his bed. Seeing you stand there, he slightly perks up as much as he could with his injuries, his eyes no longer as droopy as before. His fingers twitch, brushing against the soft linen bed sheet, longing to reach out for you. Inspecting you, you looked the same as always.

“It’s you.” He croaks out, his throat dry.

“Upsurger King, chokes on wine.” You whisper nonsense, “Dies like a rat, oh, so divine.”

“Won’t you come closer?” He croaks out, licking his lip with his tongue.

“No.” 

Watching you turn your head to the side, he catches a glimpse of wispy strands of hair peeking out, his eyes fixating on the strands of ( h/c ). It would be something that he clings onto for the rest of his days. Your hair was ( h/c ). You had ( h/c ) hair. His mind reeling with a new thousand questions, was your hair curly? Or straight? Or wavy? Was it long? Or short? Did you style it like other Ladies in the Court, with jewels and braids? Or were you more simple and let it flow loose and freely? Seeing you take a step back from the foot of his bed, he cursed his injuries, wanting to reach out and stop you from leaving. 

“No? Please, come to me.” He begs, his voice trembling as tears build up.

“You will die.” You babble on nonsense, “Wine. Fall. Sword. Fire. Four children with Hightower blood, yes, yes, shall die.” 

“No, no, just come to me. Please, do not leave me alone.” He whimpers, hoping to get you closer.

Surprisingly, you obey and saunter over to him. Watching you slowly stalk towards him like a predator stalking its prey, you pull down the hood of your cloak, the shadows hiding most of your features. The only thing he could see as clear as day was two ( e/ c ) eyes staring deep into his soul. He shivers in his place on the bed, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. 

He was sure now, that this had to be a dream of some kind. There was no other reason for your strange babbles and the darkness perfectly hiding your face from his view, even though the moonlight filled his chambers. If you were nothing but a dream? Why did you feel so real? Like if he reached out, he would be able to touch you. 

“You came.” He whimpered out, his bottom lip trembling. 

“I must.” You breathe out, “I must come to you. Tis’ my duty to do so.”

“Who are you?” He breathes out, his fingers twitching against the bedsheet. 

“You walked with me once, twas’ in a dream. You danced with dragon flames.” You whisper, “You called for me as they took you from Rook’s Rest.”

Shivering at you, raising your voice more clearly, there was something so soothing about it, like honey dripping down his throat. He faintly remembered his Mother had mentioned that the Stranger would be like this, so mysterious and soothing, meant to guide those to eternal rest. Is that what you were doing? Had you come to take him to a peaceful eternal rest? 

“Are you the Stranger?” He whispers, “Have you come to take me?” 

“No.” You state, no longer whispering. 

“No?” 

“When the sun rises, on the sixth moon of 131, your line shall end.” You state, vanishing into thin air.

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

[bandgie]

Hate You So

prince!bangchan x fem!reader

MDNI 18+, fantasy au, enemies-to-lovers (kinda), oral (f!), cum swapping, brief overstim (f!), biting, brief thigh humping

ask here! notes: I am not taking requests, however, I am interested in this one with my own version ofc

3.2k words

There is never a dull moment with Prince Chan. His words are belittling, his eyes are full of scorn when he looks at you in all his ruthless beauty. Sometimes you wish you could ignore his piercing gaze, but he bores his eyes into the back of your head so harshly you feel it burning.

Even without his hatred, it would be hard to turn away from him. With full lips, plump cheeks, and strong nose, it really is hard to think of him as anything below attractive. Still, you know better than to approach him unless you wish to cry yourself to sleep that night.

A masked ball is the perfect opportunity for you to slip away. Pretend to be someone you're not, or perhaps it's to show your true self behind a false face. Not that it matters. A night like this allows you to put the puzzling hatred the prince has for you far behind your mind.

Drink after drink, spin after spin and you find yourself in the arms of the Viscount Felix. You can tell it's him from the way he adorns himself in jewelry, his hair the color of the sun itself. His deep blue robe stitched with silver treading in layers. It must be difficult to dance in heavy clothes, but he twirls you in his arms easily.

"Ah, isn't it the beautiful Duchess," he regards you with a sly smirk. His eyes peek out from his silver mask underneath.

You narrow your eyes, though you doubt he can see much of your facial expressions from your black mask. "How did you know?" To this, Felix's smirk widens to a smile. "Even behind such a clever guise, your charm seeps through the fabric."

You mock the sound of laughter. "Is this a trick of flattery to get my hand in marriage? To help you rise higher than a Viscount?"

Felix's eyes gleam with mischief. "You think too highly of yourself, dear Duchess. I simply wish to lay in your bed."

Now you laugh. Your voice is swallowed from the sounds of heels clicking on the ground and loud chatter. The two of you dance steadily despite the liquor running in your veins. Felix is careful not to spin you too fast or dip you too low. He may speak vulgar, but he is every bit gentleman in every other way.

"I think I'd like that very much, if I'm to be truthful," you say once you're swaying evenly in his hold. "I can't recall the last time I've been properly loved." Felix makes a sound of understanding, eyes darting to the people around you.

It's improper of you to speak in such a way. You are of high status, and talking like this not only in public, but to someone of lower ranking is foolish. Still, it's this potty mouth that gives you and Felix such a close bond. The fact that you can speak freely without judgment.

Chris does not share your sentiment.

He can hear your crass words from where he dances with his own partner. It sickens him to know that you openly express lustful desires, but it disturbs him even more that he finds himself jealous.

His partner is speaking, but he doesn't pay attention to any words she says. He strains his ears to eavesdrop on the conversation with you and the brightly hair-colored Viscount.

"Is that so?" Chris hears the deep voice of the man dancing with you. "Sounds like that is quite the problem. Has no one caught your eye? Do you think no one is worthy of seeing your wholeness?"

You react as if you tire of your dancing partner, rolling your eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. The person I have my eye on would rather see me burn, that's all." The smile on your lips falter. Despite his better self, Chris wonders who would turn down such an opportunity to spend a night with you. What a foolish man.

"And pry tell, who is this person?" Felix speaks as though he read Chris's mind.

"The Prince."

Ah, that makes sense. Chris can't count the amount of times he's upset you, the times he's spewed swears cruel enough to make your eyes water. He brushed it off as you being too sensitive, too emotional. But he knows deep down, it's so he doesn't get close to you.

Felix's eyes widen and his jaw drops. He looks at you with alarm, and some fear, then he hisses under his breath. "I am not one to tell you what to do and how to speak, but I highly suggest you refrain from speaking ill about the royal blood in their own castle."

He has a point, it's treason to speak how you are now. But the alcohol makes not only your thoughts, but your words careless. "So then tell me, what do you suggest? I tire of my lonely state. I think I'm up for any suggestions you have."

Before Felix answers, his eyes dance around the room one last time to spot any itching ears. Chris, despite being a prince, turns his head to finally acknowledge his partner and try to pick up on the conversation. Once Felix determines there are no listeners, he says, "Perhaps you should lure the prince into your sheets. You say you want love, but I argue hate is a much more fun way to spend the night."

A wicked smile finds its way to Felix's lips that you can't help but match. "Now look who's speaking ill" you say. "Plus, that's a terrible idea. I will regret it in the morning."

To this, Felix shrugs. "Then let him make sweet hate to you past sunrise."

☘︎☘︎☘︎☘︎

Chris should know his luck is thin. Only the universe would have him push you away so much so only for you to want him with the same intensity. It mocks him even now as you stand outside of his chambers when he wanted to get away from you as far as possible.

"Did you follow me here?" He questions you with authority. You swoop into a deep curtsy and bow your head, "Yes, your majesty."

You don't have to look up to know he's sneering at you, lips pulled back into a snarl. Felix, along with the bitter alcohol, gave you too much confidence. Sure you may not be of low status, but standing before a prince unnerves you.

Especially when you followed him with intentions.

"If you want me to ask why, you will be disappointed. Leave me." Chris looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to take those steps back. You never do, however, but instead pick your head up and stride deeper into his room, shutting the door.

His eyebrows furrow and a blush crawls its way up his neck. Chris tries to mask his surprise with anger. "Stupid wrench. Can you not listen to simple instructions?" His eyes that are filled with anger slowly dissipates when he sees you reel back at his words.

You fiddle with your hands nervously and you suddenly feel as though you cannot do this at all. How are you, a duchess, supposed to ensnare a prince who hates you so? Doubt clogs your mind, but you are already here. It would be far too shameful to turn away without even trying.

"Why do you hate me so?" That's not what you were supposed to say. You were supposed to sound flirtatious, experienced. Instead, you're meek and quiet. For a moment you doubt the prince even heard you, but the disheartened look in his eyes says otherwise.

He sighs, running his jeweled fingers in his brown hair. A prince is to never be vulnerable, to show weakness in fear of exploitation. In the presence of your teary eyes, however, none of that seems to matter.

Chris takes a deep breath, "I hate you for many things."

Your jaw drops. You're not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. A foolish part of you thought maybe it was a misunderstanding, but there's no time to reply when the prince carries on.

"I hate that I think about you every hour of everyday. I hate that you live freely while I have to act accordingly." He takes a step to you. "I hate how you look at me with those hidden eyes. I hate it even more that I know it's you underneath that plain mask." Chris is close enough to reach for your face and he does just that. Gentle fingers undo the knot that keeps your mask on and he lets it fall to the ground.

"I hate that I know your voice, that I ache to hear it. I hate that I know in which way you walk, should you be in my castle." His fingertips ghost over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "I hate that I dream of you and I hate when I wake from those dreams."

Chris traces the outline of your lips, watching how your tongue darts out to taste his fingers. He shudders.

"Worst of all," he leans close to your face, a kiss away from you. "I hate that it's only for one night that I will be yours."

You don't kiss him back at first. You can't even register his plush lips on yours. How they move steadily, sickly sweet. The prince tastes faintly of alcohol, but not enough to overpower his kiss. You come back to when his hands find your waist, pressing you closer to his warm body.

A part of you thinks maybe this is a test. That when you begin moving your mouth with his, he'd pull away and laugh. Chris doesn't do that though and instead groans against your lips when you finally reciprocate.

Shaky hands find their way to his styled hair, tugging on his curls to bring him closer. It doesn't take long before you're both chest to chest, one of his legs between yours as you stand, and breathing into each other's mouths. His kiss is bruising, filled with the overwhelming desire he claims to hate.

Chris nips on your lower lip, pulling it back harshly to hear you whimper. Then he kisses you again, messily sliding his tongue against yours. His lips travel down your cheek, your jawline, to your neck. You shiver at his warm tongue tasting your skin, hips rocking on his thigh.

The grip on your waist only tightens to keep pressure on you grinding on him. You feel him smile against your throat. "Humping me like a little bunny, aren't you?" He lifts his head to whisper in your ear, biting your earlobe. "Is my leg enough to satiate your lust?"

You shake your head, "N-no. It's not, my prince." Chris rewards your honesty by moving his hands from your waist. He lifts the many layers of your dress in bunches, holding them above your hips. You take the hint and grasp them in your own fingers, watching him descend lower...

...and lower... ...and lower...

The prince kneels before you, facing your core. You gasp, and despite dreaming about this with your hand underneath your nightgown, it's still an unbelievable sight. No royal blood is to kneel before another, let alone you of lower ranking.

"Prince Christopher!" You sound slightly panicked. "You mustn't! To kneel before...not even that! You must have drunken one too many glasses. I shouldn't have-"

You cut yourself off with a yelp. You feel Chris's teeth dig into the soft flesh of your thighs. He does it hard enough to see his teeth imprints when he pulls back. "You think of me drunk," he says it with accusation. "But how could I be drunk off wine when I could be drunk off this instead?"

Though you can't see him from the frills of the many layers of your dress, it helps ease your nerves when he hooks his finger under your panties. Your hips jolt when the cold air hits your bare cunt, but his warm breath quickly replaces it.

Chris trails kisses just next to your core, his hands planted on each thigh. His fingers makes shapeless figures, dancing closer to where you throb just before pulling away. It's bearable it first, his teasing. But then you start to feel yourself dripping, arousal seeping from your folds. His lips ghost over your clit, moving to the next thigh.

You tremble, trying to move your hips so his mouth catches your pussy. You're met with a chuckle, deep and quiet. It makes you more impatient, whining. "My prince please. I cannot bear it."

The prince pulls away from you completely, leaning back to look up at you. He looks silly beneath where you stand. His mouth red and curls messy from your earlier tugging, but his wet lips are frowning. "Are you, a duchess, telling me, a prince, what to do?"

Shit, you got too comfortable. "Of course not," your voice wavers. From fear or lust, you're not sure. "I didn't mean to offend you, I just-"

"You're quite the nervous talker, aren't you?" Chris's once pouting lips turn into a smirk. His observation makes you blush, though you're sure your face was already a deep shade of red since the beginning.

He smiles at your reaction, teeth gleaming in the candlelit room. "No need to fret, pretty duchess. I told you that tonight I am yours. If my mouth on you is what you desire, then so be it."

You watch as Chris dives forward to the empty space between your legs. His tongue darts out to taste you directly, going under your lower lips to collect your arousal. The warmth from his mouth makes you squeal, but his hands move to the back of your thighs to keep you in place.

It's hot, wet, and a little rough when he licks you. He trails his tongue upwards to rub soft circles on your nub before dipping back down. Chris moves his hands higher until they're under your hiked dress, gripping your arse. His fingers kneed into your soft flesh, forcing you deeper into his mouth.

There's a guttural moan that leaves him, sending waves through your cunt. Chris opts to suck on your flesh, pulling it only to let it go with a wet 'pop!' The sensation makes you shiver, legs buckling for a second before you regain your composure.

"This is..." the prince trails off. He buries his nose on your clit, sticking his tongue out to prod at your entrance. There's no doubt that the evidence of your shame is dripping from his chin, but he acts as though he doesn't mind. He hardly cares how your legs squeeze and how the hair on your pelvis tickles his face when he painfully pushes his face deeper into you.

This is divine.

You want nothing more than to grind on his face, hump on his tongue like the bunny he said you are. But your legs shake so much, your knees lock so often you see your vision go black for seconds. Finishing on the prince's face is something you could have only dreamt of. Yet here he is, seeming to eagerly coax a release from you. Surely he must be flushed himself, straining painfully in his trousers.

"P-Prince Christopher I- oh~ I'm so close. Do you want me to...should I..."

It's difficult to finish your sentence when you're so close to finishing in his warm mouth. You want to taste him how he's doing to you, you want to feel how his length would stretch you out. He must feel the same way, he has to.

But he only shakes his head with your pussy still in his mouth. "You should cum," he says breathlessly. "Let me taste this, drink you in. I've never had a cunt as pretty as yours."

Hot kisses rapidly peck on your clit. The prince spits messily on your already wet core, but he quickly spreads it all over your lips. Chris moves you up and down by your ass, encouraging you to ride his face. The idea of hesitating and passing the opportunity is behind you. You feel as though you might crush his head with the force of your legs, but he takes it all.

It makes sense why you're moaning, writhing under the tongue of the prince. But it makes you wonder why he's so loud himself. Groaning at your taste and whining when your hips shy away from his relentless mouth. You can hear him mumble mostly to himself. Mindlessly babbling soft words of praises.

"So good." "Pretty pussy." "Fuck. Ride my tongue, just like that."

Maybe he's trying to help get you to your high, but it makes you distantly wonder, nonetheless.

You whimper at the feeling of pleasure building in your stomach. It bundles and quivers until you drop the hem of your dress to reach down and grip Chris by the hair. He ignores how the layers surround him like blankets. You feel him gasp against your pussy when you slide your cunt up and down his face.

"S-sorry," you apologize pathetically. "Close. Wanna cum- fuck! wanna cum. Please forgive me." You mewl more apologies before vibrating with pleasure. Chris can't protest as you finish on his tongue, and he seems to rather like it with the way his blunt fingernails stab into the skin of your bottom.

You keep him there on your cunt as your body trembles with aftershocks from your orgasm. The prince obediently licks you throughout it all, collection your cream before loudly gulping it down. Your shaky hands finally release him from your grip, but Chris is persistent on giving your quivering clit final kisses.

Even if you try to move your hips from his mouth, he keeps you in place. "Your majesty," you struggle to find your voice from how much you were moaning. "Please. It's so sensitive."

He licks a fat stripe along your pussy to hear you cry out one final time. "You ask for me to taste you. You practically beg for me to let you finish on my tongue and when I do, you tell me to stop. Tell me, duchess, what is it that you want from me exactly?"

It's a simple question that has a simple answer, yet, saying it would bring complicated issues you know neither of you are able to face.

You. The word is on the tip of your tongue, but you settle for saying, "T-to please you, if you'll have me." It's close enough to what you actually want.

Chris finally brings himself to his feet, reaching for your fallen mask on his way up. He hands you the fabric, but you're so distracted with his face that you gasp.

He's soaked in your juices, his face glistens in the rising moonlight coming from his window. It's almost offensive to look at, reminding you of how you lost yourself so easily.

The prince only smiles at your words, your shocked expression. "Don't worry about my pleasure, pretty duchess." He leans in to kiss you, eyes fluttering closed upon impact. You can taste yourself on him, the bitter flavor settling on your tongue and invading your senses. It brings a new wave of desire, of an aching want.

"There," he gives you a dazzling smile when he pulls away. A string of saliva mixed with your arousal connect your lips. "Have a taste of yourself instead."

[penkura]

Hi! I'm currently on my traffy brain rot-

May I request a law x Reader but reader has a tendency of always wearing headphones and/or play music on full blast because she can't stand silence too much. I mean I can't stand silence because you don't know what's in a specific space and silence just means something negative in me lmao.

Also, I listen to music mostly because I feel/express emotions more freely than without music because I find emotions hard to feel/express. It's alright if you don't add this to reader but I hope this helps somewhat explaining their love for blasting music.

Hello!! Traffy brain rot is SO REAL GOSH. It just comes randomly and sticks for months at a time good lord.

I also have headphones on most of the time, it's how I focus and sometimes is the only way I can get any work done, I hate the silence, there's always something on my TV or in my ears.

I hope you enjoy!!

Law knows when you’ve taken over his office, it’s the only time there’s ever music blasting from a radio snail or whatever little device it was you picked up on an island before. He doesn’t mind it per say, only because you have decent music tastes and it’s normally something he can tolerate, he doesn’t mind those moments when you’re both in there. He’ll usually be reviewing charts or the supplies list before your next docking, while you’d be writing up reports he’s asked for, it’s always comfortable even with music blaring as you work.

This time, your music isn’t playing out loud, you’ve got your headphones on and it makes Law wonder if something might be wrong today. You only really have your headphones on if you need to be left completely alone, even then you don’t take over his office but stay in your room or the common area, not wanting to feel like a bother towards your captain/boyfriend. He’d never call you a bother, Law loved you too much to ever think that. He doesn’t mind when you take over his office or bedroom honestly, anything for you to feel safe and comfortable, he’s willing to allow.

It only really becomes a problem when you don’t hear him speaking to you. A few times you’ve left your headphones on during crew meetings and he’s had to stop and make sure you’re listening, making you hand them over until he was done. At least it meant you weren’t in silence, not with your crewmates talking to and whispering with you. Your headphones aren’t on all the time, only when it’s too quiet, and you can’t stand the silence anymore.

And then, the other time it’s a slight problem, is when he needs to check in with you on your reports or anything else, and you don’t hear him.

“Hey, hey.” You jump when Law taps your shoulder, surprising him when you turn your head quickly, wide eyed when you know he’s done this before to get your attention. Taking your headphones off, you ask him what he needs and he points at the report on your desk. “Have you finished that yet?”

“Oh, shaking your head, you turn back to it and slip your headphones back on, “Almost, just a few more minutes, okay?”

Nodding, Law almost leaves you alone to finish, before putting his hand on yours, making you stop your music again as you give him a questioning look.

“What are you listening to?”

“Mm, it’s Uta’s new song. It’s really catchy, you wanna hear it?”

“No, I’m fine,” you shrug and go back to work, while Law puts an arm around your shoulders and kisses the top of your head, “Just making sure you are too.”

[sapphicdib]

Rot Au Explanation!

(and an introduction to my OCs and stuff!!)

I’m making this little intro post to put most of my rot au thoughts in one place! The tag on my blog is #rot au, but some of the older info is probably outdated at this point. I ALSO LOVE ASKS ABOUT IT!! I like replying to them with little comics sometimes so feel free to send some my way :D

Finally: TW for Manipulation, toxic as fuck relationships, SOOOO much murder, no one in this AU is a good person at all!!

Becoming increasingly frustrated with his citizens treating him like “Moon but worse”, Pebbles goes to Sig for help—he wants to be able to retaliate, or at least throw them out of his chamber when they’re being especially insulting, but he can’t do that with the taboos placed in his code. These restrictions are physically painful to break, in order to keep their artificial gods in check. Above all hangs one taboo so deeply encoded in them that rumor says if you even think of breaking it for too long, you’ll shut down from how overclocked your systems become from the pain: the altering of one’s own genome.

Much to his chagrin, Sig is the best bioengineer Pebbles knows, and probably the only one crazy smart enough to pull this off. Sig is reluctant at first, knowing how dangerous and nigh impossible such a task will be, but eventually is convinced, agreeing to help give advice and nothing else. Pebbles agrees, and they get to work.

...And it fucking works.

There are 2 main local groups: 037 (Moon's group), and 1650 (Sliver's group). In descending order of age, they are:

Looks to the Moon - (she/her) Group Senior of local group 037. One of the oldest still functioning iterators, softspoken and kind, despite the fact some other seniors might consider that a weakness. She tries to take care of her citizens and work on the great problem, but she can’t really bring herself to care much about it anymore, after working on it for so long. She is incredibly caring to her group, but she does know when to put her foot down, though she has never found it in her to use her seniority privileges against one of her group members, as she considers them a violation of their autonomy. Sig’s partner.

Seven Red Suns - (he/xe/they) Second oldest of local group 037. Close to Moon in age, which means their emotional AI is not quite as advanced as those younger than him, which can lead to issues when they are trying to understand their own and others’ feelings. He does his best though, and is generally a dedicated and agreeable member of the group, though they’re kind of aloof until Pebbles is constructed. They are active in the politics of their city, mostly as someone to give advice and guidance, rather than a leader.

Sliver of Straw - (she/her) Group Senior of local group 1650. One of the youngest seniors there is, she’s closer in age to Sig than she is to Moon. This makes her highly insecure, and she is determined to “prove” to everyone that she is a capable Senior. This leads to her being very strict with her group, as she wants someone within it, or herself, to find the solution in order to show her worth as a leader.

Once Stagnant Opportunity - (she/her) “Second in Command” of local group 1650, she’s basically Sliver without the inferiority complex. A bioengineering-focused facility, mostly specializing in creating things to make her citizens’ lives easier. She doesn’t give a shit what others think of her, and speaks her mind freely, aside from around Sliver herself, who she pretends to like but is actually insanely jealous of. She thinks she could be a better leader than Sliver ever could be, and resents her for it. (OC)

Echos of Indigo - (he/she/they) Member of local group 1650. Very soft spoken and shy, his self esteem is in rubicon from being bullied by OSO (and Sliver) after being put online. Their facility is a nature reserve, which has some of the very last natural, unpurposed biodiversity left. OSO specifically does not respect her because she thinks preserving such things is a waste of time. He tries his best. Kinda a “mom friend” to ABL, and really wishes he had some friends his age. (OC)

Chasing Wind - (he/him) Member of local group 1650. Rules his city like a dictator, due to being terrified of his own citizens taking advantage of him, so he took initiative with a “hurt them before they hurt you” mentality. He doesn’t trust his group members further than he can throw them, and suffers with some paranoia. Sig is very close to him though, they were put online within 50 cycles of one another. Sliver HAAATES this, because she thinks Sig is a lazy asshole and doesn't want her “distracting” Wind. He doesn’t particularly care, though, because he can actually let himself chill out around Sig.

No Significant Harassment - (she/he/it) “Second in Command” of local group 037. An advanced medical facility with a specialization in bioengineering, and the northernmost iterator in her group, her can is in an extremely cold area. Doesn’t give much care to the great problem, prefers to spend his time goofing off. Is considered the “Second in Command” because Moon trusts her a bit more than Suns, as they’re closer. Has a generally laid back and sarcastic personality. Moon’s partner.

Pleading Intellect - (they/them) Member of local group 1650. Built near EOI, their city has become a tourist destination because of the beautiful climate around them. Their chamber is a glass box in the middle of the city, so visitors can watch them iterate and even ask them questions. They are constantly tired due to this, since they have to be running at 100% around the clock, as they’re always being watched. Their city is the richest in the local group, and their puppet is decorated in gold and jewels to reflect that, and for the delight of tourists. Friends with Sig, Wind, and Pebbles.

Unparalleled Innocence - (she/they) Member of local group 037. While she can be a little bit of a brat, she’s a very dedicated caretaker for her city. She enjoys her citizens’ celebrations and rituals, and is generally content being their iterator. Her can is an industrial facility, and manufactures a lot of machinery for her local group and others. She’s quite popular among the iterator populous, friends/on good terms with most around her. ABL is very close to them.

Alienated by Light - (they/them) Member of local group 1650. The youngest of the group, has yet to be crushed by the futility of the great problem. Loves their citizens, and their city is very religious. They are a bit of a kiss-ass to the older ones of their local group, as they desperately want to be accepted and liked by their peers. Sliver and OSO just find them annoying, though. They consider themself close friends with Indigo (who keeps them at arms length at best), but UI is genuinely close with them, and they have a developing crush on her. (OC)

Five Pebbles - (he/him) Youngest member of local group 037. Built as a support structure for Moon, so her systems wouldn’t have to strain themselves trying to keep up with caring for her citizens. His construction was tumultuous, as there was heavy political opposition and even a couple attempted attacks in order to stop it, though obviously it didn’t work. Cycles later, he still can’t seem to shake being referred to as the “Apostate Superstructure Abomination” in certain political circles. He is deeply frustrated by this, and becomes disillusioned with his purpose rather quickly. He becomes close with Suns when he tries to distance himself from Moon, who he is constantly being compared to.

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

Once Sig and Pebbles manage to alter their genome, things seem fine for a couple cycles, or well, at least for them. They start distributing the code they created to a small group of friends/iterators they know are frustrated with their situation, unknowingly dooming them to a slow, painful death from the rot. Word gets out eventually about what Sig and Pebbles have done, especially once Pebbles starts “retaliating” (killing) his citizens when they annoy him too much. Cue absolute fucking panic.

Their citizens freak the fuck out. Their iterators, their homes could literally decide to just betray them at the drop of a hat. Political mayhem ensues, among both iterators and their citizens. Some of their citizens immediately go to groveling at their iterator’s feet, begging them not to infect themselves, while some lobby for trying to reason with Sig and Pebbles and the rest of those who have gone rogue, to work out a solution that would satisfy both of them. Some want to shut the entire iterator project down. Meanwhile, on the iterator side of things, workgroups are created, with some wanting to work to reverse/talk Pebbles and Sig down, some secretly gathering in hushed whispers to voice their wishes to go rogue themselves, and some are trying to figure out how to kill the traitors. Sliver is a part of one of those groups:

This is where Wind comes in. Wind is Sig’s best friend, put online about 50 cycles before her. Wind is part of Sliver’s group, and she absolutely despises their relationship, considering her contempt for Sig. However, this doesn’t stop them from goofing off together, as Wind really only drops his stoic and standoffish personality around her. He is incredibly paranoid, and distrustful of his own group (considering how Sliver continuously tries to prevent Wind from having fucking friends), as well as his citizens. When he realizes his citizens could be planning to shut him down, he tightens the reins on them even further, as he was already basically a strict dictator beforehand. He thinks that because of his treatment of them, his citizens absolutely want him dead, so he locks down his city and turns it into a literal surveillance state.

While this is happening, Sig notices something bad. They’ve got the fucking rot. Since they’ve already created so much chaos, they decide to keep it a secret, as they think they can just cure it as quick as they can and just sweep it under the rug, and no one will be any the wiser. Yeah that doesn’t work. When Moon notices that Pebbles shut the dams between their shared water supply, using more water, and has been acting very strange and distant, she goes to Sig because she knows they’ve been hanging out and Pebbles may have disclosed something to him that she doesn’t know. When Sig is similarly cagey, she asks for a diagnostic sweep of his systems. Sig refuses. Moon uses her seniority privileges, something she has never done before, to force Sig to send her the equipment manifest, and the truth is revealed: Sig and Pebbles are horrifically sick. Sig didn’t even realize the extent, as the rot has begun to hide and warp information they can collect from their structures.

Upon learning that Sig and Pebbles have given themselves the fucking rot, Suns completely cuts both of them off. He refuses to speak to either of them, because they’re scared that they could become convinced to “join them”, and this hurts Pebbles deeply. At the same time, Sig becomes distracted trying to convince Wind to infect himself (which I’ll come back to in a minute), and Pebbles is left feeling betrayed and alone.

Pebbles, despite his contempt for his citizens, actually really enjoys their culture. He thinks that when they aren’t being led by corrupt and rich assholes, they are a very interesting species and likes documenting and learning about them. He’s always been friendly with Pleading Intellect, who if you remember, is very involved in their citizens’ celebrations and daily life, so they begin to talk, growing closer. PIn eventually even begins to develop a crush on Pebbles, which spoiler alert, does not end well, like most things in this god awful au.

The way that seniority privileges work is that a senior can only use them on their own group. This means that Sliver cannot do jack shit to Sig or Pebbles, but she is going to try her damndest to figure out how to be able to extend her seniority to them. Sig knows this, and comes to the conclusion that he has to kill her before she kills him. This leads to him trying to convince Wind to infect himself so he can alter his own code to basically give himself seniority privileges and brain blast Sliver into oblivion. Sig uses the fact that Wind is already deeply paranoid against him, and he is eventually convinced, and the two end up killing Sliver:

This is what finally knocks some sense back into Sig. She realizes that HOLY FUCK WIND WE ABSOLUTELY FUCKED UP, and begins to desperately scramble to find a cure. Because Pebbles is still pissed at her, he refuses to help him, and even goes so far as to contact Suns again…who accepts the message. They start talking again, and out of an act driven mostly by the rot’s manipulation of Pebbles, he sends Suns the virus in a compromised message, and now Suns is infected. Sig is fucking PISSED. Why the hell would Pebbles fucking SPREAD THE ROT TO YET ANOTHER GROUP MEMBER, and also LEAVE HER TO DO ALL THE WORK WHILE HER SYSTEMS ARE DETERIORATING RAPIDLY?! Unfortunately, Pebbles has basically completely stopped fighting against the rot’s takeover of his mind and body, and pretty much succumbs to its whims.

This leaves Sig on her own. Moon and Wind try to help, though Wind has become so paranoid due to the rot feeding into that delusion he eventually shuts everyone out. Moon and Sig quickly realize that Sig barely has control of his structure anymore, and any and all attempts to run experiments or simulations of a cure come back with an error message near immediately. Moon knows that while Sig’s systems are very advanced, there’s no way that these errors are being processed this quickly, and the rot is manipulating his systems into not letting her hurt it whatsoever.

Meanwhile, the rot feeds on Suns’ love for Pebbles and twists it into a horrific jealousy/obsession. When they find out about PIn’s crush on Pebbles, he becomes incredibly angered by it, and one night while Pebbles is visiting PIn, they show up, grab Pebbles, and erase his memories of PIn right in front of them. PIn freaks the fuck out, and goes to Moon for help, and this is how Moon learns just how insane Suns and Pebbles have gone. This is getting bad!

PIn eventually goes to Wind and asks for the code to infect themself. They realize that even on the slim chance Sig and Pebbles and everyone else were to be cured, nothing would ever be the same again. They are already worked to the bone by their citizens due to being watched by them nearly 24/7, and they just want some damn sleep. Wind gives it to them.

Sig is also completely losing her grip on reality. The rot knows how hard Sig is trying to fight it, and begins just fucking melting her neurons, giving him what he wants (which are basically just hallucinations of Moon), to pacify him and stop him from focusing on attempting to find a cure.

Upon learning about what Suns has done to her brother, Moon tries to contact them, begging Pebbles to come to his senses, and eventually tries to use her seniority privileges on both of them to get a response, and this is what finally makes Suns snap. Moon comes over to Pebbles’ chamber right in the middle of him erasing Pebbles’ memories of Moon and Sig. Panicking, Moon tries to get Sig to come over, to help, to do ANYTHING, but it’s too late. Pebbles doesn’t even know who they are anymore.

Moon tries to use her privileges again to stop Suns, shut them down, get them to stop feeding Pebbles lies about Sig and Moon, but this just pisses off Suns more. Sig tries to defend Moon from them, but at this point he’s so weak a light breeze could have probably killed her, so Suns is easily able to kill her.

And then kills Moon too.

The end :3

And that's the basic explanation! Horrible, isn't it? :D

[extra-v1rgin]

Alrightttt bitches come get ur food

Alpha!Kokushibo & Omega!Reader

Tbh I don’t think this is omegaversy enough…. I must fix this in the future

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Fellow demons coming to you is… not rare, but not necessarily common. Heats and Ruts (and occasionally just a horny beta) seem to bring demons together. They sniff out the smallest hints in your scent that mark you as a demon, and fuck you senseless. Most demons can’t keep a human partner alive long enough to satisfy them. Cycles seem to triumph over a demons territorials needs. After the rut has ended they’re often quick to leave. Some weak fools are quick to fight but that just means you get a good meal, at least a bite or two. Then you can go back to seducing humans until someone else stumbles upon your shack.

Most demons that find you are at a similar strength level. You don’t know why things work out like that, perhaps something instinctual. It’s nice that you can protect yourself from unwanted visitors or teeth that get too curious. You fall into the routine of strangers easily.

When an upper moon shows up at your door you’re worried you might die. You’re too focused on the overwhelming taste of his power to read his pheromones properly.

Pulling your robe tighter around your body you scramble to bow before the man. You don’t speak, the demon is old. He’s old enough that he likely holds archaic ideas about how omega’s should behave.

His feet move into your narrow field of vision. “Look at me,” the upper moon commands. Slowly— and still kneeling —you raise your head.

Upper moon one is carved into his eyes, two of them at least (you focus on the middle set). You didn’t expect someone so highly ranked though it makes sense given the weight in his words.

“I need someone to assist me with an upcoming cycle.” You could already taste it in the air after having a moment to properly breathe. Deep underneath the rich and dark smell of strength is a hint of spice that makes your nose itch. Most demons visit you when they’re right on the precipice of falling into a rut, sometimes even a few days into it. They’re desperate, no time for pleasant conversation. The upper moon still has at least a day before he’ll be truly affected by the hormones.

You’re still scared to respond vocally so instead you simply nod. The thought of having to be on your best behavior for the next few days— while getting fucked out of your mind —was terrifying.

“You can relax. Do as you must.”

You take that as a cure to move freely, speak even. If he’s insane enough to kill you for this then you would’ve died soon enough anyways. You may be good at playing obedient but at heart you can only manage for so long. Most demons don’t mind having a partner who occasionally snaps back, but an upper moon likely has more options available. It makes you wonder why he chose to come to you in the first place.

The man is still standing and you rise up. You move slowly, watching for any signs of displeasure. “Thank you for gracing me with your presence, alpha.”

“Kokushibo.”

“Hm?”

“My name, use it.”

“Of course Kokushibo-alpha.” You push sone seduction into your words. “Can I come closer?”

“Yes.” You try not to be put off by his flat tone and simple language.

Crossing your way over to him you take in more of his appearance. His eyes are a bit scary but the rest of his body is relatively normal. You suspect there’s nice muscles hidden under his thick robes but it’s too loose to tell for sure.

“You’re handsome,” you purr. The man stands stiffly. Even when you reach out a hand to run your fingers over his broad chest he doesn’t react.

“Let’s get started.” Kokushibo steps forward while brushing you to the side. He stands at the edge of the futon and begins to undress methodically. Even when you step into his view the demon does not glance your way.

With a huff you begin to undress. You don’t put any effort into stripping, simply ripping off your clothes. The air feels cold and soon after revealing your body you crawl into the futon.

Kokushibo takes a much longer time undressing. He wears more proper clothes than your thin robe, meaning there’s several layers to remove. You stare and admire his physique as it’s slowly revealed. The man’s body is much more pleasant than his attitude. Sparse hair covers his large chest, which leads down to toned abs.

There’s no shyness about nudity. The upper moon does not hesitate to remove his fundoshi. At this point his cock is still mostly flaccid but it’s sizable and pretty enough. His hair is neatly trimmed, something you’ve only seen one or two other men do. It’s a nice look.

You feel some excitement grow within you again. As he peels off the comforter you eagerly turn onto your stomach.

“Present,” He commands. Your ass pushes into the air as a pleased noise leaves your throat. A warm hand runs over your hips and around until fingers pry your thighs apart and reveal your cunt. It’s not soaking given Kokushibo’s less than sexy personality but the pheromones in the air have left you at least damp.

He wastes no time at this point. The man fishes out a bottle of oil and pumps his cock to full hardness. There’s no announcement before he slips a finger into your cunt, testing how eager you are to receive. You squeal at the cold digit entering you. It’s not a sound of pleasure.

“Don’t you know how to treat an omega?” Your position wavers slightly, though you don’t dare break it. On some level you know this demon could kill you in the blink of an eye.

“Is this not pleasurable?” There’s maybe a hint of surprise in his voice but mostly it’s flat.

You grumble and put your face back into the pillows. “It’s fine.” You can survive a mediocre fuck. Once his knot is popping inside of your cunt it’ll feel good no matter what. Bearing through foreplay is just a necessary step.

Kokushibo’s finger still sits inside of you. Slowly he pushes his finger in deeper before pulling it out. “Is that better?”

“I said it’s fine.” You try to keep your tone light. “My job is to make you feel good alpha.” Dipping back into seductive stance you arch your back more to stick your ass in the air.

The upper moon stills for a moment. You hold your breath, ready to get slapped or killed maybe. Kokushibo’s movements are unclear behind you. It actually doesn’t seem like he’s moving at all which only confuses you more.

“You are to answer my questions truthfully.” With the confusing statement you dare to glance back at him. He’s wiped his fingers clean.

“Sit,” he commands when he notices your eyes looking towards him. You slowly move to a stiff seiza. It feels odd with the cool air still blowing around your naked form. You’re forced to stare at your sloping breasts as you keep your eyes turned downwards. “You understand what I’m asking for?”

“Yes alpha.”

“Did it not feel good, when I put my finger in?”

You resist the urge to answer with ‘it’s fine’ again. You also resist the urge to laugh. For all your partners you’ve never been interrogated about sex before. “It was cold.” The answer is simple. His claws were a little scary too but when you’re dealing with demons you get used to them.

He nods with a surprisingly thoughtful look. “You were not… wet before either.” Kokushibo is hesitant to use such vulgar language. The fact that he does anyways helps you relax a little. You suppose even centuries old demons can have an interest in good sex.

“Ah well, that’s because there wasn’t any foreplay.” You don’t have the same hesitation when it comes to sex. This is most of your life after all.

Kokushibo nodded again. He was quiet for a moment afterwards. You weren’t sure what he could be thinking about.

“I shall follow your instructions then, for now.”

You’re… shocked isn’t quite the right word. Maybe you’re aroused by his agreeable nature.

“Can I kiss you Kokushibo-alpha?”

He blinks with all three sets of eyes. “If that will make this more pleasurable.” You take it as a yes.

You’re still aware of his hard cock sitting between his legs and chose to straddle one of his thighs.

You sit closer to his face now. His eyes are all focused on your face, making you nervous. You notice the thin webs scattered across his irises.

Either the upper moon doesn’t mind your staring or is very patient. As he blinks again, this time with the bottom set alone, you’re stirred out of your trance. Your face warms with slight embarrassment at standing still for so long.

You move one hand to rest on his shoulder. Slowly you move forward to press your lips against his.

The first kiss is chaste and hesitant. You’re cautious of the eyes right next to his mouth but they shut when you come close. His long lashes tickle your cheeks.

As you get used to the shape of his face you move with more confidence. Kokushibo does kiss you back though it feels like a mechanical movement rather than something driven by attraction.

“Can you touch me?” You move to guide his hand towards your bare chest but the man quickly jerks away.

“You are making requests, not demands,” He’s harsh in reminding you. You duck your head, silent for a moment, maybe a little embarrassed too.

Eventually Kokushibo moves on his own accord, grabbing your breast. His hand is big enough to envelope the fat easily. Caught off guard you let out a surprised moan. The man’s hand is calloused, unusual for a demon.

He seems pleased by your reaction, repeating the motion. His other hand moves to grab your chin, squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look back up at him.

Feeling far more aroused now wetness builds in your cunt. Kokushibo continues to manipulate your chest, grabbing it roughly and pinching your nipples. The whole time he watches you with an even look. It’s still a little disturbing but exciting too. He remains solid as stone even while you buck and moan on his lap. You’ve never met an alpha with even an ounce of the self control Kokushibo displays.

“A-alpha, can you touch my cunt please?” You lean back the smallest amount, hoping it’s enough to display how slick you’ve gotten.

“Why am I doing all the work?” He doesn’t let go of your chest but his grip loosens. “Show me your skills.”

Your hands wander to his cock, feeling the weight of it. He’s well endowed even among other alphas. You slide your palm down to the base of his cock. His knot will be big. Your pussy drools a little more at the thought of it expanding inside of you.

Kokushibo hums in approval. You move back upwards to run your palm against his slit. His hand moves away from your breast so he can lean backwards. You’re sad at the loss of pleasure but you’re not about to voice any complaints.

When you slip off of his lap upper moon one gives you a strange look but does not stop you at all. Since he only kneels you must lie down to rest your head on his lap. At first you continue with your hands alone. His cock looks even more threatening up close, covered in veins with wild brown hair at the base.

Slowly you begin to put your mouth to use. One hand guides Kokushibo’s grip into your hair. He does not reprimand you this time, hopefully pleased by your motions. First you start with sloppy kisses and licks down his shaft. After you’re quick to take the head into your mouth and drool over it.

The demon continues to offer little reaction which only fuels you to attempt to swallow more of his length. Halfway down you get another soft hum and at the base you’re rewarded with a satisfied groan.

Though Kokushibo grips your hair he doesn’t attempt to guide you. You’re not used to setting your own pace but it’s a nice change. Your throat is still impacted but with a slower pace you can slide down to engulf him easier. When you reach the base your tongue slides out to taste the loose skin of his knot. You wonder if he’d like to cum like this or if you can convince the man to knot your cunt right now.

You try to slide off all the way to present yourself again but the grip on your hear tightens when you try to lift your head. You must look up at Kokushibo through wet lashes. His expression is mostly the same neutral mask but there’s maybe a twitch his lips.

With only a slight pause you sink back down onto his cock. His grip on your hair loosens once more to let you move on your own. It seems he’s satisfied as long as you keep your lips on his cock. Even when you slow Kokushibo’s hand remains flat against your head and follows your movements. You keep your pace quick anyways. At this point your cunt is soaking and needy.

When you press yourself all the way to the base of his dick and hold yourself there the length twitches in your throat. You repeat the motion several times to similar results.

It’s hard to hear anything over the wet sounds of your mouth but if you listen carefully Kokushibo’s breathing has picked up. Sometimes it stutters and stops until you pull back again.

Taking the noises as an encouragement you speed up slightly. Hopefully after the man has cum once you can get something in return.

The upper moon’s knot swells slightly without warning. It’s not a proper knot but your mouth still stretches wide to fit it. It only takes another moment until his seed is spilling down your throat.

Kokushibo growls and bends over you. Both his hands find a place in your hair. His hips thrust like it’s possible to be any deeper inside of you.

When he’s finished his body relaxes once more. Your throat stings as you pull back slowly. Once your mouth is free you drop your head into his lap. His hand moves through your hair, unintentionally perhaps, and it brings a soft noise out of your sore throat.

Kokushibo doesn’t seem in a hurry to fuck you. Will your head lies in his lap the demon sits still. The quiet is enough to bring you close to sleep. When Kokushibo notices your eyes half-closed he nudges your cheek with his knuckles.

You blink a few times, leaning back to sit up. Your throat feels fine now but you keep quiet.

“Present… again.”

You’re a little slower to turn around this time. When it comes to form you put all your energy there.

The lube still lingering on Kokushibo’s fingers is tacky and thin but your cunt is wet enough that the digit easily sinks into you. His hands move slower this time. The demon plunges his single finger in and out a few times to test your walls. It’s still not much stimulation but you’re eager now to receive his touches.

When a second finger enters he doesn’t immediately spear you open like before. His wrist rotates and digits curl until you’re panting and thrusting your ass higher.

Three fingers add up to a rather nice thickness. You could easily take more but the slow pace lets you fully absorb the pleasure given. When Kokushibo stretches his fingers out to pry your walls open a loud mewl falls through your lips.

The man pulls back for a brief moment. Slick drips from your cunt and smears over your thighs. A large hand envelopes your ass and pulls it to the side to further expose your pussy. You expect him to start spreading you open with his cock but there’s too long of a pause.

Breathing slowly you resist the urge to turn around. In your mind you begin to count to ten.

At six a wet kiss is pushed into your cunt. Your eyes blow wide open as you squeal with surprise. His free hand grips onto your waist. Holding you in place Kokushibo continues to manipulate your cunt with his tongue. What starts out as messing with the inner corners of your labia quickly turns into a wet muscle finding its way inside of you. Though Kokushibo moves quickly he is not chaotic. He knows you’re excited enough to easily accept the intrusion. After his fingers a tongue is almost too small.

It’s been a long time since you’ve had a partner give you pleasure without receiving something in turn. Though you do have a feeling Kokushibo is receiving his own kind of fun from this. You can easily guess that he is not the kind of person to do things for no reason. Other than that your brain is too busy being lit up with pleasure to consider the matter further.

“Alpha, K-kokushib-uh Alpha.” You try to move back on his face but you’re held firmly in place. His tongue plunges into your pussy and drinks up your slick. The appendage might not be thick but it’s unusually long (maybe even stretching as it explores) and reaches deep inside of you. The thin tip sweeps around your core until it brushes against your g-spot. You’re letting out a soft string of moans with each stroke of your walls.

It doesn’t take long until you’re hovering on the edge of an orgasm. Kokushibo is not messy or wild but the methodical nature of his tongue is much better. His one purpose is to make you cum and he will accomplish the task. The alternative of a typical partner— who wouldn’t even touch your cunt in the first place —would be desperate grinding until they spill into your pussy. In some cases they can’t make it that far. Most are sad excuses for demons and even sadder excuses for alpha’s. Kokushibo is quite literally a prime example of both.

You attempt to grind back onto his face again (This time slightly mote successfully) with a desperate noise. “Can-nuh cum alpha… please?” If he says no you might cry.

When he doesn’t answer at all you are trapped in purgatory. If you knew the man better, knew the punishment he’d dole out, you might take the chance to cum anyways. Kokushibo has certainly been a nice partner thus far but you wouldn’t like to test him. If anything you’d hope to keep his mood constant.

You nearly bite off your tongue in a desperate attempt not to cum. It’s much harder to even open your mouth now so your begging turns into unintelligible whimpers. Other than managing a few cut off cries for “alpha” and “Kokushibo” (both of which devolve into more moans) you can’t string together real sentences.

As your mouth is filled with more blood and you might pass out from holding yourself back too hard the upper moon pulls back for a brief moment. “You may cum when you’d like.” He gives permission like he’s talking about the weather.

You can’t even properly treasure your orgasm as it rips through your body. Kokushibo moves slightly faster to draw out you release. You lie limp on the futon, only twitching as your walls are continuously stroked.

When he pulls back and your hips are released you can’t keep yourself presented. You falls down into the soft cushion and make a few weak noises. “Thank you Kokushibo-alpha.” Your words are muffled through squished cheeks and drool.

The upper moon seems unsure of how to proceed. He doesn’t touch you for too long and when you glance back Kokushibo is simply sitting back in seiza.

“S-sorry I can…” Your bones crack as you push yourself back onto your hands and knees. As you move the feeling of cold slick smeared over your thighs makes you shiver.

His hand moves over your back and guides your ass even higher. A quick swipe of the futon between your legs wipes away excess wetness. You shudder at the uncomfortable feeling of slime dragging through your legs.

Afterwards though Kokushibo angles his hips behind your own and his cock brushes over your inner thigh. The warmth is a welcome change and true excitement warms your stomach.

When Kokushibo finally coaxes his cock into you the fit is impossibly tight. You wonder if the earlier cunnilingus was simply to get you squeezing down as tightly as possible. Giving up on doing any work you lie there limply while he slowly fucks in and out. The man doesn’t seem to mind that he’s doing virtually all the work. You suppose he might even enjoy it as a show of strength. To encourage him you exaggerate some of your moans. He slowly speeds up as you whine and grip at the sheets.

“It’s better this time,” he comments casually. You can’t think of an intelligent response, just humming in agreement.

His cock is a large thing. Even beyond his knot there unnatural bulbous bumps on the side that drag along your cunt. You wonder if a demon with so much power could intentionally make his anatomy more attractive to the other sex. Intentional or not it certainly does make you more excited. The head is large and kisses your cervix on particularly deep thrusts. It’s one of the nicer cocks you’ve had. Really Kokushibo has a lot of beauty compared to a typical demon’s features. You can’t see his body much as he slams into you from behind but when the opportunity presents itself you’ll certainly take it.

“O-oh Alpha.” The upper moon’s knot bulges and expands even further. You’re not close enough to cum on his knot but feeling of him stretching you out is still wonderful. With Kokushibo fucking you with less coordination you decide to finally put in some work. It’s hard to time your backward movements with heavy slaps against your ass but with experience you manage to meet some of his thrusts.

Kokushibo groans loudly now as he sinks into you. In hopes to move even deeper some of his weight is laid over your back. His breath echoes against your ear and tickles your neck. Long strands of auburn hair mix with your own.

There’s little warning before Kokushibo’s hips stall as his seed dumps into you. His knot isn’t fully expanded, much to your disappointment, but that doesn’t affect the force of his orgasm. If you were still human you’d surely be pregnant from the copious amount of seed pouring into your cunt. Some of it slips out and cools against your legs. The feeling makes you whine, long and high. It draws the man’s attention to his escaping seed. With a low growl he pushes the semen back inside your walls. The addition of a thick finger besides his half inflated knot shocks more arousal out of you.

The knot is just small enough that Kokushibo could pull away from you if he really tried but he stays stuck against your back. After a few quiet moments of breathing the man scoops you up and lies you on your side. Even without a full knot he intends on treating you with some amount of grace. You manage a soft purr which seems to please Kokushibo well enough.

Without another orgasm of your own or a proper knot having a warm body against your back is frustratingly arousing. Some sensation against your inner walls and the occasional twitch of his dick drags out your pleasure just enough to keep it active. When you try to roll your hips Kokushibo growls again. His teeth barely scrape against the back of neck. It’s meant to be a warning but the action only sends another hot wave through your stomach. You breathe slowly to keep your hips still.

He keeps hands dug into your waist even when you sit still for a few minutes. You’re not sure if he intends to rest or simply wants to assert more dominance. It’s hard to relax between stray sparks of arousal burning in your stomach. Whenever you’re calm enough to relax Kokushibo twitches (or his cock does) and you’re shocked back awake. Trying to whine or voice your discomfort only results in getting hushed once more.

—-

At some point you must’ve managed to fall asleep because you’re jerking awake as Kokushibo finally pulls away from you. The smell of his rut is stronger now, it’s been a few hours since your initial coupling at least. Lingering sleep drowns any arousal you might have felt from his hard cock dragging through your walls. “Are we goin’ again?” Your mumbling doesn’t help to urge your brain any more awake.

“Don’t move.” It’s not an answer but you listen anyways. Falling back into the futon you happily let your eyes slip shut once more. Faintly you’re aware of how Kokushibo moves behind you but you’re unbothered by it.

After a few seconds stretch out with no noise you manage to slide your eyes open once more. With a small glance behind yourself you see Kokushibo pulling out a new set of sheets. You sit up properly and peel the old dirty sheets off yourself. “I can help.”

The demon fixes you with a look that pins you back in place. “It’s fine.” The words are plain but you feel sheepish anyways. You feel guilt watching the man dig through your closer but following the orders you tuck yourself back into the warm (albiet a little bit gross) blankets.

It’s easy to fall limp in the comforting futon. Your guilt is easily erased by sleep pulling at your mind.

Kokushibo lifts you and you’re happy to curl up in his arms. He only carries you for a brief moment buy you’re struck by how gentle his hold is. After being deposited onto the new sheets you listen to the man get rid of the old sheets. The new ones are much cleaner and soft. There’s no crusty or wet spots you have to avoid.

“Won’t the sheets just get ruined again?”

“It’s fine.” You give a noncommittal hum to his noncommittal answer. You’re not sure if he has some other plan or just wanted fresh sheets to lie in before his rut started but either way the change is nice.

Faintly you hear your door click open and snap shut. For a moment you worry Kokushibo might’ve wanted a quick fuck before finding a true rut partner. When you sit up and look around the sight of the man’s robe calms you.

It turns out that there was no need to worry after all as Kokushibo is gone for less than an hour. He comes back with a stout woman in his arms, one of her legs already gone.

You watch him bundle her body into the filthy sheets to soak up some of her leaking blood. The man eats as elegantly as he does everything else. Long fingers tear the skin from muscle and bring it to his mouth without smearing any blood on his face. You don’t dare to take anything without permission but the smell of meat makes your mouth fill with saliva.

When Kokushibo leaves a hand on the filthy futon within your reach you still don’t move. Upper moons may be more capable of conversation but you’re still not eager to get between a demon and its food.

“Eat.” With his allowance you try your best to finish off the hand as elegantly as Kokushibo does. Already blood and flesh moves to hide under your fingernails. You keep your eyes averted as you suck on your fingers to pull out each bit of meat. If Kokushibo judges, or even sees you, he does not voice any disgust.

The hand is not particularly large but it is satisfying enough for the moment. You even crush the bones between your molars and grind fingernails into dust. There’s some blood smudged on the corners of your lips that you try to lap up as smoothly as possible. You shoot another cursory glance to Kokushibo to see that he has devoured half a leg. Still there are no stains or blemishes on his smooth skin.

“Do you have a bath?”

You perk up once more. “Yes! Would you like me to prepare you one?”

“Take one.” Whether the phrase is intended to be insulting or not your cheeks burn. Without a look towards him you nod and shuffle off towards the bathroom.

The water pump that guides clean water towards your bath is cold but you have no urge to heat it. You clean yourself quickly and methodically. It seems whatever tenderness you had brought out during sex was gone now. You can only hope that when he fucks you again the attentive nature will come back.

With a quick run of fingers through your hair you step back out into the room. It’s only been a handful of minutes but Kokushibo has sliced the women’s body up into fragments and wrapped them up into pieces of fabric. You’re still slightly soaking but when eyes dart over towards your wet form there’s no displeasure in them.

“What would you like me to do now?”

“I’m tired.” Kokushibo sounds like his age, an ornery old man. You supposed that there’s a chance he didn’t sleep while you were but to hear him express any weariness. “You can do what you’d like but stay clean, and don’t touch the food.” His large form passes beside you and falls into the new futon you have set out. You hope he doesn’t intend on changing the sheets anytime you fuck. There’s only one more set in the closet.

Whether Kokushibo actually intends on sleeping or not you move back towards the bathroom. If you knew he didn’t intend to fuck you right now you’ve would’ve enjoyed some warmth, which is what you intend to do.

—-

You’ve fallen asleep on a scrap of the futon. Leaning into Kokushibo’s side seemed like an odd, perhaps slightly scary, choice. With a large soft robe you didn’t mind the lack of coverage from the actual blanket.

It’s not clear how many hours have passed, your thick walls with no windows aren’t very good for telling time. When Kokushibo wakes you he nudges you with a bit of feverish urge. His scent in the air is much more overbearing now. Each breath of air encapsulates heavy spice.

Already the demon’s tongue glides over your bare skin. Half your robe has been slid off your body to expose your breasts. Hands wrap around your form to bring you closer to him.

Your tired brain struggles to catch up to his actions but the gentle touches are welcome. Another hand pushes down the rest of your robe and leaves you nude again. Kokushibo is naked too, which you realize after his cock slaps against your thigh.

With his rut in full swing he doesn’t waste time with talk. Teeth nip the side of your neck, right over your scent gland, but don’t quite break skin. It’s enough to make you shudder still and jerk your hips backwards.

His thick dick slides over your ass and the stimulation pushes a rough growl from his throat. With strong hands he pulls you into the center of the futon and lifts your ass high.

Though there was a distinct lack of foreplay when a finger probes your insides this time you’re soaked. With only a minute or two of his scent filling your nose it’s awoken your own needs.

Kokushibo mounts you quickly enough. With a few quick thrusts he plants his whole cock inside of you. “Mgh- Alpha!” You were plenty wet but the insertion of his cock stretches you wide.

This fucking is much quicker, both of you cumming in quick succession. Again his knot doesn’t quite fill out completely which leaves you moaning with frustration. The skin that does fill you up should be satisfying enough but knowing there’s more that is left for you makes your cunt ache.

There are no words exchanged. Kokushibo does not eat or order you to bathe again. The demon simply drags your hips with his own movements and lies back down.

—-

Eventually even Kokushibo gets lost in the daze of his rut. At that point you’re equally drunk on the pheromones, too dizzy to process what’s going on either. You wake up, fuck, chew on the bones to try and get more substance from them, and fall back asleep. The man looses most of his finesse a few days in, but any type of stimulation ignites arousal in your body. Even when he’s not fucking you, hands over your hips or stomach burn with his touch.

When you’re finally knotted properly you nearly scream. The feeling of his thick knot filling you up fully is like pure heaven. It beats out every other partner than has even seen your cunt. A full fist couldn’t compare to the girth of Kokushibo’s stable knot.

The upper moon insists on having you present properly. A position in which his cock buries deep inside you. The only exception is lazy fucking while you lie on your side. When you’re barely awake or almost asleep the alpha is almost sensitive to your needs. Though he tries the fucking usually ends up with your face buried into a pillow, sometimes nearly choking on it.

The dirty futon thankfully does not seem to bother the man in this state. At least not so much that you’re forced to migrate. Instead he just growls and huffs if he sits on a particularly sticky area. Each time he does so you have to hold back a snort of laughter.

As you eat coagulated blood also drips onto the blanket. The woman’s body is not as good when it isn’t fresh but it gives you more energy. With a typical mating partner you are used to not getting to meal at all.

Afterwards when there is blood smeared all over both your faces you are happy enough to suck it off his skin. Kokushibou doesn’t moan often but if you lick up his adams apple he groans deeply and digs his fingers into your scalp.

The kissing is what you enjoy most. While the upper moon isn’t very romantic he kisses back when you initiate, which you do often. Whether you’re fucking or not the taste of his skin twists your stomach. You make sure to kiss him whenever you can get away with it.

After each fuck Kokushibo keeps you within his arms. It might be for simple convenience or instincts pushing him to protect an omega but you enjoy the manhandling. On occasion you might even crawl away a foot or two to feel his hands wrap around your ankles. He growls afterwards and drags his teeth over your bare skin. The pin pricks heal in less than a second but the feeling lingers long after. He doesn’t seem to realize you’re unthreatened by the nips, at least not when they barely tickle your back.

—-

The heat ends much quicker than it began. There is no last drawn out slow fuck. One morning you wake up to find a much fainter scent. Kokushibo is not in the futon. Instead he rests against the wall, finishing off the last bits of meat the woman has to offer.

You move to cover your body. You find your thin robe thrown into one of the corners. The upper moon has once again donned his full suit.

For a while he sits in the corner quietly. You watch him with questioning eyes but the man offers no answer. You don’t move around much. Demons aren’t supposed to have any lasting pain or injuries but when the week ends your hips are sore and you can barely move. Turning or trying to stand makes you groan or whimper. Other than gathering some of the dirty laundry (though not the remaining futon, as filthy as it is) you choose to remain curled up in comfort. An hour or so passes that way. Kokushibo could pass as a statue.

When the upper moon finally stands you groan and push yourself upwards once more. Your stance is horribly unstable, knees bent inwards and ankles shaking. Kokushibo is not entirely sympathetic but he offers a supporting hand when he passes you.

You move towards the bathroom, expecting him to follow, but his hand slips out of yours.

“I will be back next year.” Kokushibo hardly spares you a second glance before a biwa strums and you are left alone in the room.

You’re stunned at the silence but the promise of next year makes your cunt throb.

[ferigrieving]

two feet to the left.

⊹ ࣪ dilute me, i tell them / make me easier to love.

a.n wrote this ages ago and then forgot about it my bad fazgang

⤷ masterlist ; requests open

you had never really understood the term 'out of body experience'. how would you experience something if you weren't there? you couldn't even begin to fathom how that would work. you didn't bother trying to figure out the specifics.

but now, sitting cross legged across from your boyfriend, his hand on your thigh gently, you think you could begin to understand why people hated it so much. you felt like a spectator in your own body, watching yourself from two feet to the left.

raising your right hand, you tried wiggling your fingers. your father once told you if you were stuck in sleep paralysis, to begin by moving your toes. you watched as shinsou placed his hand to yours, intertwining his fingers with yours and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

he had voiced his qualms about wanting to figure out if he could use someone's quirk while they were brainwashed. you had wondered that sometimes, but were too embarrassed to ask him straightforwardly. you had volunteered yourself as some form of tribute, not knowing what you'd get yourself into.

"raise your right hand, love."

and you did. you watched yourself raise your right hand, your arm lifting up in the air before you lowered it again.

you felt yourself blink. you haven't given any mental command for you to do it. you felt like an automaton, watching as shinsou took notice of your movement. 

"hmm," he murmured, raising his own hand to caress your cheek. he brought his face closer to yours, his expression blank, save for his eyes that shone with curiosity and fascination. "say something."

a breath hitched in the back of your throat as you watched yourself open your mouth, your voice low.

"hey, shinsou," you spoke, your words feeling almost foreign in your mouth. it was as if you had no control over what you said. it was a strange sensation, not being able to move or speak freely.

but shinsou seemed pleased. his eyes widened in delight, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"oh, this is working," he said, his voice laced with excitement. "this is really working."

he took hold of your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. he looked at you with a mixture of awe and wonder, studying your expression intently.

"i never thought this would actually work," he murmured, his fingers tracing along the line of your jaw. "this is fascinating."

he paused for a moment, his gaze drifting to your lips before returning to your eyes. he appeared to be contemplating something.

"say something embarrassing," he instructed, his voice firm yet playful. there was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he looked at you.

you felt your jaw move automatically, the words spilling from your lips without your conscious thought.

"i love you," you said, your tone flat and emotionless. why did your mind choose that out of all things?

it was as though someone else was speaking through you, using your voice to express sentiments you weren't fully in control of. 

shinsou chuckled softly, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. he seemed pleased by your response, his hand moving from your chin to gently caress the back of your neck.

"that's not embarrassing," he said, his voice a low gravelly murmur. "say something more embarrassing. something that would make you squirm if you were in full control."

your mouth opened once again, moving entirely on its own accord. the words spilled out without your control.

"i really like it when you call me nicknames," you admitted, your voice deadpan and lacking any hint of embarrassment. "i find it really cute when you call me... darling."

shinsou raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying this experimentation. it was like he had his own telenovela, catered and played by the only actor in the world that mattered. 

"oh, do you now?" he teased, his fingers tracing patterns on the nape of your neck. "i never would have guessed that you enjoy being called darling. and i suppose you wouldn't mind when i call you baby or sweetheart as well?"

your mouth moved, without your consent, to answer him.

"i... i like those, too," you confessed, your voice betraying no hint of emotion. it was as if someone else was in control of your vocal chords, using them to speak against your will. 

shinsou hummed thoughtfully, seemingly satisfied with your compliance. he shifted closer to you on the bed, his leg bumping against yours. "hmm, i wonder what else i can make you do.”

he lifted a hand and trailed a finger along your bottom lip, his touch light and feathery. 

"smile for me," he commanded, his voice gentle yet commanding. 

you felt your lips curve upwards into a small smile against your will. it felt strange and involuntary, like your facial muscles were moving without your conscious thought. you hoped your smile looked nice. you dont remember if you brushed your teeth today.

shinsou chuckled once more, his eyes gleaming with amusement. he seemed to be deriving immense pleasure from this experiment. 

"that's quite an obedient little puppet i have here," he remarked, his tone playful and slightly teasing. "but i want to see more."

he paused for a moment, contemplating his next command.

“use your quirk.”

you felt a jolt of surprise course through you. this was something you hadn't considered. could you use your quirk while brainwashed? 

as soon as the thought crossed your mind, your body began to move, responding to the command.

telepathy.

your brain immediately flared up into activity, the familiar feeling of your quirk activating washing over you. your eyes widened inadvertently, surprise flashing across your face. 

it worked. despite being brainwashed, your quirk still responded to your will.

shinsou seemed taken aback by your sudden display of quirk usage. his fingers paused in their tracing, a look of intrigue crossing his face.

is this thing on?

shinsou's eyes widened slightly as he heard your voice in his mind. he had expected you to comply with his command, but he hadn't anticipated this. it was odd, like there was a little snail in his head telling him what to do.

how are you talking to me..? he asked mentally, a tinge of surprise in his tone.

you felt a pang of satisfaction at his reaction. it seemed that your quirk could somehow override the effects of his brainwashing, at least to some extent.

im using my quirk, you replied mentally, feeling a pang of excitement. it still works even when im brainwashed, apparently.

shinsou processed this information, a frown playing at the corners of his lips. he had assumed that your quirk would be suppressed while under his control. 

interesting, he thought back to you. thats useful to know, baby.

a moment of silence passed between the two of you, both of you contemplating the implications of this newfound knowledge. he wondered if this would work on people with physical quirks. could he make kirishima toughen up on command? or midoriya use air force ? would his quirk work on both tokoyami and dark shadow, or would he be free to do as he pleases?

the possibilities seemed endless, and shinsou's eyes glimmered with excitement at the thought of the potential applications.

he snapped out of his thoughts, looking back at you. he ran his fingers through your hair, seemingly contemplating something.

"this is real cool," he murmured, his tone thoughtful. "i never thought your quirk would still work while you're brainwashed."

he paused for a moment, his eyes fixated on yours as he continued to rake his fingers through your hair.

"i wonder what other things i can make you do while brainwashed," he said, his tone growing more mischievous. "do you think you're still capable of doing complex tasks? could you, perhaps, do my homework for me?"

seriously, love? you could make me do anything in the world, and you choose making me do your homework?

shinsou chuckled at your mental response, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. he leaned back, resting his weight on his hands as he regarded you with a playful glint in his eyes.

"maybe," he teased, his voice laced with amusement. "but wouldn't it be more fun if you had to do it, even if it's under my control? seeing you do my homework for me, all brainwashed and obedient..."

im gonna beat the shit out of you once your quirk wears off.

shinsou tilted his head back and laughed heartily at your mental threat. he enjoyed riling you up it seems. you wanted nothing more than to tackle the man and tickle him until he started crying. but that’d have to wait until later. 

"oh, i'm shaking in my boots," he replied sarcastically, his tone dripping with mock fear. "i'm so terrified of a brainwashed puppet like you, who can only do what i command. how menacing."

he reached out and gently poked your cheek, a teasing grin on his face.

"but seriously, i'm curious," he said, his tone growing more serious. "can you actually do my homework while you're brainwashed, or is it too complicated with your thought processes being hijacked?"

no clue. don't make me try it. i swear to god, ‘toshi.

shinsou chuckled again, finding your stubbornness both endearing and amusing. he raised an eyebrow in mock disappointment.

"aww, come on," he protested playfully. "i was so looking forward to having a brainwashed personal homework machine. you'd just sit there, all blank and obedient, and solve equations and write essays for me. it would be so convenient!"

he huffed out a sigh, feigning a pout.

"oh, well," he said, his tone melodramatic. "i guess i'll just have to do it myself. how tragic. how cruel of you to deny me the joy of having a brainwashed homework servant."

the effects of his quirk slowly wear off, like a snake shedding its skin. you could feel your mind slowly clearing and your thoughts becoming more coherent. it was as if a fog had lifted, freeing you from the haze of his control.

shinsou seemed to notice the change in you, his eyes studying your expression intently as you began snapping out of your brainwashed state. he observed the way your eyes became more focused and alert, losing their vacant quality. he could practically see the gears turning in your mind as you gradually regained control over your own body.

"well, that's interesting," he mused aloud, his eyes never leaving your face. "you snapped out of it sooner than i thought. i guess your quirk really does counteract mine to a degree."

before you could speak, he let out a sigh, his expression becoming apologetic.

"sorry if i pushed you too far," he said, his voice softer now. "i just got carried away with the whole experiment thing. i never expected your quirk to be able to overpower mine like that."

"its okay, love. i signed up for it. did you get the answers you wanted?" you murmured, stretching as if you had just woken up from a thousand year nap.

shinsou nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"yeah, i think i did," he replied, his tone thoughtful. "it was fascinating to see how your quirk interacted with mine. it really threw a wrench in my plans. but i guess that's just how you are. always keeping me on my toes."

he chuckled softly, his eyes filled with adoration.  "you're a bit of a wild card, darling.”

 "but i wouldn't have it any other way," he added, grinning lazily at you. "i like having someone unpredictable and feisty like you in my life. it keeps things interesting."

“that so?”

shinsou nodded vehemently, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. 

"absolutely," he said, his tone filled with conviction. "who wants a partner who's predictable and dull? you keep me on my toes, and that's exactly what i like about you. i'd be bored out of my mind if you were obedient and willing to do everything i ask."

“i literally was exactly that like a minute ago, love.”

shinsou rolled his eyes in mock frustration.

"oh, don't remind me," he muttered, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "you were so obedient and agreeable, it was like having a mindless puppet at my disposal. but now you're back to being your stubborn and defiant self, and i love it."

he looked at you with a smug grin, clearly enjoying the banter.

"in fact, i'd go as far as to say you're the least obedient partner i've ever had," he teased, his tone playful. "you always like to do things your own way, no matter what i say or do."

“...you’ve had other partners?” 

shinsou feigned surprise, raising an eyebrow. 

"jealous, darling?"

he chuckled softly, his gaze flickering over your face. 

"of course i've had other partners before," he admitted, his tone nonchalant. "i'm not exactly new to dating, you know. doesn't every teenager have relationships before they find they one?"

“you’re my first, ‘toshi.”

shinsou's expression softened at your revelation, his gaze growing gentle. he reached out and took your hand in his, gently intertwining his fingers with yours.

"really?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "i'm your first?"

"mhm. hope you're my last too. if you break up with me, ill cut your balls off."

shinsou's eyes widened almost comically, a mixture of shock and amusement flashing across his face. he chuckled softly, a hand instinctively moving to protect his nether regions.

"darling, that's a pretty harsh consequence for breaking up," he replied, his tone filled with mock concern. "are you really prepared to go to such lengths to keep me around?"

you nodded, rolling over on the bed and splaying yourself out. “mhm. love you.”

shinsou's expression softened, a warm smile spreading across his face. 

"i love you too, darling," he replied, his voice laced with affection. "but i hope you won't actually cut off my balls if we ever break up. i'd like to keep them where they are, thank you very much."

he chuckled softly, reaching out to tousle your hair playfully. "but i don't plan on breaking up with you anytime soon. you're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

shinsou moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap. he rested his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling his face against your neck.

"and i intend to keep you close for a very, very long time," he murmured, his voice low and affectionate.

[happy-beeeps]

Naïveté

Summary: Astarion begins to reconcile with the fact he might have fallen for you, only to worry you've caught an interest in someone else. Earllllllly act 2, minor spoilers for act 2!

Pairing: Astarion x f!tav

Warnings/tags: fluff, miscommunication if you squint, jealous!astarion, platonic!wyll x tav, slightly ooc Astarion because I'm still learning to write him so be nice PLEASE😭🥺

WC: 2k

a/n: I'm finishing a character sheet for tav so we can have her backstory, but she's who I've been using this playthrough and I've been really enjoying her story. When I post on Ao3 she'll have a name, but I'm going to leave her unnamed here! Also, will have a seperate BG3 spot on my masterlist soon!

It’s late at camp, and by the time you finish indulging in a bottle of wine with Karlach, you figure you’re the only one still up. It’s been a long night, and an even longer few days, spent trudging through the grimy depths of the Shadowcursed lands and just barely making it out of the encounter with Marcus alive. Isobel had given you the ability to travel freely, but all you could do was set up camp near the inn.

The firelight is dim when you make your way back from the secluded spot near Karlach’s tent, and Astarion’s tent is sealed tightly. You contemplate going over, just peaking your head in to see if he’s deep in trance yet, but you change your mind. After your previous night’s conversation, you’re still not sure on speaking terms. It plays out over and over again in your mind. Naive, he’d called you, your heart was too big. 

You tried to be reasonable. You were naive. You were young, and perhaps no one but Wyll new exactly how young. To be ninety as an elf was to be just becoming an adult. No one else had known, no else had asked, including Astarion. You chalked it up to his truly immortal lifespan, he hadn’t cared about aging for 200 years, why start now?

Still, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him, or the thrill that shook your bones when he would quietly rush into your tent each morning, murmuring the incantation for lesser restoration. You still thought of the way he looked at Gale when he asked to consume that locket all those days back. “I’m glad you let him suffer for a moment, darling,” he’d murmured into your ear that night, his breath tingly on your neck, “That one’s ours.”

There’d been other nights since your first night together, while you hadn’t slept together in completion since, all passion and teeth and sweat. Sometimes you’d just kiss him, wrapped up in nothing else but this bliss of arms and scent. Lately though, he’d been closed off—distant. His conversation the previous night had come out of nowhere, as if you were standing on the doorstep of Moonrise Towers that very instant. 

You were so lost in your own thoughts, consumed of Astarion, that you nearly missed Wyll’s form standing near the dimming fire, moving around in a dance you actually recognized.

“I hope I’m not interrupting practice,” you smiled, giving the man ample warning before you stumbled into his rehearsal. 

Wyll wheeled on you, a faint blush growing across his cheeks. “It’s one of those old courting dances, it’d be a cold day in the hells before I’d ever forget them.”

“Oh I’m quite familiar,” you murmured, thinking back to your own youth, your own debutante ball, before you lost everything. “Everyone else around here forgets I come from taste.”

Wyll snorts, “Sure don’t smell like it.”

Your friendship with Wyll is a special thing. No one else can understand what it felt like to be from a Noble family, the expectations and the experience it comes with. When your family had been killed and their wealth assumed, you were completely on your own. Learning how to pickpockets and lie had not been a part of your expensive and tasteful education.

Dancing, however, came second nature.

You move to stand in front of him without really thinking, decades of experience guiding your motions. “Go on, let’s see what you can do.”

He’s a fine partner, moving cautiously around you and guiding your hand easily. Even when he brings you closer for a slightly more intimate dance, his hands nor his eyes never stray. 

“I wonder what I’d have done if I ever saw you at one of the balls my father sent me too.” He murmurs.

“I’m certain you did. Though you would’ve been young. I haven’t been in nearly a decade.”

He chuckles, and clucks his tongue for a moment, “Just practically a baby, far to young to approach Fey nobility.” Before bowing in front of you and wishing you goodnight. There’s the smallest beat where he looks at you as if he has something to say. You look at him for the smallest moment. It would be so easy to love him, if you were anyone else. He’s exactly who your father would have picked for you, save his humanity. But, despite it, you can’t. You can’t fake the flutter you get when you Astarion’s cold hands tickle your fingers, or the tickle of his hair on your cheek when he’s pressed against your neck. You’re not naive enough to admit this to Astarion, but from the fleeting glance you send to his tent, you can see that Wyll already knows. He leaves you with a knowing glance and a soft goodnight. You go back to your own tent, happy to have removed the thought of the curse, of Ketheric, and even of your own problems for just a moment.

So full of contentedness in fact, you don’t notice the scarlet eyes peering at you from the slat of their tent, a whirlwind of emotions cascading over them.

* * *

Astarion doesn’t hide his mild disdain for Wyll, or anyone to be fair, to begin with, but the following morning he bears down on the man like an ogre. “I didn’t anticipate you being quite so light on your feet. The Blade stands at the ready, and also ready to pirouette, I suppose?”

Wyll rolls his eyes at Astarion’s quip, used to the sarcasm, but somewhat surprised at the intensity of the rogue’s grip on his arm. “Wasn’t aware I couldn’t have past times.”

“By all means feel free to entertain us with a ballet in between slaughters,” his voice hushes as you walk by, looking at the two men skeptically, “I’d just prefer if your duets didn’t happen whilst I’m trying to read.”

Wyll follows Astarion’s slightly fleeting to his retreating gaze. You’re standing behind him, out of earshot, leaning against Lae’zel’s tent while she sharpens your sword. Astarion’s stare is enough to allow him to piece everything together. “Can I give you a word of advice?”

“Only if you accept that I may ignore it entirely.”

“She’s wonderful. And she’s made her choice without giving anyone else a chance. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste it, wouldn’t kill you to get to know her.”

Wyll walks away, and Astarion is left alone again with his thoughts. Contrary to Wyll’s belief, he thinks it might actually kill him to get to know you. He’s been balancing precariously on his fight to not let himself be fully consumed by you and your grace, your goodness. You were a spoilt little thing, he was sure of that, and he had meant what he said that night by the water. It didn’t mean it hurt his chest more when your face fell. “Naive?” there was a crack in your cool, crafted facade. Genuine hurt had settled there for a moment, and something akin to disappointment. He hadn’t known how to face you since, hadn’t known how to say “I’m sorry! I’m falling for you and can’t help it and I’m terrified!”

So instead he said nothing at all, and resolved to say something later.

* * *

You had just gotten back to camp for the night, Karlach nearly giggling at the amount of gold she had stuffed in her pockets from the tollhouse. You had noticed Astarion’s eyes on you, heavy and pensive, when you had dealt with the Master of Coin, how easily you’d convinced her to simply cease to be. That was perhaps the easiest transition from nobility to rogue you had, the gift of a silver tongue and wide, batting eyes.

You changed into your camp clothes and watched Karlach throw gold pieces at an increasingly irritated Lae’zel, Gale standing nearby doing his best to keep spirits high in this eerie camp, working with whatever cured meats and cheeses you still had to attempt to make a dinner. You had changed into camp clothes and grabbed one of the books you had found in the tollmaster’s office, a shockingly smutty romance novel that had to be even older than you. It was quiet in the corner you found, somewhere even Halsin’s booming laugh had faded into quiet background noise. You tried to not think about your surroundings, about your increasing frustration with Astarion, or the odd way his gaze had hung on you all day. 

“I’m always impressed by that tongue of yours, petal.” The vampire’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and he settled beside you on the ground, arms behind him as he reclined easily next to you.

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, and the pet name. “Yet you’ve been leaving me and my tongue to our thoughts the past few days.” You huffed, flipping the book to the next page, though not really reading any of it 

If Astarion could blush, he looked as if he would. “We’ve been a bit busy darling. I’ve been…strategizing.”

“Strategizing?”

“Precisely.”

The quiet overtook the two of you. After being so distant, if he didn’t want to come to you, then so be it. You could not—would not–crack first. He could not even begin to know the bubbling furnace of your feelings, or you’d be positively done for.

“How old are you?”

His question strikes you, strikes you enough that you set the book off to the side and face him. “At what point did you start to ask me questions?”

“When I realized I had done something to anger my favorite companion,” his fingers reach out and trace small patterns on your skin. “How old are you?”

“Ninety.” Your voice moves to a whisper at the end of the word, and his eyebrows quirk.

“Only ninety and yet alone. And Balduran?”

“Yes, but I haven’t lived there since I was seventy five.”

“Something happened,” he rocks upward, now sitting nearer to you. “You weren’t supposed to be like this.”

“Perhaps that’s why I’m so naive.” It comes out more bitter than you meant, but oh well. He deserved it.

“Naive wasn’t the right word,” he looks like he’s fighting himself to turn out the next sentence. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

You smile softly, laying a hand on top of his. “I don’t know if I believe that, but I appreciate the apology.”

He grins, his deep set smile lines settling in your favorite way. “Tell me about your childhood.”

You shrug, “There’s not much to say. I was an only child, an only daughter. I used to play the lyre, learn languages, paint–”

“You come from nobility.”

“I sort of thought it was obvious,” you shrug and tap your knee against his, “I wasn’t supposed to be out in the middle of a campground, much less learning the ways of a rogue.”

“What were you supposed to be?”

“A wife, I guess.”

“And while I’m sure suitors everywhere are devastated, I much prefer my rogue.”

My. You don’t say anything and neither does he. You let the word hang there, testing to see if he reaches back to grab it, but he doesn’t. It gets quiet for a moment after that, and you can see him spinning the illusion in his head. You, swathed in organza, spinning around a marble ballroom, entertaining suitors. 

“Is that why you danced with Wyll?”

“Ah,” you smile and rest your head on his shoulder. You love these fleeting moments of intimacy, where you can both pretend to be nothing more than lovers on an adventure. “So this was spurred by jealousy?”

“As if I have anything to be jealous over Wyll. He wishes he looked half as good as me.” His words lack their normal bite, and he turns his head softly, so he’s speaking quietly, just to you. “But perhaps in the future you’d let me take you for a spin.”

You press your hand against his on the ground. “You need only ask.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

There’s so much more you both want to say, confessions on the precipice of both your minds, but you say nothing. You idle together a touch longer, hands resting against each other, pretending neither of you can get hurt, envisioning a world where it’s him spinning you across the dance floor in a world where you could have each other.

[doumadono]

Hii!! I wanna send an emergency request and I'm sorry if it's too much or anything but a week ago it was my birthday and the exact same day my grandma passed away. My grandma is one of the people dearest and close to me so losing her,especially on my birthday, It hurts alot. My birthday wasn't happy that day, usually my grandma would bake me a cake and my favorite foods that would always bring me joy and now it's gone, she's gone and I can't do anything about it but accept. I was wondering if you could do Katsuki comforting gn!reader? I really appreciate if you do. 💕

"Lean on me" - Bakugo x gn!Reader

A/N: I’m so so sorry for your loss. Your grandma sounds like an incredible person who brought so much joy to your life. It’s okay to grieve and miss her deeply. Hold on to those cherished memories and allow yourself to feel all the emotions

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting the dorm room in a gentle twilight. The only sound was the soft rustling of pages turning as you sat curled up on the sofa, trying to distract yourself with a book. Yet, the words blurred together, your mind too occupied with the heavy weight of grief to focus.

Your birthday had always been a day of joy, a day filled with laughter, homemade cakes, and your grandma's warm embrace. But this year, the day had taken a cruel turn. The news of her passing still echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of the irreplaceable loss you had suffered.

A gentle knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. Before you could respond, the door creaked open, and Katsuki Bakugo, your classmate, walked in. "Hey, nerd," he said, his voice gruff yet unusually gentle. "Mind if I join you?"

You nodded, managing a small, grateful smile as he settled beside you.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

"I know today was supposed to be different," Katsuki began, his voice low and steady. "And I know it hurts like hell. Losing someone you love, especially like this... It's not something you just get over, goddammit."

You glanced up at him, surprised by the depth of understanding in his words.

Katsuki had always been tough, sometimes even abrasive, but in this moment, he was showing a side of himself you rarely saw.

"I don't have any magic words to make it better," he continued, his eyes meeting yours. "But I can tell you this - it's okay to feel like crap. It's okay to miss her, to cry, to be angry. You're allowed to feel everything you're feeling."

A tear rolled down your cheek, and Katsuki reached out, brushing it away with surprising gentleness. "She loved you. And she wouldn't want you to be alone right now."

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat, and more tears streamed down your flushed cheeks.

"Remember the good times," your friend said softly. "The way she smiled, the way she made you laugh. Keep those memories close. They don't replace her, but they can help you carry on."

His words were like a balm to your aching heart. You leaned into him, finding solace in his warmth and strength while you choked yourself on your own tears. "It's not fair!"

Katsuki wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as you let the tears flow freely. "I know, Y/N. But I'm here for you," he murmured. "Not just today, but every goddamn day. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. Just tell me, yeah?"

For a while, you simply sat there, finding comfort in Katsuki's steady presence. The pain of your loss was still there, a deep, aching void, but his support made it a little more bearable.

Eventually, the tears subsided, leaving you feeling exhausted but a little lighter. You looked up at Katsuki, offering him a small, grateful smile. "Thanks," you whispered. "I just hope I'll be able to... You know... To go through this."

"You're strong, and you'll get through this, no doubt here. And I'll be right here with you, little nerd. And you can always lean on me."