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morelikeravenbore · 7 months ago

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Pandora's Book, part one

🔞 Sebastian Sallow x Book | PART ONE

Unhinged!Sebastian, objectophilia, sexual acts with a (sort of) inanimate object, an exploration of grief and acute loneliness. Seventh year, minor changes to canon.

Warning: explicit content. All characters 18+. Minors do not interact. Reader discretion is advised.

Seeking distraction from his interminable apathy, or a temporary relief from his guilt that didn't resort to obliterating his own memory, the girls he took made him feel good, said pretty things that made him believe, for a while, that he wasn't broken and irredeemable. But then, issues of that nature were likely a job for St Mungos rather than some girl's mouth in the back of a disused classroom, and over time, the thrill of mindlessly fucking his pain away began to dull, and he recoiled from their sweet nothings and gentle affections; like everything else in Sebastian's life, even the flames of desire eventually turned cold, and his escapades became less about feeling better and more about feeling anything.

Still, he couldn't say with any measure of truth that he'd felt anything like this from a book before.

A/N: Erm. I'm not even sure how to introduce this one, but I've had this idea in my head for months now and — well, brain rot. I KNOW it sounds like a crackfic — and it kind of is — but it's also an (unhinged and smutty) exploration of grief. This'll be a multipart story, probably three parts. I'll update as quickly as I can but I'm a turtle writer so please be patient with me. Thanks for reading, fellow unhinged bebes, I luv u.

Word count: 3k

[ao3 | wattpad] ✨ [HL fic masterlist]

The gate is opened, and the night

Rushes across the sky with a shout.

The gate is opened, and the evil

Comes pouring out.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁺ . ⁺ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

'Oh, shut up, would you?' Sebastian muttered as a particularly vocal book wailed directly in his ear.

Darkness surrounds you... your soul is lost, torn between light and dark, ripped to shreds by your own hand... darkness creeps, ever closer... ever closer...

'Yeah, yeah,' he muttered, pausing just long enough to cast a cursory glance at whichever accursed book was taunting him aloud this time. Ah, of course: Secrets of the Darkest Arts. That one had always been especially antagonistic toward him — even before he'd murdered his uncle.

Rolling his eyes, he gave the offending book a swift two-fingered prod, sliding it deeper into the dark recesses of the shelf it was chained to. It shuddered with indignation — if a book was capable of such a thing — and cursed him so vehemently in Latin he would've been impressed had it not been calling his dead mother a swine.

Unphased, Sebastian scoffed and kept walking, the sound of his footsteps dampened between towering bookshelves as he made his way deeper into the deathly stillness of the library.

To another, perhaps less traumatised sort of person, the idea of inanimate objects giving voice might've been a bit unsettling, but Sebastian was quite used to books shouting at him by now; having spent more time in the Restricted Section than he suspected even the librarian had, their disembodied voices were sometimes the only interaction he got outside of his N.E.W.T classes — that is, if he didn't count Ominis Gaunt, whose insults were often far worse than anything a Dark Arts book could conjure, and who generally addressed him with an equal amount of spite and derision. In fact, Ominis was partly the reason why Sebastian spent so much time alone with a bunch of talking books to begin with: it was one thing for a book to berate you for all your past mistakes, but quite another when it came from your best friend.

No, when it came to facing resentment, Sebastian would sooner bear the brunt of it from some gruesome edition of Magick Moste Evile than see it written clearly across another's face. In fact, there'd been a time when the incorporeal voices of those awful books had enticed him, called out to him like a siren song, drawn him in with promises of power and glory the likes of which he'd never dreamed of. And he, driven by his desperation to free his twin sister from the grips of a dark curse, had immersed himself in their age-browned pages so thoroughly he'd begun to hear their voices in his dreams.

But that was then.

Now, those ghostly whispers, once a comfort to a boy who'd had very little of it in his life, were more like the incessant buzzing of insects, harsh and irritating. He was no longer interested in what secrets they had to offer him: Anne was dead, and nothing in any book would ever bring her back — of that, he was certain.

Stretching up to reach a high shelf, Sebastian slid another misplaced book into its correct place, feeling a sense of pride he seldom felt any more. Being voiceless, this particular book couldn't thank him for his tireless commitment to reorganising the forbidden library, but at least it couldn't offend him, either.

Having nowhere else to go after his classes and homework were done, he'd come to frequent this part of the castle so often that he'd appointed himself as an unofficial librarian of sorts. Judging by the general air of neglect about the place, old Scribner never bothered venturing this deep into the forbidden recesses of the library, so rather than tossing and turning in his bed, Sebastian spent his restless nights bringing some semblance of order to the forsaken space, dusting shelves, repairing book spines, and clearing out the infestations of spiders that'd taken up residence in the darkest corners. It didn't matter if every so often some ancient tome insulted his dead parents or taunted him for his lack of an intact soul, if it was incorrectly catalogued, missing a cover, or simply in need of a good clean, he would diligently set it right again and move on. It was a library, after all, albeit a nefarious one, and it deserved respect.

He was just turning a darkened corner, muttering about the lack of proper organisation and general disregard for the correct cataloguing procedures when something — no, someone — distinctly moaned his name.

Well, that was new.

Sebastian stopped dead in his tracks. In all the time he'd haunted these aisles, he'd never once come across another living soul — at least, none who wasn't made of paper and evil.

Calmly depositing his armful of books onto a nearby desk, he withdrew his wand from his pocket. Not much scared him any more — committing murder and raising the dead made one rather fearless in the face of anything less — but it was apprehension, not fear, that had him casting Homenum Revelio under his breath. This was his peaceful hideaway; he neither wanted to share it nor have it taken away by some meddlesome idiot.

But the spell resounded through the empty library, detecting no living presence besides his own.

He was alone.

Strange. Either Sebastian was officially going mad, or the books were becoming more sentient — for all their moaning, whining and idle threats of bodily harm, none had ever addressed him by name before.

He paused, held his breath, strained his ears.

There! — There it was again, a distinctly feminine voice calling out for him.

s e b a s t i a n... i n e e d y o u...

Swearing under his breath, he followed the spectral call as best he could, his fingers trailing over the dusty shelves as he hurried down the aisle, leaving streaks through the grime that might lead him back should be lose his way.

As desensitised as he was to all thinges evile, some distant part of him wondered whether he might be better off ignoring the call of this one — he was surrounded by evil books, after all, and Sebastian wasn't stupid enough to forget that anything gained from cursed pages demanded something of the reader in return: a sacrifice, some sanity, a little piece of the soul. But the desperation in that voice, the pain — the longing...

'Say it again!'

Whimpering moans, a body squirming beneath his; the cute Ravenclaw had been giving him the eyes for weeks before he'd finally gotten her alone.

'Say it again, or I won't give you what you want.'

Lustful eyes met his — pretty, but he couldn't recall their colour now; they all looked the same after a while.

'I need you,' she whined, grinding her hips against his. 'Sebastian, I need you.'

He was sweating by the time he found it; tucked away in a small side chamber he hadn't gotten around to cleaning yet, and half-hidden behind piles of long-forgotten junk, the voice called to him from an innocuous-looking cabinet in the corner. Its glass panels were thick with dust, but the door opened easily, unobstructed by lock or magic.

Inside, the books weren't chained to their shelves or bound shut with leather straps, nor made of flesh or covered in suspicious-looking stains. They were just — books; plain old inanimate books.

All but one.

He wasn't exactly sure what first drew him to it. Instinct, he supposed, for it bore no title to pique his interest, and the cover was dull and plain, free of any macabre embellishments that usually made restricted books so alluring. But when his gaze settled upon it, the sudden, terrible ache at his separation made him sure this was the one.

Mine.

He snatched it up, clutched it to his chest — laboured breaths mingled with his; the book was panting as hard as he was, sweet, breathy whimpers against his chest — and when he felt a second heartbeat thumping against his own, knew he'd sooner die than ever let it go again.

s e b a s t i a n...

'Yes,' he growled, squeezing it tighter, his grip possessive.

i n e e d y o u...

'I know.'

w a i t e d s o l o n g...

Striding over to a small table against the far wall, he cleared a space amongst the ancient clutter and gently laid the precious tome atop it, stroking the cover with the adoring touch of a lover, tender and gentle. How supple it felt beneath his calloused palms, and strangely warm.

'I've got you,' he breathed, reverently tracing the hardcover edges with his thumbs, his eyes glazed and heavy.

p l e a s e, s e b a s t i a n...

'Please what?' He leaned down as if to whisper in an ear that wasn't there, his breath ghosting the surprisingly pristine pages.

t o u c h m e...

Loneliness had a way of changing people; extroverts became withdrawn, optimists turned cynical. But when that loneliness was the direct result of one's own failings, it withered anything pure that had ever bloomed in a person's psyche, leaving only a wasted garden in its place, a bed of rotting roots.

Once a boy of friendly disposition and bright curiosity, Sebastian's innate optimism had slowly eroded away after every loss that'd darkened his life: his parents, his sister, his uncle, each death a blow to his happiness from which he never recovered, rendering him withdrawn and bitter, a tree lopped well before its time. — But though he might’ve been emotionally damaged beyond repair, but there was certainly nothing wrong with his body.

Sebastian was tall for his age, handsome and broad-shouldered as his father had been, his muscular physique and toned forearms the result of several years playing as the Slytherin Beater. He wasn't ignorant to the way girls looked at him, nor oblivious to the effect he had on them when he flexed his arms or ruffled his hair. And despite his melancholy (or perhaps because of it, as one Slytherin girl had told him), he attracted intimate partners with surprising ease.

When he'd lost all sense of himself under the crushing weight of grief, it was sex that made him feel alive again.

Ever the resourceful Slytherin, he used this inherent charm to his full advantage, setting his sights on only the prettiest girls in his year level, the most unavailable, or the ones too shy to meet his gaze. He revelled in their blushes and giggles when he brushed his hand against theirs, their darkened pupils and parted lips when he finally had them pushed up against a wall or straddling his lap, and soon, Sebastian found himself addicted to the taste of soft lips against his hungry mouth, the flush of goosebumps beneath his demanding touch, slick thighs and flushed skin.

Still, he couldn't say with any measure of truth that he'd felt anything like this from a book before.

Maybe he really had lost his mind.

'Touch you?' He swallowed roughly, fingering the notches of the spine. 'Where?'

s p r e a d m e... t o u c h m e...

With his entire body throbbing with need, Sebastian spread the book open to the middle pages. He ran a slow, measured finger down the length of the inner crease, imagining the soft hollow of a collarbone, the sensitive dip of an inner thigh. But to his immense surprise, his finger did not glide over the smooth paper as he was expecting, but sank in, disappearing into the spine as if he'd breached some concealed opening. Instead of meeting a paper barrier, or even the polished wooden table beneath it, he delved into a strangely wet, yet pleasantly warm depth.

He added another. Sebastian's fingers were thick, but the pages yielded easily to accommodate them, stretching and pulsing around him.

Something inside him roared to life.

'Is this what you want?'

Mingled breath, pretty skin. Snow was falling outside but her body burned against his.

'Yes! Yes, Sebastian, please!'

The resulting moan that fell from the book's lips — pages? — ignited a primal, aching need inside him. Musical and clear, and so deliciously lustful it made his knees tremble, it was the single most beautiful sound Sebastian had ever heard in his life: ethereal and otherworldly, pretty and bright — and yet, somehow, achingly familiar. He slid his fingers deeper, the slip of the unmarred pages like silken bliss against his skin, and when the voice whimpered in approval, he thought of the last girl he'd fucked under the Quidditch stands who'd made very similar noises with his fingers inside her. Sebastian smiled, remembering the way he'd had to hold her up when she came all over his hand, her knees buckling and her mouth agape in a silent scream of bliss.

'Oh, so this what you need, is it?'

Sebastian was grunting now, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he curled his fingers deeper into the pages' soft, wet void.

The empyreal voice only cried out in reply, but the tight, hot opening fluttered around his fingers in that additive way he knew proceeded a mind-shattering orgasm. He smiled again, half-feral with lust as he pawed at his own crotch, roughly stroking the evidence of his depravity that was straining against his breeches.

'I'm going to finger fuck you until you fall to pieces.' He picked up his pace, the veins in his forearm bulging with the exertion of the efforts, his hair falling over his eyes. 'Is that what you want? To be ruined?'

'Sebastian! Sebas— fuck!'

Frantically rocking hips, fingers slippery with desire.

'Do I make you feel good? Do I? — No, look at me when you come!'

Well past the point of no return, Sebastian watched the rhythmic pumping of this fingers with a singular intensity, marveling at the way they slid so easily into the mysterious depths of the book only to come out coated in slick. This was better than any real girl he'd even been with; this was all-encompassing, mind-numbing bliss, each glistening stroke soothing his burdened mind, mending the roots in his ruined garden.

This was magical.

It was some time before a cramp in his hand had Sebastian reluctantly peeling away from the books' lush center— but the pain of their separation was immediate and unbearable. Whimpering, he went immediately for his breeches, his stiff, slippery fingers struggling with his belt and fastenings until, finally, in a half-blind sort of daze, hot and throbbing, he stroked himself with a raw, gutteral cry. The table groaned under his weight as he leaned over it, mimicking the sounds that fell from his ruined throat.

i n e e d y o u...

His hips bucked.

With one knee propped on the table and a pant leg still tangled around one leg, the angle was awkward, uncomfortable, and if he weren't so utterly fucked out of his mind, he might’ve stopped to reconsider, well... everything.

But he couldn't stop. Now now.

Instead, mumbling stupid, unintelligible praises, he managed to angle himself in just the right way to swipe his weeping tip through the deliciously slick cease.

His mind went blank.

There was no warm body to hold onto, no hips to bruise nor neck to sink his teeth into, just an old splintery tabletop and smooth pages — and yet, if he closed his eyes, he could almost envision a trembling, sweat-slicked body beneath him, as warm and needy as any he'd had before.

If somebody were to walk in on him now, hovering half-naked over a book, painfully hard and inarticulate with lust, they'd be hard pressed to make him stop.

At this point, not even a team of Auror's could pry Sebastian cock away from these pages.

They'd have to crucio him to make him stop.

And even then...

Trembling with the effort of holding himself steady, he gingerly probed the spot his fingers had just been enjoying.

He slid in an inch. Then another.

The book shuddered.

His vision blurred.

i n e e d y o u...

'Sebastian, I need you!'

He fell forward, knees buckling, pleading, whimpering — then a voice, maybe his own, maybe the books', let out a garbled, broken cry as he sank into the sweet, tight abyss.

The world narrowed to the euphoric point of connection, and nothing else.

Pleasure, exquisite.

And nothing else.

[part two coming soon]

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow x book

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eggymf-archived · 2 years ago

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forever and always

ft. sebastian sallow with f!reader (one-shot)

themes: angst, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, porn with plot, slow burn, mutual pining, hurt to comfort, aged-up characters (21+), reader is not mc

warning: nsfw, smut, not spoiler-free, loss of virginity, mild depictions of injury, unedited, not proofread

summary: both you and sebastian are aurors who had just completed a mission. however, sebastian was wounded in the process, and the two of you decided to stay in an inn for the night to treat his wounds and get some rest. unfortunately, there’s only one vacant room left with one bed.

word count: 5.2k

a/n: didn’t expect it to turn out pretty long, but i’ll just casually drop this load of filth right here.

masterlist || AO3 cross-post

“What in Merlin’s name were you thinking?!”

Sebastian winced as you cleaned a nasty gash on his chest with a soft cloth soaked in Wiggenweld Potion. In that moment, he wasn’t exactly sure which was worse: the physical stinging pain on his chest, your scalding tone, or the fact that you being angry somehow made you a bit more attractive than usual (not that you weren’t in the first place). You pointed your wand at his wound, muttering an unfamiliar spell: the wound stitched itself back with a translucent, silver thread coming from the tip of your wand. He gave you an appreciative grin while you glowered at him half-heartedly.

“The next time you pull that sort of stunt ever again, I will NOT help you with your wounds, Sebastian!” you huffed angrily, placing the soiled cloth into a bowl filled with water. You headed towards the bathroom to clean up while Sebastian stared at your retreating figure, a fond smile gracing his lips.

It has always been like this eversince the two of you became friends: kind and gentle (Y/N) always worrying about his wellbeing and being a mother hen whenever he got hurt. You’ve been friends with him and Anne eversince early childhood: the three of you were born in Feldcroft and have been living there for as long as you could remember, while Ominis joined your little group during your first year in Hogwarts. All four of you were sorted into Slytherin and were inseparable as a group. Throughout your years as friends, you were aware of Sebastian's penchant for getting himself into trouble and danger, and with how reckless he gets, you made it one of your many missions to study all sorts of healing spells out of concern for the boy. You always looked out for all of your friends, especially Sebastian. It was an oath you had personally took upon yourself.

However, Sebastian's friendship with you wasn’t always smooth.

The end of 4th year was the start of the worst of his Hogwarts years: with Anne being cursed, Sebastian wasn’t the best person to interact with in general. You tried to help Anne of course, conniving with Sebastian by sneaking into the restricted section together with him and retrieving book after book. You had also asked your mother, who was a healer, to help with Anne's case. Unfortunately, you ended up on the receiving end of Sebastian's misplaced anger when you delivered the grave news he wasn’t ready to hear.

“I'm sorry, Sebastian. My mother tried everything. Anne can't be healed.”

“How could you say that, (Y/N)?! It’s either you’re not trying enough, or you don’t care about Anne enough!”

“That’s not--”

“I'd rather be with someone who’ll be more useful in finding a cure. So, if you’d excuse me, I have a book to read.”

He despised himself for saying such things, but his pride was a difficult pill to swallow. He steered clear from you during 5th year, opting to befriend the new 5th year student instead. It was all for Anne - he thought that the mysterious new student would be the key to finding the cure that Anne needs. At least, that’s what he merely tells himself out of his own miserable denial: during his absence from your life, it was rumored that you had began dating Garreth Weasley, so he decided to date the new student out of spite. It hurt him a lot: seeing you give the same warmth towards Garreth. But of course, being the insufferable prick he was at that time, he’d maintain the façade and pride of being in a relationship with the strongest student in their year.

Then everything just spirals out of control eversince he went into Salazar Slytherin's scriptorium. He had already lost you to someone else, and to further add fuel to the fire, he lost himself to his own madness, ended up murdering his uncle in the heat of the moment, his twin sister refuses to talk to him, his brother-like friendship with Ominis became strained, and his “significant other” breaks up with him after the school year when they no longer needed him.

He deserved it all - he was stubborn, manipulative, and cruel. He couldn’t argue with that fact, yet you still took him in without any hesitation despite everything he had done.

It was during the first summer that he didn’t have Anne nor his uncle around - the time when he was graced with a slight glimmer of hope in making things right. Ominis was with him in their cottage in Feldcroft as usual, casually reading a book with his wand while lounging on one of the vacant beds. Sebastian was about to prepare their dinner when someone knocked on the door. Upon opening it, Sebastian was shocked to see you standing before him, holding a small pot of warm food.

“... Thought the two of you might be hungry, so I made extra.”

Sebastian teared up.

“(Y/N), I-”

You merely shook your head.

“Eat. We can talk all about it tomorrow,” you said, handing over the pot to Sebastian. “Also, I’m sorry about what happened.”

Sebastian watched you as you headed back to your home. He glanced at the pot he was holding, his heart twisting with both guilt and a slight relief. You had extended an olive branch towards him even if he was supposed to be the one who had to do it, and he felt ashamed yet thankful at the same time. Needless to say, Ominis was rather confused with Sebastian’s behavior, who was sniffling while eating their dinner that evening.

The brunette male chuckled to himself at the fond memory, but was soon snapped out of his reverie when he heard footsteps towards him. You grabbed a blanket and one of the pillows, heading over to the furniture-less spot in the room.

“You’re sleeping on the floor?” Sebastian bemusedly asked.

“Why yes, I am. You need the bed more than I do. You’re hurt.”

“I was hurt, (Y/N), but I’m fine now thanks to you. We’ve always shared beds when we had sleepovers, so what’s the fuss now?”

“We were children back then, Sebastian. I'm actually a grown woman now, in case you haven’t noticed?”

“Well then, I'll sleep on the floor instead. Can’t have a grown woman sleeping on the floor now, can I?”

You sighed in exasperation, slightly throwing your hands up in disbelief as Sebastian stood up, striding towards you.

“It’s either I sleep on the floor, or you sleep on the bed with me,” he interrupted before you could even protest against him. You swore you saw his lip twitch slightly into a teasing smirk, causing you to shoot him an irritated glare.

“OW!”

Sebastian rubbed the spot on his arm you just violently pinched, a grin still gracing his face triumphantly regardless of the pain as you sat on the other side of the bed. You were blushing furiously, grumbling about how stupidly inconvenient it was that the current room they were staying in for the night was the only vacant room left in this inn while Sebastian plopped right onto his side of the king-sized bed.

The night was still young, but the both of you were too exhausted with your recently finished mission of retrieving several smuggled dark artifacts from dark wizards. Sebastian was lying face up, staring at the decrepit ceiling of the room while you were laying on your side with your back facing him, quickly falling into a deep slumber due to fatigue. He turned towards you, staring at your back as his mind wandered back to what had occurred earlier.

You almost got hit by a slicing spell - the spell that Sebastian had voluntarily shielded you from at the very last minute. And there you were, chiding him about almost getting killed for saving you.

Sebastian's fist clenched in silent worry as his eyes remained glued to your sleeping form. The thought of you being fatally injured or worse was undoubtedly his worst fear in this line of work - the both of you being Aurors and as a duo in assigned missions certainly had its perks, but a part of him couldn’t bear to stomach that you, his beloved (Y/N), always had death looming over you. You never were the combative type - you were a healer, not a soldier, yet regardless of that, you’d still accompany him to the ends of the earth to at least make sure he’s alive. It brought a twinge of pain within his chest the more he thought about all that you’ve done, and he hopes that he’d be blessed enough to repay you for your never-ending grace towards him.

Thankfully, your friendship with Sebastian had been mended for the most part these past few years. The bond was fixed somehow, yes - but it was never fully intact. Despite the both of you constantly being in each other’s company because of work, it’s as if you’re always separated from him by some sort of distance he couldn’t quite explain. Even within this small room, Sebastian feels a wash of longing despite you just being an arm’s length away from him. Is it because of the guilt of him pushing you away in the past; the fear of hurting you once again; or the fact that the both of you are always mere inches away from death so there’s no guarantee if one of you would be even alive the next day?

Several soft sniffles could be heard from you as you shifted around, turning to face him.

“(Y/N)...?”

No response. Sebastian scooted slightly closer, finding a glistening wet trail at your nose bridge. Hesitancy took a hold on him - you were crying in your sleep. He hated seeing that more than anything, and that hate was further amplified by the fact that he didn’t know how to even help you with it without transgressing the invisible emotional boundaries between you and him. He placed his hand on your arm, causing you to stir from your slumber, your eyelids fluttering open.

“Seb...?”

His breath hitched at the old childhood nickname: you hadn’t called him that eversince he pushed you away. Gone were his reservations of keeping a respectable emotional distance from you - not when you said his name in such a soft, vulnerable tone after so long. Warmth enveloped you, snapping you out of your sleepiness. Sebastian had wrapped an arm over you, his palm resting at the back of your head as he pushed you closer towards him. You were about to protest against his actions and push him away, until he murmured his long-repressed wishes in a broken, pleading manner.

“Please just- Let’s stay like this. Even for a while. Merlin, I missed you so much, (Y/N). Please...”

You couldn’t say no to that. Hell, you could never say no to him.

You succumb to the comfort and safety given by the man you’ve always loved eversince the both of you were children, reciprocating the hug by wrapping an arm around his waist while burying your face into his chest. You recalled the innocent sleepovers that you, Sebastian, Anne, and Ominis usually had back in the Sallow’s cottage - they were truly gems of memories that you held dear in your heart: the times when your circle was still intact, carefree, and blissful. Sebastian would often hug you like this especially when you had nightmares, and his warmth often lulled you into the best, uninterrupted slumbers. You could’ve cried in relief being in his arms once again, but you decided against it.

He didn’t need any more sources of problems: not when he’s still in a turmoil of guilt, trauma, and the incapability of forgiving himself for what he did as a naïve teenage boy. You would’ve felt horrible if you were to sandwich your pent-up romantic feelings for him into the fray. Sometimes you wished you could rid him from all of this pain deep down, but alas, your healing prowess is only applicable to physical wounds, not mental and emotional ones.

This moment, however, albeit it being a moment of vulnerability with the both of you just lying in each other’s arms, it was truly a test of both of your mental and emotional fortitude. Both of your respective scents engulfed each other’s senses: dizzyingly pleasant, familiar, and comforting, driving you both closer and closer to the edge of self-control. The questions that raced within Sebastian's mind earlier were now getting less and less hazy as he looked at your once tear-stricken face, cupping it while his thumb gave featherlike caresses on your cheek.

Yes, he felt guilty for pushing you away in the past. Yes, he feared breaking your heart once again. Yes, he feared your possible untimely death that could happen anytime. But that’s not the primary source of his painful longing this entire time.

It was because he loves you from the start: heads over heels in love to the point he’d unconsciously steer you away from anything that would be cruel enough to steal the light that gave you so much life. He wanted to protect you from everything that would reduce you into ruins - most especially himself. He loves you to the point where it hurts.

But with you staring at his eyes with the same sense of brokenness and unspoken yearnings, the bubbling desire he had feared and suppressed had finally broken through the walls of his self-control.

He captured your lips with his, inhibitions evidently thrown out of the window as you returned the kiss with equal fervor. Sebastian felt his mind blank out as the kiss became more and more frantic, desperately pulling you in closer to feel you against his body. You gasped for air as the both of you pulled away, gazing at each other’s blown-out eyes. Sebastian trailed his thumb on your lips, admiring your messily breathless and dazed form - even in such an unkempt state, you were still so fucking beautiful.

“This is your last chance to stop me, (Y/N),” Sebastian murmured with a hint of seriousness in his tone. “I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself if we continue.”

You leaned towards him, giving him a peck of reassurance on his red, flushed lips.

“Then don’t,” you breathed out.

Sebastian felt his last remaining trace of self-doubt disintegrate as soon as you whispered those saccharine words with so much pent-up desire. He smiled, gently locking his lips upon yours once more, relishing in your addicting taste. Having you in his arms like this felt so right - you were so utterly pliant, obedient, and needy for him. His hand reached the back of your head, yanking your hair to expose your dainty neck, peppering kisses along your jugular. Your felt yourself shudder, closing your eyes as you indulged in Sebastian's ministrations.

You yelped as Sebastian climbed on top of you, not breaking the onslaught of his desperate, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your poor neck. He wedged his knee in between your legs, prying them apart. A mewl tore out of your mouth as he nipped on your neck, suckling on the spot and leaving a blooming, purplish red mark on your once unblemished skin. Sebastian growled as he began unbuttoning your blouse while you sat up to meet his lips in yet another fiery kiss, ridding him of his top as well with shaky, eager hands.

Sebastian yanked the undone clothing off your frame, baring you topless before his hungry gaze. He attached his mouth on your chest right below your clavicle while you straddled him, his arm wrapping around your waist in response to keep you firmly in place. Voluntarily, you maneuvered your hips in a slow, grinding manner on the painfully obvious tent on his pants, earning a pleasured hiss from the brunette as your lips descended upon his, tongues melding with each other in an open-mouthed kiss.

“F-Fuck (Y/N)...!” he panted in between exchanges of depraved kisses, gripping your waist as you pushed yourself down harder on him, controlling the movement of your hips to a faster pace. You let out a shaky groan, feeling the agonizing texture of your growingly wet undergarments sticking on your sensitive core. The aching between your legs grew hot and unbearable, and this was barely even the start of the sheer debauchery the both of you were going to partake in for the night.

Sebastian left a trail of kisses downwards from your lips all the way to your chest while removing your bra in the process. Your chest heaved in pleasure as he took one of your nipples to his mouth, swirling his tongue on the sensitive nub while his other free hand pinched and twisted the other. A cry of pleasure erupted from your bitten-red lips as he gently gave the nub a gentle bite and soothing the pain off by smoothing his tongue and giving it a teasing suck. Sebastian smirked as you let out another loud moan while he gave your other nipple the similar brutal yet pleasurable treatment. At this point, he felt his pants getting soaked from the outside, causing his still concealed member to twitch in anticipation as he felt beads of precum leaking from his tip. Despite the layers of clothing still separating your core from his member, he still felt how deliciously wet you are for him, and he wondered how soaked you truly are beneath all that remaining clothing left. The thought alone made him salivate.

He liked this. He liked having this particular sort of power over you - you had no choice but to just keep taking all the pleasure he’s inflicting upon your sensitively submissive body. A sense of impatience soon took a hold of him, causing him to throw you on the bed, frantically unbuttoning your pants and pulling the garment off your body harshly. Your face flushed in shame at the sudden exposure, instinctively shutting your legs close. A glint of possessiveness was evident in Sebastian's eyes as he pried your legs apart, staring at your translucent, soaked-through undergarments.

Your heart was thrumming frenziedly in your chest both out of embarrassment and want, covering your poor blushing face as Sebastian peeled the last remaining article of clothing away from your body. He firmly kept your legs apart as he brought his face closer to your wet aching core, watching it clench around nothingness. Sebastian's brain was completely fried, taking in both the heady scent and lewd sight of your most delicate spot.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet.” he rasped, spreading the lips of your pussy before licking a long, wet stripe along your slit. Your back arched, your mouth hanging ajar in a silent moan as heightened pleasures consumed your being for the very first time.

“So fucking sexy.”

Lick.

“So fucking good for me.”

Sebastian kept murmuring praises in between licks, the sinful sounds of slurping, mewls, and groans filling the room as he licked up your honeypot like a starved man. Your legs trembled as he continued his relentless actions, alternating from licking and prodding at your weeping hole using solely his tongue. You felt a single digit rub against your slit, coating itself with your essence before slipping inside your cavern.

However, you let out a hiss of pain, causing Sebastian to abruptly stop.

“Are you alright?” he asked. The question itself made you blush.

“I don’t really know how to say this but...”

“But...?”

“... It’s my first time, so...” you meekly said, avoiding eye contact from the half-naked male in front of you. Sebastian's eyes widened in realization.

Oh. You’re a virgin.

That fact alone caused a switch to flip within the male as his eyes darkened with carnal desire.

Animalistic, feral thoughts consumed Sebastian as he spat on your hole aggressively, the lewd action causing you to whimper in delight. He slowly reinserted his finger inside your tight hole, his hot breath fanning over your clitoris as he partook an experimental lick on the sensitive bud. You writhed instinctively, a pleasantly fiery and toe-curling sensation coursing through your veins as you sobbed in pleasure. The mild pain was slowly subsiding as your body responded to the intensity of his foreplay. You were absolutely dripping, and the sheets you laid on now had a wet patch of your juices. One of your hands attempted to grip Sebastian's hair to pry him off your delicate spots, but he had caught your wrist before you could do so, pinning it down on the bed harshly as he continued the deliciously brutal abuse of your pussy and clitoris using his fingers and tongue. He inserted another finger, groaning at how tight your walls felt around his digits.

Oh, to have his cock inside you - the thought alone made Sebastian rut his hips while he relentlessly flicked his tongue against your sensitive pearl.

Your throat felt dry as you moaned uncontrollably, tears prickling your eyes as your pleasure-driven sobs and cries egged Sebastian to his hasten his pacing, causing your insides to twitch in profane delight. He curled his fingers upwards and suckle on the ball of nerve, occasionally swirling his tongue around it. Your legs began to shudder violently at the frenzy of pleasure coursing through your stimulated body, your toes curling as you cried pathetically, begging Sebastian to slow down his ministrations - a request which fell into deaf ears.

And just like that, you had your very first orgasm.

Tremors coursed throughout your body as you came down from your high as Sebastian slowly retracted his fingers from your pussy, staring into your eyes as he licked the soaked digits - a sight that made your already abused pussy clench wantonly. He got off the bed, his hands reaching for the waistband of his pants as he unbuttoned it, pulling the article of clothing off along with his underwear. Your eyes remained fixed on his as he climbs back on top of you, resting your eagle-spread thighs on his as he prodded the blunt head of his cock on your virgin hole. You gasped at the sensation as he teasingly rubbed the tip along your slit, juices trickling down from your hole. Curiously, you looked down at his appendage with bleary, pleasure-filled eyes.

Oh Merlin. He's fucking girthy.

You swore you almost drooled at the sight despite the worry at the back of your mind if his cock would even fit in your tight virgin hole. Sebastian leaned in for an oddly gentle kiss despite his prior eagerness and vigor. He languidly licks and suckles on your tongue, grinding his cock on your bare pussy as he groped one of your breasts and trailed his other hand on your thigh. You felt so fucking sensitive under him, your body twitching in delight as you received his raw, carnal adoration.

Sebastian, however, was having second thoughts deep down hence the sudden gentleness. He was sure his cock was going to fucking break you with how insanely tight you are, and he didn’t want both of your first times to just be about his own pleasure alone. With how utterly feral he was in the moment, he doesn’t trust himself enough to not go ballistic the moment his cock is completely sheathed within your warmth. Prying his lips away from yours, he nuzzled the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

“Get on top of me,” he whispered, giving a brief peck on the damp, sweaty skin of your neck. Sebastian sat beside you, his back leaning against the headboard of the bed, snaking an arm around your waist as you straddled him. The both of you gazed at each other, eyes filled with both lust and love, leaning in for another breathy exchange of kisses.

“I love you, (Y/N). I love you so fucking much.”

Sebastian’s frantic, whispered confession against your lips made your heart soar as you sighed against his plump lips, cupping his cheek as he stared into your (e/c) eyes.

“I love you too, Seb. I’m all yours. Only yours.”

Sebastian hummed in response as he nuzzled your neck. He reached for his thick, leaking appendage as you raised your hips, placing your hands on his broad shoulders to stabilize yourself. He spat on his hand and coated his member with his saliva before rubbing the glistening red tip along your slit to further lubricate it as much as he could. He looked up at you, while you meekly nodded in approval. He positioned the head towards your hole while you lowered yourself slowly, engulfing him within your delicate, wet flower.

You gasped in both pain and pleasure as his cock split you open, burying itself inside your pussy inch by inch while Sebastian’s breath quickened, his hands gripping your hips almost painfully as his self-control threatened to slip away with how heavenly your walls felt. His eyebrows furrowed in both concentration and intense pleasure - it took all of his remaining willpower to not thrust himself up into your warm, inviting hole as he peppered your exposed skin with kisses, mapping his hands across every inch of your exposed skin as he steadied his breathing. You let out a cry of pleasure the moment you buried his cock all the way to the hilt, his smooth tip kissing your cervix.

You gave an experimental roll with your hips, causing a whimper to erupt from your lips while Sebastian’s breath hitched in response, bringing his hands to grip the curves of your ass. He guided your hips in a slow, grinding motion, allowing you to get accustomed to his size. The initial burning sensation of the intrusion was melting away as your body succumbed into the pleasure, your juices flowing from your hole the more stimulation you received. You reached for your clitoris, gently rubbing it as you threw your head back, gasping at the amplified sensations that made your thighs quiver in delight.

Sebastian bit his lip at the sight of you pleasuring yourself while he guided your hips, the shameless image burned in his memory for good. You started bouncing up and down his cock - a telltale sign that the pain had already dissipated as you began to lose yourself into lustful desire. Instinctively, he bucked his hips up, earning an eager whine followed by a string of pleasure-drunk babbles from your lips as you rubbed your clit harder.

“Oh f-fuck! You feel so good. Please, please- Just like that...!”

Despite your wanton pleas, Sebastian lifted you off his lap, causing you to whine at the absence of his cock inside you. You were suddenly pushed down the mattress rather harshly, a gasp escaping from your lips as Sebastian grabbed one of your ankles, throwing your leg above his shoulder while his other hand had two of your wrists pinned right above your head. He slammed his cock back inside your pussy, the both of you groaning in unison at the delicious friction.

Passionate moans spilled from your lips as Sebastian rammed his hips against yours, setting a viciously mind-melting pace. The squelching sounds of your bodily fluids alongside the repetitive slapping of wet skin caused your head to spin in delight, your mind in a mania of sinful indulgence. You were utterly helpless and at his mercy, and you fucking loved it. Sebastian's eyes drank the sight before him: your naked body covered with a sheen of sweat, skin littered with multiple hickeys, bitten-red lips, a fucked-out expression, and your legs spread out nice and wide just for him. Only him.

Sebastian freed your wrists, leaning back as his fingers grazed against your swollen-red pearl, rubbing it in circles. A high-pitched whine bubbled from your lips as your hands gripped the sheets, your knuckles turning white. As soon as he started the onslaught of his rough thrusts once again, your mind blanked out as his cock head brushed against a certain, spongy spot within your pussy.

“Fuck! R-right there!” you cried out, your chest heaving in desperation as you clawed at his arm. Your thighs began to quiver once again, causing Sebastian to smirk knowingly as your eyes rolled back in sheer unadulterated bliss.

“Please, please- oh fuck, Sebastian!” you babbled, drool trickling down your chin mindlessly as your remaining bits of sanity began to slip away. Sebastian chuckled darkly at your depravity, leaning forward to brutally assault your poor neck with marks once again.

“Go on, pretty girl. Cum for me,” he groaned against your ear, causing a high-pitched moan to suddenly erupt from your throat. Your walls tightened around his member as he growled, rubbing your clit as you rode your high. Globs of your essence spilled from your hole, coating Sebastian’s cock with a translucent, milky substance.

Despite just having your release, Sebastian was still slamming his cock in and out of your hole, chasing his high while continuing with the abuse of your sensitive spots. Your eyes rolled back as one of his hands wrapped around your neck in a gentle grip, broken whimpers escaping your lips. Sebastian groaned as you gasped for air while tears of pleasure ran down your flushed cheeks - the debauched image of you so utterly broken and cock-drunk solely for him caused his member to twitch inside you as he quickened his pace, tipping him closer and closer to the edge.

“F-fuck, I’m close! Where do you want it?” he hissed through gritted teeth. You pulled him closer, resting your forehead against his as you locked your legs around his waist. He groaned, gazing straight into your eyes as he approached his climax, burying his cock all the way inside your pussy.

Sebastian let out a long, guttural moan, his eyes never leaving yours as his shaft spurted his seed deep inside you. Your walls clenched and twitched as Sebastian slowed his pace, milking any remaining globs of his cum from his cock. The both of you were panting, foreheads pressed together and staring each other with fucked-out yet loving expressions.

Sebastian reluctantly pulled his now softening member out of your hole, causing you to mewl in response. He laid down beside you, the both of you staring at the ceiling, panting in exhaustion. You felt his hot cum trickle down from your wrecked hole, causing you to blush in realization at what had transpired between you both.

Shyly, you glanced at Sebastian, who was still panting slightly, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. He got up, giving you a peck on the forehead, before heading towards the bathroom while you remain in your spot. Sebastian returned from the bathroom with a wet towel at hand, voluntarily wiping any filth away from your prior activities with him while looking at each other with adoration. You intended to at least fix the sheets for the both of you. However, a painful sensation coursed through your inner thighs as you tried to move.

“...Uh, Seb? Could you please pass me my wand?” you asked, feeling guilty that you couldn’t be much of service to him in this little aftercare session. Sebastian quirked an eyebrow - your wand was right at the bedside table not far from you. You felt your face burn as he gives you a questioning look, silently demanding for an explanation for your peculiar request.

“... I can’t feel my legs.”

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader smut #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x f!reader #hogwarts legacy one shot #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy

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el-255 · 6 months ago

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I find it so poignant in Epic the idea that all of Odysseus’s actions of ‘kindness’ so to speak always come back to bite him in the end (going to the cave to try and show open arms in trusting the lotus eaters, offering the wine to Polyphemus, sparing Polyphemus, his apology to Poseidon) except for his plea to Circe after denying her advances.

And you know why I think that is? Because it’s the only open arms approach that is completely sincere in nature.

Let me explain a little further, everything I’ve listed up to that point has been deception in some sort of way, they only went to the cave on the advice of the lotus eaters because they were desperate. I have no doubt that if given any other choice, Odysseus wouldn’t have gone. He only offered the wine to Polyphemus in an attempt to bargain for his and his crew’s lives and he ends up spiking it with lotus anyways so even if Polyphemus had let them go, he still would’ve ended up being betrayed in some sense. Him sparing Polyphemus is an act of spite against Athena and Polyphemus because he believes himself to be above any sort of repercussions and wants to taunt him for killing his friends. And finally, his apology to Poseidon is insincere at best because at no point does he ever utter the words “I’m sorry”. Not that Poseidon would’ve let him go anyways because I firmly believe at that point he’d already made up his mind to kill Odysseus and his crew but it’s the thought that counts and Odysseus clearly wasn’t sorry in the slightest, only sorry it came back to bite him.

Then we move to Circe and that’s when Odysseus’s luck changes when, after telling her that he will not cheat on his wife, she shows him mercy and helps him out. Because Odysseus was sincere in his affections for his wife and Circe, a woman who has been burned and abused by men in the past, has watched her nymphs suffer at the hands of men, and as a woman who deems all men as pigs because she believes they do not care for women at all, respects him for that. It humanises him.

It gives Circe some sort of hope that things could be better. Her line “maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more” may be immediately followed up with her declaring that instead one day it could need her more and things will get worse, but it gives Circe hope that she never had before. Circe already held the views of her final line, it’s nothing new for her to be untrustworthy of men at best, but for a moment, she wants to believe in a world where men are good and her nymphs would be safe even without her protection. A world where she would be safe.

All because Odysseus was finally being sincere to someone and genuinely poured his heart out which worked! Circe let his men go and helped them get to the underworld which she didn’t have to do at all, she could’ve sent them on their merry way and washed her hands of the whole incident but she didn’t. She wanted to believe in the love between Odysseus and Penelope and did everything in her power to make their reunion possible.

This makes his turn to becoming a monster in the underworld saga all the more upsetting because one good outcome to his kindness does not change others that got his friends killed so he completely gives up on it and embraces the role of being a monster who doesn’t care for anything but getting home, no matter the cost.

Even by the point of his plea for mercy from Circe, a part of Odysseus has already given up on everything Polites tried to in-still in him, but loves his wife so much that he’d never even fathom betraying her despite the fact that he believes cheating on her with Circe (unaware that her seduction is only a farce to kill him) will make her release his men and she’d likely never know that Odysseus had betrayed her. He still can’t do it, it’s Odysseus’s last ditch attempt to try and resolve things peacefully and he’s only doing it for the love of his wife.

It’s tragic irony that the very thing he believes in so sincerely, humanises him so much, and garners him the most help and sympathy is what leads to his downfall to a monster, his love for his wife and his son.

#epic the musical #epic: the musical #jorge rivera herrans #epic the troy saga #epic the cyclops saga #epic the ocean saga #epic the circe saga #epic the underworld saga #this probably makes no sense #but i’m doing it anyway #if anyone understands my rambling pls let me know my efforts to get my point across weren’t in vain 🙏#basically rehashing what others have said before but infinitely more yapping #horrific overuse of the word because #please don’t judge me it’s like 1am

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bietrofastimoff23 · 4 months ago

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Here's the thing that really gets me. Objectively speaking, Aegon in the original story is not a good person stretch of the imagination. He's unfaithful to his wife, he's a lazy drunk, he's spiteful to his nephews, and he becomes a crueler person as the civil war spirals out of control. And he is kind of a fucking loser if we're being totally honest. He's clearly out of his depth when it comes to military planning, and happily goes along with ideas by Criston Cole that he perceives to be "manly" ways of fighting a war. With even his victories being pyrrhic ones that see him receive crippling injuries.

So like...this is not a character who you should be able to do dirty, right? But somehow they keep finding a way! The writers are so insecure about their affection for Rhaenyra that they go out of their way to invent new scenes and flaws to add extra humiliation to a character that already got pretty brutally humiliated in the original story. Taking the one account for Mushroom that we're pretty much told outright was likely bullshit (since he literally wasn't even in King's Landing), and somehow making it even worse. And making up that nonsensical dragon pit scene for his coronation just to have Rhaenyra's side make him look impotent. People try to defend these changes with the excuse that the historical records might have missed subtle details, and I'm just like fuck right off with that bullshit. People would remember a fucking dragon bursting out of the ground and killing a hundred civilians (something that gets completely glossed over, while the Ratcatcher mass execution is dwelled upon as an atrocity).

I thought at first that maybe they were slowly improving things a bit with his depiction in Episode 2. Because bless the actor, he's fucking trying with what he's got to work with. He nailed the raw emotions of a parent that's just had their child get brutally murdered. But no, they're regressing yet again. And rewriting Criston's plan just to make Aegon look like a moron who derails everything for his own side. A rewrite that when you think about it for literally 5 seconds actually makes Criston and Aemond look like idiots. A 2v1 ambush plan is objectively a smarter and safer strategy for taking out Meleys than a 1v1 ambush plan.

Sorry to keep you waiting. I agree with everything!

The writers' favoritism is so obvious in the parallels between Rhaenyra and Aegon, where they can both do stupid things, but in Rhaenyra's case it is presented as heroism and sacrifice, and in Aegon's case he is exposed as a worthless idiot. Rhaenyra can order the torture of her mutilated brother and the murder of an innocent servant in order to legally have fuck with her uncle, and it will never be mentioned again. but when Aegon hangs the rat catchers because they can't identify his son's killer, they talk about it in a negative way in every episode and even include it in the opening.

In fact, Aegon didn't even mess up the plan in RR. Aemond could easily have joined him and their victory would have been quick, but the writers decided to spoil that for the sake of unnecessary drama.

They could easily make Aegon the bad guy of this story without trying to make him look pathetic in every damn scene. We don't have a single triumphant moment for Aegon. Even his coronation was not only depicted as gloomy and dark, but it was also spoiled for the sake of Rhaenys' girlboss moment (a mass murder that the fandom prefers to ignore). No one respects Aegon, does not appreciate him, everyone tries to manipulate him, his own council does not tell him about the plans, his mother does not care about him, his brother betrays him. And the few good things he had that made him happy (Jaehaerys, Sunfyre), he loses on the same day when hotd bothers to show them as an important part of Aegon's life.

They just can't let Aegon have anything good, because even when his character is at the very bottom, he remains one of the most interesting.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #anti hotd #my post #ask me

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heroes-among-us-all · 2 years ago

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Maybe shigaraki having a crush on a league member and he gets her to sit in his lap while he plays video games?

Cute. You were way too goddamn cute. As much as Shigaraki hated to admit it, he'd turned into a lovestruck fool from the moment he laid eyes on you.

When Dabi had first suggested inviting another member into the League, he'd had his doubts. Shigaraki had since grown comfortable with the allies he'd accrued. He didn't want to expand his circle too much. He had a hard enough time trusting people as it was.

Needless to say, when you turned up to the hideout with that adorable smile of yours, he found it difficult to refuse. Obviously, he didn't trust you right from the start - you had to earn his trust, the way everyone else had. But slowly and surely, you made it clear that you were faithful to the League and proved time and time again that your ambitions and desires aligned with his.

Now that it had gotten to this point, Shigaraki could safely say that he had a massive crush on you.

And quite frankly, he hated it. It was an unfamiliar feeling, the likes of which made his stomach clench up uncomfortably. He was used to being in a perpetually shitty mood, but this was different somehow. Even though his chest got all tight when he stared at you for too long, the sensation wasn't wholly unpleasant.

As a result of being in constant turmoil and struggling to make sense of his own warped feelings, he ended up lashing out at you unintentionally.

"Get out of my way," he would snap on one occasion.

"Why do you keep staring at me? If you've got something to say, just say it," he might also sneer.

Put simply, he found it difficult to interact with you, because you brought out weakness in him. You made him feel shaky and uncertain. Timid and withdrawn.

But in spite of all that, you weren't deterred. You were always constantly smiling during every one of your interactions. If his words hurt you, then you certainly didn't let it show. You kept on treating him with kindness and consideration, which was quite frankly more than he deserved.

Shigaraki wanted to act on his feelings, but given that he had no experience in this department, he didn't know how.

So, he decided to stick with what he was comfortable with and use it to break the ice.

"Come in here," Shigaraki demanded. He was your boss, so technically speaking, you had to listen to most of what he said.

You were completely unfazed to have been summoned to his room. As always, you were smiling. Fucking hell, how was it possible for someone to be that cute?

"I'm here," you beamed. "What's up?"

Shigaraki pointed to the spot beside him. "Sit down. Stay here while I play my game."

"Oh. Is that all?"

"Yes," he frowned. "Is there a problem?"

"Not at all!" you chirped, happily bounding over to his side. Just as he'd insisted, you plopped down right beside him, getting awfully close. Shigaraki couldn't deny the fact that his heart was going crazy right now.

He gripped his controller a bit tighter. "Okay. Just stay there. Watch me beat this level."

His red eyes flickered towards the screen of his TV instead of staring at you. It was better this way. It was better for him to have something to focus on while the two of you interacted, otherwise he would risk making a fool out of himself.

Unfortunately, even his endless video game prowess couldn't quite compensate for how distracting you were. You were sitting so close that your shoulders kept brushing up against his, and apart from the low volume of the TV, the room was almost deathly quiet, allowing him to hear every soft exhale you let out.

Even worse, he started feeling stupidly self-conscious for some reason. He suddenly worried that you might not think he was good enough at the game and judge him for it. These self-deprecating thoughts ate away at him, and he could feel himself playing worse and worse as the minutes dragged on.

Shigaraki swallowed, fingers trembling against the controller. "I can't focus," he admitted. "I don't usually play this bad."

"What are you talking about?" you laughed. "You're a million times better than I could ever hope to be. It would have taken me more than a week to clear that last boss fight."

There it was again. You were comforting him, the way you always did. Normally, he hated feeling like he was being offered superficial pity. After all, people pretending to give a shit was the whole reason this hero society was a sham. But from you, strangely enough, it always felt genuine. He never had to doubt your intentions or read into things too much.

You actually cared about him. That thought alone was enough to overwhelm him with emotion.

Feeling emboldened by your encouraging words, Shigaraki mustered up the nerve to utter his next sentence.

"I think I'd play better if you were sitting on my lap," he mumbled.

Shit. Why'd I go and say that? She'll definitely think I'm creeping on her now.

But it seemed that you just kept on surprising him. That smile of yours that he'd since come to love didn't falter in the slightest. If anything, it just grew even wider.

"Sure thing," you grinned, and without wasting a beat, seated yourself right in his lap.

Now Shigaraki was panicking for a different reason altogether. He hadn't really thought things through this far. You were actually sitting on his lap. He could feel the curve of your ass pressing flush against his lower half, and already, his face was a mess of crimson hues.

You turned towards him. He noticed that your grin had become a bit more coy. "What's wrong?" you teased. "Isn't this what you asked for? Come on. I want to see you play some more."

"Shut up," Shigaraki grimaced, having to bite back the strangled gasp that threatened to leave his lips. He decided to rise to your challenge and keep on playing, not that it even mattered anymore. He'd already won big-time by getting to be this close to you.

Unsurprisingly, his gaming performance deteriorated even further from that point onwards. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, letting out giggles and wiggling your butt under the pretense of 'trying to get more comfortable'. Shigaraki was trying his damn best to keep his excitement from showing, but he imagined he was probably failing terribly.

"Hey, Tomura," you said suddenly. You placed a hand on top of his and slowly moved the controller out of the way. Your eyes sparkled with mischief. "Is playing video games really all you wanted to do? Before you answer, you should know that I can feel how hard you are."

Shigaraki's blush deepened. Right. You were many things, but an idiot wasn't one of them. Not that he'd really been subtle in the first place.

"I guess not," he admitted, awkwardly avoiding your gaze. "So, then... what else would we do?"

"We could make out," you grinned. Your face moved closer to his, and he had to remind himself not to get too excited and accidentally grab hold of you with all five of his fingers.

"I've never done anything like that before," he said, feeling a touch ashamed by the admission.

But he should have known better. He should have known you wouldn't care, not when you'd treated him more warmly than anyone else in his life.

"It's okay," you hummed, shifting your position on his lip so that you were now fully facing him. You let your arms dangle over his shoulders. "I'll teach you," was the last thing you said, pressing your lips against his.

#shigaraki tomura #bnha #bnha shigaraki #bnha imagines #fluff #bnha x reader #my hero academia #mha imagines #boku no hero academia #bnha villains #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #my hero academia imagines

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uthseikoashx-goingmyway · 4 months ago

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throwing away some thoughts here. it has already been said, but i'd like to recap some things for myself, i have to get all of it out of my system, lmao

EVEN if i set aside my desire for DM to happen a first time in the 1970s/80s (and come back in the 2020s), and examine the situation with some kind of honesty, there ARE leads and clues. or rather, unexplained elements that aren't actually troublesome if unexploited, but that would get depth if they were refered to in a later season.

specifically talking about three things:

the infamous Alice recalling and "she didn't trust you," etc, passage:

we can explain, i suppose, Armand's comment by saying he pulled this info out of Daniel's brain — which would mean it's not an info but one of Daniel's interpretation, by the way. taken from a DM perspective: either it's fuel for the A=A theory, or it implies that Armand was around when it happened.

Daniel foggy memories during the 1970s:

again, it could be explained by Daniel's drug use at the time, as he himself assumes. now, that would be irresponsable of us to not, as least, question it, considering Armand's ability to lock away someone's memories; worse, not only his ability, but the fact that he did this not only to Daniel — a human — but also to Louis, his husband. (to be perfectly sincere, i was (before season 2), and still am, a strong believer of what's sometimes nicknamed here the "eternal-sunshine theory"; it influences my outlook on this, it's so cool)

Armand turning Daniel despite his virulent unwilingness to ever make a fledgling — and we know nothing about how it happened:

still shocked about that, if i'm honest! i find it difficult to believe Armand would turn Daniel out of spite. when Louis read his notes on the script, he didn't seem angry at Daniel but panicking about Louis leaving him: it was a very Loumand moment (the last of the season!); i didn't doubt Armand would not kill Daniel, precisely because Louis told him not to. one might think he would curse Daniel then, a gift worse than death, out of spite and to punish both Daniel and Louis. but Armand repeating over and over how he never made any fledgling and how he never could, never would... a context, a story between them might be a great explanation for a later season. the mystery is still complete; maybe they — Armand and Daniel — had a very long conversation, or they actually had not and because of some element in Armand's past, he actually snapped; or they fought, Armand hurt Daniel, and to save him, Armand turned him... it definitely is the strangest plot point about them and no doubt we'll get answers in a later season; besides, i think several things may be true at same the time — Armand hurting Daniel and DM in the past, etc, etc.

and not to mention some elements like "you're going to teach me how to be fascinating" (2x05), what seems to be Daniel's desire or subdued lust (especially in season 1 with the godsent "what does he taste like?" / sucking on the diner table scene), their dynamics or some of Armand's looks that can only be suspicious... all of this is not enough, in my opinion, to be sure that DM happened in the 1970s in the series canon; but the 3 points developed here sure would make more sense in a past-DM context (methinks)

#i'm rambling #... again #guess what #i finally watched the end of the season #late because of emmanuel macron national piece of shit #anyway #daniel molloy #devil's minion #armand #armand iwtv #the vampire armand #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv #iwtv season 2 #iwtv s2 #iwtv spoilers

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chaedomi · 1 year ago

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Hellooo hope you are doing well, I am not quite sure if you are taking requests but if you are could you please write yandere Satan or Lucifer from obey me •-•.

𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ om

gn!reader x lucifer, satan (yandere / separate), implied violence, minor spoilers (?), unhealthy relationships. ꨄ — masterlist

QUITE THE interesting individual you were… There was kindness in you, to whoever treated you well and deserved it. Then there was a mean streak to you, quickly shutting up the offender with your bluntness and sharp tongue. There were times you were great company, people choosing to seek you out during their moments of loneliness. And of course, you had your annoying moments where people are filled with the urge to chuck you out the nearest window. Sometimes you are like a ray of sunshine and open to everyone, and sometimes you were… emotionally constipated. There’s no doubt you would gain attention, some more than others.

LUCIFER

Really? Really? Is this what it’s going to be like now? Okay. It could be ANYONE else he could have chosen to view as a potential lover. Perhaps someone who held a noble status to their name, or someone powerful (to which you are)... But, NO, the person his heart decided to flutter for was you, the human who had him suffer quite many migraines on their first stay, the human that had spiked his anger into a violent bloodlust, the human who couldn’t stop prying into matters that didn’t concern them, the human that somehow turned minor inconveniences into life-threatening situations. As you can tell, LUCIFER was anything but pleased when he finally sorted out that odd feeling he had whenever he was near you.

Everyone saw it, whereas you experienced it, how passive-aggressive his actions became. He’s still pretty much the same, except for the fact that whenever he addresses you, there is a tone in his voice as though he’s accusing or blaming you for something. And you being you decided to talk to him about it, trying to search out a way to fix whatever offended him somehow… which deepened the warm feeling he harbored for you, and made him crankier. Even Diavolo and Barbatos had to tread carefully around him for a few days…

He eventually caved in to the feeling, accepting that yes, this is how it will be from now on. However, it’s not for the reason that you think it is, him getting frustrated of continuously avoiding the problem. There’s this bubbling rage that creeps up in his chest whenever you direct your gentleness to anyone other than him. Forbid that he catches you doing it to his brothers or even worse, Solomon.

Whatever Lucifer desires, he will get it. Those words of course also apply to you as well, bluntly stating it to you in another font on the night you made a pact with him. So, do as you want, scream, cry, or kick at him, he will not budge. He will even somehow find a way around the power of the pact, exploiting it and twisting it to his benefit. Lucifer understands your reaction, indeed no one will be happy in this situation, but do beware, he does not have the best patience. If you go too far, he will give you a reason as to why so many are petrified of his existence and inflict punishment. Hmm… your fault for capturing his attention like this.

SATAN

You had struck so many emotions in him that SATAN was on edge for a long while. He was akin to a ticking time bomb and became very unpredictable. Just the slightest things had him spewing fire from rage; he practically reverted to his former self, the violent and spiteful person that was first transported into Devildom. He couldn’t understand why he felt this way toward you… a more extreme emotion mixing with the fondness he already held for you. He’s studied it so many times, reading various books or whatever could help him cope with what he’s going through. But not one book provided him with a satisfactory answer, and it drove him crazy.

It took the assistance of Asmodeus, who took pity on how much of a mess he looked, and Leviathan who was able to link his behavior to a famous fictional character trait. Satan finally gets the answer to his problem, and he’s so amused. It would explain a lot, actually. There’s no surprise when word gets around that he has threatened the life out of someone for simply displeasing him. However, his rage for that will NEVER compare to the FURY he feels toward someone who even dares to approach and cross the boundaries he placed on you. He wants to be let loose and throw HELL on that person. He would have never thought that he valued you this much.

He’s very much aware that his tendencies are abnormal. But, he’s a demon, why should he entirely care about what’s wrong or not? Some part of you is very grateful that you are not fully exposed to his more demonic side. Far too many times than you’d like to count have you witnessed his rage and him giving into it, especially when it revolved around you. It will always send a shiver down your spine…

Nevertheless, even though Satan does not necessarily expose his anger to you, the way he begins to vibrate from the wrath coursing through his blood, or the way his veins pop out on his forehead when you try to take your stand is as equally as terrifying… Satan is usually patient with you, his anger fizzling out most times by your voice alone. But, on topics such as these when you disagree with what he does, he cannot help but extend a bit of his cruel nature to you. Eventually, you gave up and accepted your predicament. Lucifer was already bad in his own way, why the hell would you choose to test the waters with The Avatar of Wrath?

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #🥛━ 𝓡𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 #obey me #obey me nightbringer #yandere obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x y/n #obey me x you #yandere obey me x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #romantic yandere #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #lucifer x reader #satan x reader

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ckret2 · 7 months ago

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I love the fact that the axolotl is kind of a neutral entity.

Many headcanon it as a being that wants to do the righteous thing no matter what. But here it just seems to interfere when it's part of the deity job deal or out of curiosity.

And it's funny because bill thought as well that the Ax would be like a god of justice, and the way he reacted when he realized that was not the case it's so funny, but also made me wonder how they will interact with each other in the future!

Now bill knows the body isn't a punishment, is part of what he asked the ax for, to return, but he never said how he wanted to return, so I guess the ax it took the opportunity to temporarily? stop him. Maybe the ax isn't always trying to be righteous but i'm sure it does want to keep bill from destroying the universe.

I'm dying to know how this develops in the next chapters!

I saved this ask from last week's chapter since this week's goes even farther in making him a neutral entity, with Bill talking about stuff like how he handles "casual meet-and-greets."

I do think that the Axolotl very strongly believes in doing the righteous thing; but like... in the same way as a lawyer that takes pro bono cases for defendants who otherwise wouldn't stand a chance. (This is a No Lawyer Slander zone, this isn't a setup for "oh well if he's like an attorney then he's evil lol" joke.) A righteously-motivated lawyer can take cases all day that ensure a downtrodden defendant has his civil rights respected...

... but because of that, he's not taking the big flashy cases that go all the way to the Supreme Court and help nationally change civil rights. (But if he were taking the flashy cases, who would help THIS defendant?)

... and he might be the pro bono attorney of a mass murderer, in which case some people might think defending him AT ALL is contrary to their idea of justice. (But if he doesn't defend him, who will? Somebody's gotta defend that murderer.)

... and if he's in his office working and he sees a bird outside pecking at a bug, he might stop to watch.

... and when he commutes home after work, he might drive a car that burns gas and makes the environment just a little bit worse.

... and at home he'll probably watch TV rather than spend his precious downtime throwing himself into championing yet another social justice cause.

The Ax isn't a flawlessly Lawful Good Fantasy God, he's just some dude powerful enough you could call him a god if you believe in that kind of thing. And "some dude" can fight for justice without fighting for it EVERY SINGLE SECOND.

A pro bono attorney doesn't look like a figure of righteousness when he's commuting or watching TV or having lunch.

And it's probably hard to see what righteousness he's putting into the world at all if you're the bug getting pecked by the bird or splattering against his windshield. What does his "justice" mean to you? Today, Gravity Falls is the anthill.

And—in spite of the above metaphor—this isn't just some random shitty defendant. Bill Cipher is a big splashy Supreme Court change-the-divine-definition-of-justice court case.

#cosmicalunrest #ask #bill goldilocks cipher

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lightlycareless · 9 months ago

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I was reading your scorned ex husband Naoya and I was wondering how much worse he’d be if him and Y/N had to share custody of a child(How the Zen’ins let Y/N get a divorce AND get joint custody idk. Maybe it was Naoya’s last act of kindness to his wife). Hehehe, I feel like it’d be so messy

Heya anon!!

Couldn't get this idea out of my mind because I needed the angst :> I gotta say, your child here is the true victim. And yes, it would be messy. You'd end up hating Naoya for it—

But I won't say much, I'll let you read it instead :)

warnings: naoya is your ex-husband. you have a daugther named naomi. naoya's a jerk. naomi is a victim of his idiotness. toxic relationships. physical violence.

also, this is the work anon is referring to (can be read independently.)

Happy reading!!

Sharing custody of your beloved daughter Naomi with Naoya is, as expected, the most surprising, frustrating, and difficult (if not borderline impossible) things to do.

And no, it’s not because you must arrange your schedule to fit this new lifestyle—nothing that ever related to Naomi could be that.

Rather, because of the things Naoya was doing to spite you. He might deny it as much as he wanted, but what else could you call these… questionable behaviors?

First, through setting up thousands of excuses as to why the place Naomi was to visit with him was not good enough.

Sure, you could argue that as her father, he was entitled to… voice his opinion and choose an option that would also be of his liking—it’s their time together, after all, which didn’t happen every day; restricted to the weekends, per previous agreement.

But his suggestions were just so stupid, if not inappropriate for a child!

What made him think that spending the weekend over at this office was any good?

Or going to all these fancy restaurants that limit Naomi when it comes to her behavior?! She’s a kid, for god’s sake—the weekends are supposed to be a break from the boring school routine she’s subjected to on the weekdays!

“The amusement park is too noisy.”

“There’s too many germs at the water park.”

“She if wants to see a movie, she can do it at the house.”

Just to state a few.

It was highly infuriating, to say the least, to see how dismissively he behaved towards his own daughter. Angering enough, that the next time he said one of those stupid comments of his, you couldn’t help but lash out, wondering—

“Do you even love Naomi?”

Naoya remains quiet at your accusation, before opting to scoff in response, rolling his eyes, and leaving.

You believed that it wouldn’t get any worse than this. That it couldn’t.

But oh, how wrong you were.

By the next time Naomi returns from spending the weekend with her father, she runs to your arms as soon as she steps through the door, teary eyed and highly distraught, confiding you with words which prove Naoya can indeed be worse.

No, not worse.

Straight up atrocious.

“Naomi, pumpkin, what’s wrong??” you fret, taking the poor child in a tight embrace as she begins to cry.

“I don’t want to go with papa anymore…” is what she confesses, and at the notion of Naoya doing something stupid, yet again, your chest tightens with anger.

«Just what did he do this time?!» Your mind would frantically wonder, going through a long list of possible causes, hating each one more and more as you went past them.

And yet, no amount of preparation would be comparable to what Naomi eventually confessed.

“Papa made me call a… a woman mama.” She begins. “I—I didn’t want to, but he—he told me I couldn’t go back if I—if I didn’t do it…!”

That’s it.

Naoya has done it.

Officially.

You could respect his intolerance when it comes to doing something genuinely fun, or his lack of tact when being a father—hell, even you were accepting of it, outside of what the law said. Because deep inside you, you still believed he deserved to be in Naomi’s life.

And now that this new advancement rose to the occasion, regardless of how much it hurt you, you were also willing to accept the fact he was moving on with someone else.

But this…

This was beyond your limits.

Because if Naoya had any issues. it would be kept between him and you.

Naomi is nothing but an innocent girl that deserves to have parents that love her, and have nothing but her happiness in mind, doing all what it takes to ensure such a thing!

Not a father that immaturely tried to spite the mother of his child for bitter reasons.

And certainly not a mother that allowed this to go on for far too long.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You’d shriek the moment you got a look at him in his office, Naoya freshly out of a meeting, and rightfully taken aback by your sudden, unannounced visit—any other time, you would’ve cared enough to not have caused a scene, but when it came to Naomi, you didn’t care if this was all his employees and family would talk about for the upcoming weeks.

You just bothered to know what was inside his stupid little fucking mind to have demanded such absurdity from your daughter and disrespected you in the process!

“What are you doing here, Y/N—"

“I can respect you seeing other people, really, I do.” You cut through his words; this isn’t his moment to talk, after all. “In fact, I’m glad you have! Great, you’re moving on!

But I will not tolerate disrespect towards my daughter, or my role as her mother! Did you know Naomi came back home crying because you forced her to call a woman she doesn’t even know her mom? What were you thinking?!”

“I was thinking of what was right.” He quickly interjects, a prominent frown on his face. “Do you think it’s acceptable to have this—this arrangement??”

“No, it’s not, because I should’ve gotten full custody of her!” you cry back. “I can’t believe you managed to convince the judge you were actually a good father to her! But let’s be real, that was your family’s money talking, wasn’t it?”

“Y/N—I won’t allow you to—!”

“Oh, but I have to?!” you gasp. “I have to take the way you treat Naomi weekend after weekend? Dismissing her like she was just a random kid, and not your daughter? Which you wanted to have if I need to remind you! And after all this, you still have the nerve to tell me I’m being disrespectful?!”

“Well, now that we’re talking about reminders, you’d do good in remembering you’re the one that filed for divorce! The whole reason this is happening at all is because of you!”

“Fine! I’ll play the villain if you want to—But I won’t stomach you hurting Naomi!” you cry. “She is your daughter, Naoya! At least have a bit of decorum when it comes to her!”

“Ha! I don’t recall having a daughter so insolent against her own fa—”

Naoya doesn’t even finish his words before your hand lands a slap across his face, a movement so harsh that effectively turns his head to the side, with a sound equally resounding in both his mind and office, that left him both speechless and startled as everyone else quickly exited the room, understanding it was best to leave in their own terms while they still could.

While you, on the other hand, frantically tried to wrap your head around the fact that not only was he comfortable insulting you, but your innocent daughter as well.

The one person that did not deserve any of the horrible things he was doing.

The one act you could never forgive.

“Do not, ever, talk about Naomi like that!” you hiss. “Naomi has been nothing but accepting of your irresponsible parenting! Far more than she should be! In fact, she’s—she’s always excited to wait for the moment she’ll get to see you again, since you don’t bother reaching out to her any other way!

And you still dare talk about her like that?! What is wrong with you, Naoya?! Why are you doing all of this?! You literally don’t have anything in your odds to be behaving this way!

You have a good job, no—you have your whole life set, and you’re moving on with someone else too! So, why must you keep hurting me and your daughter? Are you not satisfied with what you have? With your new life without the wife you hated oh so much?!

Or do we—do we have to be miserable just for you to be happy?”

But even then, Naoya doesn’t respond; instead, he just keeps silent, as if deep in his thoughts while placing his hand over his cheek, carefully feeling the marks of your attack underneath his fingers before eventually glancing back at you.

And you don’t know what it was—perhaps the silence following the turmoil allowed the depths of your emotions to finally settle, or maybe it was the disbelief of reaching your breaking point and hurting Naoya, an act you greatly came to regret later on, pushed you to it— but you’d end up revealing far more than what you initially wanted.

Offering a glimpse of your true feelings, a question that erupted the moment divorce crossed your mind, and filed the papers, continuing to torment you to this day, more so when doing what you did…

“Where—where did we go wrong?”

“You did this.” Naoya accuses—there was fury in his eyes, an expected sentiment after all that transpired. And yet, underneath that fire, something inside you was still able to discern that far from pained by the act… he was sorrowful both got there in the first place. “All of this is your fault—”

“What was I supposed to do, Naoya? Stay behind in a household where I was nothing but miserable, where your family wouldn’t bother respect me, or our daughter, and with you—you allowing all of it? Like we were deserving of it?” you breathe. “Did you…. all this time—Hate me?”

“No, I don’t hate you.” Naoya disputed. “I—I don’t—I never did.”

“Do you hate Naomi, then?” you fret. “How—how could you do that, Naoya? She’s your daughter, for fucks sake! A child! What could she have done to you to earn your hatred?! You—you even wanted her!”

“It’s not—It’s not against her—it never was. I couldn’t do anything to hurt—”

“Then what is it?! What is it that has you so—so angry at us!”

“Y/N—I—I don’t know—”

“Just tell me!” you cry. “Tell me!! Why is it always so hard for you to tell the truth?!”

“I never wanted to hurt Naomi! I could never!”

“Don’t lie to me—not after all the horrible things you’ve done to her! Do you really need us to be miserable just to be happy?! You have everything in the world! Why can’t you just let us go—"

“Because I never wanted you to leave!” He suddenly confesses, a shocking truth that hits you across the face, perhaps much sharper than the slape you gave him, leaving you silent all air leaves your lungs. “I never wanted that—that stupid divorce! Or for you to act like I wasn’t even important to you!”

“Naoya—what does that even—”

“You know damn well what I mean!” he hisses, burning tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “I—I could never hurt Naomi, I wouldn’t dream of it—but it was the only way to get you to look at me. The only way to see you again—or even—or even react to me!”

“Wha—what?”

“Ever since you… ever since we got divorced, is like I don’t exist to you anymore.” Naoya continues, lowering his gaze to the floor, the weight of his actions, as well as your hardened gaze, too much for him to take. “I call you, text you, even try looking for you at your house, but you’re nowhere to be found. Or even… interested in seeing me again.”

“And why would I want to do that?” you murmur, frowning. “With the way you treated me—the way you’re treating our daughter, why would you even think I want to do that?”

“Can you say with certainty, that you don’t feel anything for me anymore, then?” Your ex-husband adds. “That in your heart, there’s nothing—nothing left for me?”

“That’s… that’s not what matters.” You pause. “Not anymore.”

“So that’s it? That’s what you’re going with? You’re just going to abandon this marriage, like it didn’t mean anything?” Naoya takes a step closer to you, and while you move away from him, you don’t do the same at the second attempt, less when he placed his hand over your cheek, gently touching you the same way he’d done many, many years ago—when the two were, perhaps, still in love.

“It meant the world to me, Naoya.” You say, voice trembling, doing your best to not let the tears in your eyes slide down your cheeks—to no avail, caught by his gentle thumb. “There was nothing more than I wanted than to make this marriage work. But… it wasn’t meant to be, no matter how much I tried, or how many children we had—”

“We can still do it—we can still go back and make it better—right this time."

But deep inside you, you knew that wouldn’t be possible.

Because what you hoped Naomi would represent, the one last chance to save this marriage… simply became its doom, a tool for him to use against it as well—a declaration that truly, not even a blessing, like was meant to be for you and him, could do the now impossible task.

After all, if it didn’t happen during the marriage… what security did you have it would happen after? More so with the things he selfishly did to grab your attention?

It was unjust for Naomi. The one person you’ve long accepted to shift your whole existence for, and would willingly continue to do so, even if it meant letting go of what once made you happy.

Or wished that one day would.

Your work was carved out for you, you just… needed to stop being the delusional mother that wished for a happy, healthy marriage with the man you considered the love of your life…

And walk away from the father that is still unwilling to let go. the father from not letting go.

“I hope you enjoyed your weekend with Naomi.” You begin, moving away from his hand and getting a glimpse of his shocked, if not confused, eyes, which gave you the impression he knew what you were to say—

Or perhaps, the reluctance to accept this was to happen.

“Because it’ll be the last.”

Ex-husband was too merciful of a title to give him.

With at that happened, and all you needed to do…

No one was more fitting.

Oof, that was angsty :s well, it's safe to say Y/N and Naoya are not happening again.

I honestly always liked the idea that if Y/N and Naoya break up/divorce, they wouldn't date again. Sure, they'd try, specially with Naoya's family, but they would never move on. They can't—their fates were destined to be with one another, and if not possible, then that's it—no other person can come into their life.

Gee, how... dramatic of me lol. But, well, I like tragic stories :)

Anyways, I hope it was to your liking! Thank you so much for this angsty ask heheh. Take care, and hope to see you soon!! ❤️❤️

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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touteslespetiteschosess · 1 year ago

Text

Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

GIF by kykygif

Chapter 3 : Unfortunate Circumstances

Chapter 2

Plot: Just when she thought things couldn't get worse, y/n's car breaks down and only Kylian is on hand to help.

Word Count: 1771

"Shit, shit, shit!" y/n yelled, slamming her palm into the steering wheel several times.

No matter how many times she twisted the key, her car's engine refused to start. It kept revving up, giving her a snippet of hope, before the rumbling noise died out again.

For a little while, she sat, her forehead against the wheel. It was dark outside, which since it was July, was saying something. After Kylian's backhanded Instagram story yesterday, she'd been dying at the office and had only managed to escape her ever-mounting workload at this late hour.

Now, thanks to her stupid, ten-year-old car, her entire night was ruined as well as her evening and her day. Besides the night security team, nobody else was at the facility. She'd have to order an Uber, which would take forever to come, given that the facility was miles from the city. Plus, paying for an Uber would bankrupt her, on top of the mechanic fees she was going to have to pay.

One final time, she placed her hand on the key, "Come on, baby, you can do this."

No, it couldn't.

For the second day in a row, she sat alone and let out a loud yell, a roar really, except this time she received a response. There was a loud knock on her window and she glanced up, a frown immediately descending on her features.

Right outside her window, Kylian Mbappé stood, a self-satisfied grin on his face. When she just glared at him, he raised his hand and waved condescendingly.

Mortified, she wound down her window, the fact that her window was manually rolled down only adding to her embarrassment. Inch by inch, it slowly squeaked down, while she twisted the handle, and she glanced back up at him, sucking on her teeth awkwardly.

"You okay in there?" he asked peering down at her.

"Peachy." she declared, "Can I help you?"

"Car trouble?"

"No. I just like sitting in here, don't worry."

Unimpressed, he frowned, "Do you need a lift?"

"No, thank you." she cleared her throat, "I'll just... be fine, thanks."

"Get out of the car; I'm giving you a lift. Which arrondissement do you live in?"

"I don't need a lift, thank you, Kylian."

He frowned, folding his arms over his chest, "Get out of the car."

Sinking down in her seat, she stared straight ahead, out the windshield, arms folded over her chest, "I'm perfectly happy here."

"You can't sit in your car all night to spite me. You need to get home."

"I'll be fine." she declared, getting back to work winding the window up, "Goodnight."

As soon as she finished the window, he swung her door open, "Come on." he declared, sternly.

"Do you always demand random women get into your car?" she asked, refusing to stare anywhere but out of her windshield.

Grabbing her arm and pulling her out himself, he murmured, "Seulement les jolies."

A scowl rested on her face but she followed him to his car, well aware that he was right, she really did need a lift home- not that she'd ever tell him that. His car was nice, a large, blacked-out Mercedes, the kind of car a soccer mom would drive, which she found quite amusing. Hesitantly, she climbed into the passenger seat, relaxing into the comfortable leather.

As he started the engine, she mumbled, "Thank you."

He glanced out the window at her beat-up little car, as he drove past it in the parking lot, "Why do you drive a toaster?" he asked, not looking over at her, "Enrique been skimping on your paycheque?"

"I'm yet to get my first paycheque. Besides, I just moved to Paris, do you know how expensive that is?"

As much as she had a point; his car made hers look like a horse and cart. Besides, her lump of metal on wheels probably should've been scrapped before she was even born. She settled into his heated seat, watching the GPS on the screen.

"What, did you waste all your money on pantsuits?" he asked.

"I'm wearing a skirt."

Why did she say that as though he hadn't noticed?

They both settled into awkward silence, as he pulled out of the facility. After a few minutes, he quietly said, "Where am I taking you?"

She leant forward, typing her address into the car's GPS. He watched her and commented, "You live in the 18th?" At first, he looked a little puzzled, maybe concerned, though she highly doubted that as she wasn't too sure he experienced emotions besides horny and amused. However, when his face morphed into a smirk (an amused smirk), she already knew what was coming, "Are you a-"

"No, I'm not a fucking prostitute." she finished for him.

He grinned widely as she scowled furiously, "I was joking, jeez. That's a rough neighbourhood."

"Unfortunately, not everyone in this city can afford to live ten metres from the Eiffel Tower in a twenty-bedroom penthouse."

"You're the head of PR at PSG, I don't think you're exactly on minimum wage."

"Well, until two weeks ago I was just some PR junior at Chelsea." she paused, "This was a big promotion but I know how temporary these can be. I'm living below my means because I know my means can change like the wind."

He puffed out air, "Do you never wanna treat yourself though?"

"Easier to treat yourself when you make 2 million euros a week."

"Only if you round up." he muttered, "What were you doing at the office that late anyway?"

Flatly, she asked, "Do you really want me to say it?"

"Dealing with me?"

"You know, I relaxed for all of five seconds last night. It was so blissful until I saw your Instagram."

He contemplated apologising for maybe five seconds before remembering that it was a she-devil trapped in a supermodel's body, who sat in his passenger seat. "You follow my Instagram?"

"Literally my job."

"I'm not going to follow you back."

"Didn't ask you to."

"But you want me to, secretly. I mean, how cool would your little brother think you are?"

"I don't have a little brother." she shook her head, "Every time I think you have any redeeming qualities or you seem the least bit likeable, you just wreck it all."

"I can be very likeable." he shrugged.

"That doesn't mean you're likeable or nice. Anyone can lie."

"But I am likeable and I am very nice." he declared.

"I see, so it's just me who gets this side of you?"

"Yep." he popped his 'p'. She didn't reply.

After a while, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. She turned, casting a glare in his direction. Her eyes dragged down to his biceps, bulging out of his tight t-shirt and- No. She wasn't drooling over his muscles, no matter how big they were or how much she wanted to touch them. No! Sure, he was handsome, but he was a complete ass! He'd just admitted that!

She sighed, "I don't hate you."

"Well, hate is a very strong word." he conceded.

"Okay. But I don't hate you."

"Apology accepted."

"It wasn't an apology."

"Well, if it was I would accept it."

She shook her head, turning to look out of the window to hide the slight smile creeping onto her face, "I have nothing to apologise for."

"You ruined my reputation."

"You brought it on yourself, really. Besides, you'll recover."

He hesitated, "The old head of PR never cancelled me."

"The old head of PR got fired for a reason, and you're not cancelled."

"I feel pretty cancelled."

She rolled her eyes, as they approached the city, leaning her head on the cold window. They cruised through Paris, the street narrowing more and more the further into the urban landscape they grew.

As they neared Montmartre, she quietly said, "You can just drop me here if you want, you don't need to go out of your way."

Dryly, he laughed, "No." he softened his tone, "You shouldn't be alone at night here, it's not safe."

"It's fine. I'm a black belt in kung fu."

"What, really?"

"No. But I'm fine."

"What, have you got someone waiting to protect you at home?"

"Nope, but it's not the 18 hundreds, I don't need a chaperone."

"So there's no boyfriend in the picture or-"

"Are you seriously trying to flirt with me after lecturing me for cancelling you?"

"No, I just thought you would. You know, a good-looking woman like yourself, who knows the Kylian Mbappé. What guy wouldn't be interested?"

"Well, I don't officially know you. You don't follow me back on Instagram, after all."

Without even thinking about it, he laughed, leaning back into his seat He shrugged, "Hey, if you release a statement displaying PSG's adoration of me, maybe I'll consider liking a couple of your posts."

"Have you ever spoken to a woman before?" she asked.

"I'm not flirting." he huffed.

"So you're just asking me if I have a boyfriend because I'm good-looking and you're curious?"

"Yeah. I'm just being friendly and sociable." he hesitated before adding, "And nice and likeable. Your name is y/n... something, you don't have a brother, you don't have a boyfriend, you're not very good at kung fu, you're wearing a skirt, you make less than 2 million euros a week, you used to work at Chelsea, and you now live but don't work in the red light district."

She was a little taken aback but she didn't let it show on her face. After a moment or two, she declared, "I have a brother."

"You said you didn't?"

"I said I didn't have a little brother. He's two years older than me."

"And he's a big Kylian Mbappé fan?"

"Nah, he thinks you're-" she cut herself off, clearing her throat, "No, not really."

"He thinks I'm what?" he asked, glancing at her.

She hesitated before admitting, "A conceited prick who causes his sister week-long stomach aches."

"Oh."

"You asked," she mumbled.

"Maybe he has a point. But I can be very nice."

"You keep saying that. I'm still waiting on the evidence."

He pulled the car over, "You'll see."

She glanced out the window, up at her apartment block, then turned back to him, "Thank you for the lift, Kylian."

"You're welcome, y/n."

She opened the door and climbed out of the car, a satisfied grin on her face as her back was to him. Then, she headed inside, unaware that his eyes were fixed on her until her front door closed. He watched her leave the car and cross the street, just to make sure the freaks that hung around in her dodgy neighbourhood didn't try anything with her. Then, even once the door had closed, he watched for a couple more minutes, just to be sure.

Not because he cared about her of course. Because he didn't. He made that very clear in his mind. Just because he was a nice person. He'd do the same for anyone. Even y/n.

#kylian mbappe #france #kylian x you #kylian x reader #kylian fanfic #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe x reader #footballer #football #fanfic #kylian mbappé #mbappé #mbappe

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basil-the-scorned · 1 month ago

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Flufftober Alt 1: “I’ve got you”

Summary: Hangman is intense nowadays, to say the least. Even in thought. Or Adam has a bit of character bleed by accident.

Fandom: All Elite Wrestling

Characters: "Hangman" Adam Page, Nick Jackson

Additional Tags: Character Bleed (A bit of it), Platonic Relationship

AN: First alt for me! Also to note, this is all platonic. I tend to write people very touchy unless stated otherwise, it’s just part of my writing.

@flufftober

Adam was used to being dragged towards his doom. It was part of the fate he signed up for as soon as he decided he would be wrestling for the rest of his life. He wasn't always prepared for it but once he gets his footing somewhat on the ground, he finds a way to make it work.

This wasn't one of those times, at all. In fact, the weight he was using to stand his ground was failing him with each tug he was receiving. He wasn't going anywhere near what was awaiting him, not even when the pulls were almost getting to the point of being painful.

"It's not that...bad." Another tug, which made Adam hiss out. The pull slacked, but the person was still hanging on by Hangman's jacket sleeve. They weren't even anywhere near the ring, but instead outside of a movie theater showing some kind of movie he swore up and down he would not see.

"Not a chance in hell." Adam made it even more clearer by yanking his arm towards him and a laughing Nick bumping into his chest. Adam had to stand his ground, he had to. He knows the signs of a bad watch when he sees one, so why did he even let Nick bring him here?

"Come on, cowboy!" Every word was full of giggles, a far cry from how Nick would be in those stuffy bright suits and matching fedora hats on TV. All serious, would have probably left Hangman outside to watch the movie himself.

Then again, Hangman wouldn't even be out with him at all, still full of anger and spite for anyone that wronged him. He wouldn't be this playful with his words despite what he says, or let one of the Young Bucks try to guide him closer to the doors. Adam could imagine that cowboy, yelling at him at why was he away from his family--the family that literally pushed him out the door as soon as Nick whispered what movie they were seeing--or why wasn't Nicholas on the ground in front of him?

Back off, he mentally barks out at the cowboy. He didn’t want any parts of him today.

"Adam..." He wouldn't light up at his name being called out so softly, even if Nick was now frowning up at him. "You have that look again."

"What look?" Adam asked.

"Hanger's." The Bucks, both of their weaknesses, yet Hangman was the one that was taking things to the next level. Adam was able to walk away as soon as he saw those serious faces crack into smiles backstage, when they would mimic how he would stomp around in the ring.

Still, Hangman now had the tendency to linger sometimes when he least wanted it. He shakes his head, his hair rubbing a bit against his face. "How...how could you tell that?” He got hands picking at his shirt for a bit, before he got an answer.

“I don’t know. You look more…sad. ”

Adam lets out some kind of a laugh, though it didn’t have any humor in it. He hit the nail pretty good on the head. “It’s something like that, I guess.”

“Well, that’s why,” Nick starts off, lightly pushing himself off of Adam to look at him with that same frown, “we need to go to this movie! Take your mind off of him.”

“Do you even know what it’s about?” To that, he gets a shrug.

“I only read the summary.” That didn’t sound promising at all. Worse, if it’s what he thinks it is, the poster was making his skin crawl with mismatched fonts and clashing colors on it. “But I got you, just trust me on this.” Nick had once again grabbed the end of his jacket, only now he was turned towards the doors of the theater.

“Nick…” Adam barely begged, sort of resigning towards his fate.

#flufftober2024 #alt 1 #aew #hangman adam page #adam page #nick jackson

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duriens · 5 months ago

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did the show just.... butcher devil's minion completely??

I didn't mind Armand's characterization in the show so far (well, kind of, except the fact that they turned him into a supervillain vs. saint Lestat) but the sudden reveal that Daniel Molloy was turned by Armand "out of spite", leaving him all alone to fend for himself apparently, really put me off. so not only there is little to no chance that devil's minion ever happened in the 70s or 80s, but also it's not gonna happen in 2022? because Daniel has already been turned, and the turning of Daniel is the culmination of Armand's and Daniel's relationship arc together, one that is for sure unhealthy and codependent and obsessive, but that was also tender and sweet in a very special way - no wonder that chapter has been a fan favorite for so many for so long. and they just.... discarded it like that?

Daniel's a vampire, he's been turned out of spite, it's heavily hinted that it happened either immediately after Dubai or very little time later. I really doubt there has been time/interest to do any sort of chase, or one that culminates into the sort of feelings Armand and Daniel develop for each other, at least. Daniel destroyed Armand in the eyes of his lover and I really don't think there's any sort of love story brewing there. Doesn't seem it happened in the past either, cause there's not a single hint at the Alice theory in this episode and I thought that if it was true, we'd have another little crumb before the season was over.

What about Armand's line that making fledglings repulsed/repulses him? That was a really important piece of characterization and they didn't even let us see him work through that when turning Daniel. Book Armand sees the process as something worse than killing, and that is why he never did it. He finally concedes because of love for Daniel, however obsessive it is, because Daniel is begging him on his death bed, because he needs him forever and Daniel needs him, too. From repulsion to acceptance because of a pure, absolute sentiment. Show Armand turns Daniel Molloy because he's full of spite. Why would they take the 'Armand is a super villain and theres nothing else to him' route and give him a petty vedetta for that one act that is so important for him in the book, as a character? Why??

and why did they have the talamasca guy tell Daniel 'you should be scared of the other one' when literally they made Armand the dude who kills and turns Daniel, whereas Louis is his best friend?? It just doesn't make sense. There's quite a bit that doesn't make sense to me in this last episode. But I gotta admit, the treatment of Armand's and Daniel's characters has baffled me. even if I weren't a devil minion's fan or a fan of these two characters specifically, it would've rubbed me the wrong way.

I don't know. I guess we'll see what they do next; hoping that there is more to that event than a simple 'oh he turned u cause u ruined his life' and Armand fucking off into the sunset forever (not quite, lol). maybe we'll find out it was all an elaborate plot from Daniel who knew he was paying with fire and counted on Armand to be so mad he would do the one act he found repulsive: finally making a vampire. maybe that's it, and Daniel had decided at some point during the sessions that he didn't want to die, that he wanted the gift. maybe he never changed his mind about it since the 70s. maybe he played Armand. manipulating the manipulator? makes sense in a way, I guess, but boy is it a waste to not serve on a silver platter all those sad and tender and raw and odd feelings that the devil's minion chapter already had prepared for us.

#I'm a bit sad cause they kinda butchered my favorite part aa ahaaa #am I still an Armand apologist? yes #will I still watch it as long as Assad plays Armand? yes #idk. poor Armand and Daniel u kinda deserved better #please somebody console me about Armand and devil's minion.#I need somebody to tell me it's gonna be alright and they haven't deleted their relationship #I don't need for it to be romantic it can be platonic also but. but. it doesn't seem there's any way It can happen anymore #iwtv #iwtv spoilers #Armand #the vampire Armand #Daniel molloy #devil's minion #Anne rice's interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire spoilers

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hopeswriting · 1 year ago

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i love you characters who know exactly who they are, monstrous parts and all. monstrous parts and nothing else. i love you characters who embrace it fully and wholly, who are happy and at peace with who they are and have no intention to ever change their ways or interest in becoming a better version of themselves. i love you characters who've painstakingly perfected being monsters, and so they'd know they're already the best version of themselves. characters who've weaponized their monstrous parts to get every single thing they want out of life, and who are unashamed and unapologetic and proud and bold about it.

i love you characters perfectly self-aware of their monstrous parts who gleefully look straight back at the rightfully deserved and earned scorn, judgment and condemnation thrown their ways with wide grins that's all teeth. characters who say "you're right, i am a monster. and you should try to stop me. but can you?" and it's a threat.

i love you characters who won't stand for anyone telling them they don't get to have love and happiness because of their monstrous parts. characters who'll stop at nothing to take hold of love and happiness of their own in spite of the world telling them they don't get to have those things, and who don't care to become even more irredeemable than they already are along the way.

i love you monstrous characters who hold tightly onto the broken and bleeding forms of the love and happiness they took for themselves, with no intention to ever let go of them even if it means they shatter in their hands. characters who'd rather they shatter in their hands before ever letting go of them, and who made sure to first break them and make them bleed so they could fit within their hands to begin with. i love you characters who don't think it makes it any less meaningful or worthy, and who would do it all over again and even worse if need be, because how else can a monster even love anyway but with sharp teeth and claws and your blood and tears warm on their lips and tongue?

i love you characters whose monstrous parts are their oldest and most loyal and trustworthy companions. characters who find comfort in their monstrous parts and are ruthlessly and mercilessly protective of them. i love you characters who can't even fathom who they could possibly be other than monsters, and yet have this gaping, bottomless pit of loneliness and yearning for something they couldn't possibly know the name of. i love you characters who've been monsters for as long as they've had that gaping and bottomless pit inside them as far as they can remember.

i love you monstrous characters who've never imagined they could ever be loved back for the monsters they are, but then they are. monstrous characters who've never imagined the broken and bleeding forms of the love and happiness within their hands could choose and want to stay right there anyway, but then they do. i love you characters who suddenly have to confront and grapple with the idea that maybe they can be something else other than monsters once they're loved.

i love you monstrous characters who're loved anyway, monstrous parts and all. monstrous parts and nothing else. i love you monstrous characters loved for being monsters first and foremost, monstrous characters loved because they're monsters, and not in spite of it.

i love you characters who know no amount of love given to them will ever change the fact they're monsters. i love you characters being loved anyway with a love that doesn't ask or want or expect them to become any less monstrous for it, but they want to try to change for it anyway. i love you monstrous characters who are loved and whose nature won't change for it, but maybe their ways can. maybe they can try to make their monstrous parts a little less sharp and jagged and deadly, a little less often bloody and a little more merciful and kind out of being loved as they are anyway.

i love you monstrous characters learning to let go of the broken and bleeding forms of the love and happiness within their hands, and having their whole world turned upside down when they choose to stay anyway. i love you monstrous characters being made completely undone not by the forgiveness for the broken and bleeding parts, but by the acceptance of them.

i love you characters who are monsters and loved anyway and who don't become any less of monsters for it, but so what of it? after all, when is a monster not a monster? when there's no changing of their nature, and yet they try to not give in to it anyway just because they were born with sharp teeth and claws and a craving for blood that'd make it so easy to.

i love you monstrous characters who are loved and don't become any less of monsters for it, but who still keep being loved anyway.

i love you monstrous characters resolving to try to become more human even knowing they'll never really succeed at it because they still keep being loved anyway.

#is this anything #idk but i saw a post about sherlock and watson about how the reason watson stays with sherlock #is because he has a cruel streak in him he can only let out in the open with sherlock #and i was like 'oh. OH. /this/ is what i love so much about 56r specifically from nello's pov'#and then my brain just went brrrr you know how it is #so yeah this is about #khr reborn #and moth if you see this it's also about #khr byakuran #and now i think about it it's lowkey also about #rokudo mukuro #(and yes of course it's also about tsuna. because this somehow ended up being the r27 version of this post instead of the 56r version lol)#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr text post #ramblings a/w #anyway #i do want to emphasize that this post ISNT about fixing the character with the power of love #do you get it? do you get it's not the point being made here? because it's extremely important to me you do actually #this post is about loving what cannot be loved and shouldn't be deserving of love #/so/ wholly and earnestly and without reserve or judgment or expectations and with full acceptance anyway #it makes you want to do the impossibe by trying to go against your nature all on your own even knowing you'll never be able to do so #and both of you recognizing and being aware it's the strongest and most vulnerable and devoted love language you're able to speak through #and that being enough and the point in and of itself and worth fighting and trying for

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