#it shattered my entire earth

[linhzard]

steady breathing now, jojo!

(this is a redraw hehe)

[mothmp3]

Everybody make fun of the pretty boy rookie

[novella-november]

Is this fanfic friendly? I feel like an outlier.

I guess this is my sign it's time to throw together a FAQ post to link to lol.

Yes, every event for this blog is fanfic friendly :D

Though as I mentioned on my Ominous October post, for events that include multiple short stories, I encourage everyone to flex their creativity and take one of their planned short story fanfics, and at least *attempt* to turn one of them into something entirely original; rebuilding a character and story from the ground up to stand on its own two legs is no easy feat, and that is what makes it so fun!

It really gets your creative gears turning, to make an "au of an existing material" to be something entirely original, and you can be pleasantly surprised about the things you come up with!

As a few people say, its not just a matter of "filing the serial numbers off" -- you have to add in just as much *or more* as what you take out when you are turning a fanfiction into something that is original and completely divorced from its original source material / inspiration, and that is a hard, but very rewarding challenge!

Obviously, this is not a requirement (there's no hard requirements for any of the challenges, other than no cheating, including no using AI),

but if you would like an extra challenge for the short story events and you're planning on doing entirely fan-fiction, I highly recommend trying it out at least once, and seeing where it leads you--

you may find yourself pleasantly surprised by what you find down that rabbit hole!

[s0fter-sin]

when midoriya punches the zero pointer at the entrance exam, all might says “show who you are, embody what it means to be a true hero, nothing is nobler than self sacrifice” do you think aizawa heard kill bill sirens

[tommygotwrittenoff]

i am obsessed with hen and chim referring to buck or eddie as loverboy

[cadavercowboy]

what is the most irrational/emotionally unhinged thing you’ve done while on your period? i’ll go first: i had a legit full-blown sobbing meltdown when i learned that ben barnes is actually british.

[kudzucataclysm]

IMAGINE OWING THIS GUY 35K SO HE HIRES TWO MENTALLY ILL TEENAGERS TO BEAT YOUR ASS!!!

[cherubfae]

Hi 👋

I'm loving your work so far and had to follow for more!

I was wondering, if you're not busy, if you could do the scenario when the reader tells them i can hold the whole world in my hands and the other looks confused and the reader holds their face in their hands with the hazbin crew + striker and how'd they react to it?

If not, it's totally cool. I look forward to what you put out next! 😊

"𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡" || {𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢}

"I can hold the entire world in my hands. Wanna see?"

tags: gn!afab! reader// gn!ftm! for angel, fluff, cuteness, established relationships

Alastor

A crackle of radio feedback as his eye twitches when you reach for him, calms for a second when you cup his face. His clawed hands rest on top of yours. He's rather confused, how is this holding the--

"You're my whole world, Alastor~!" You grin up at him, lovingly.

The facade of a smile he always wears slips for only a second. But it's one second too long and you catch it. His eyebrows relax, lids drooping, cheeks pushing upwards and he beams at you softly. A genuine smile crossing his lips. He cups your face in return, puffing your cheeks like a fish and a muffled laugh track plays. Leaning his forehead against yours, he grins.

Softly, he whispers, "And you are mine, mon cour."

Lucifer

Immediately his eyes well up. He doesn't have the need to act all cool and collected when he's a total softie. He leans his cheek further into your palm, his eyelids fluttering shut allowing for a moment of respite. Tilting your chin upwards, he captures your lips in a gentle kiss.

"I love you more than anything. You are my life, sweetling, my galaxy. I would dismantle Heaven, Earth, and all of Hell to keep you and Charlie safe."

Charlie

The meeting with Heaven hadn't gone to plan and now, she's curled up like a little blanket burrito in her crimson comforter. She doesn't say anything when you announce that you can hold the whole world in your hands, but she's definitely curious in the way she immediately watches you with interest. She's confused when you cup her cheeks but soon gasps loudly in realization, eyes welling up. You always know just what to say when she's feeling blue.

"M-me? I'm your whole world? But you're my whole world, too!" Charlie grunts, breaking free of her blanket cocoon to cup your face in return. "Look! Now I can hold the world too~!"

Vaggie

She expected your reaction to be much worse. Vaggie finally admitted, albeit she was forced to tell, that she had been an angel this entire time. You hadn't been sure how to react and it was clear you were hurt by her secret and she respected that you needed time to process all of this new information. What she hadn't expected was you approaching her a few hours later, gently cupping her face and telling her that she was your entire world.

A valve breaks loose and Vaggie begins to cry. She wanted to tell you for so long! She really, really did, but she didn't know how! You hold her close, slipping down onto the floor with her letting her cry on your shoulder.

"I didn't want to keep this part of me a secret, but there was so much risk in people knowing-- if they would directly come for you, I just... I couldn't risk your safety if you knew what I truly was. I love you so much, I just wanted to keep us safe."

Husk

The glass he had been wiping down would've shattered on the ground had his tail not caught it. His wings instinctively fluff up, setting the cup on a rack with the rest of the clean, empty glasses.

"Didja have to get up there to tell me this?" He clears his throat deeply, gesturing wildly to ask what you were doing. You, currently perched on top of the bar counter on your knees cupping his face.

"Yeah!" You chirp with a grin. Husk sighs, grabbing you by the waist and hefting you down and off the countertop. He doesn't say a word when your legs wrap around his waist and your arms slide around his shoulders. His cold nose presses to your cheek and he chuckles softly, utterly happy and in love.

"You're a dork, huh, hun? But you're my dork." Husk purrs softly, pulling you in for a brief kiss.

Angel Dust

Owlishly, he stares at you. That confusion melts into a genuine smile and a soft chuckle. His third set of arms materializes, tugging you in by your hips while the other two wrap around your shoulders and waist respectively. Pressing his soft cheek to yours, he affectionately nuzzles you with a laugh.

"You're full of surprises, ain't ya, toots? Y-you're my everything, baby. My world. The one light in this whole damned darkness I call my life."

Vox

He was expecting something much different from you when you climbed into his lap, turning his attention away from his displayed monitors. Red eyes flickering, he's confused when you grasp both sides of his monitor screen. This is new...?? Vox's gaze widens as you finish your statement, chuckling deeply. Covering your hands in his, he places your hand to his chest where his dead heart would still be beating. You make him feel alive, no heartbeat and all.

"Fuck, baby, that's pretty cheesy. But I liked it." Vox grins, red dripping from the corners of his mouth. "C'mere, sweets. Wanna kiss ya."

Blitzø

Why do you have to say some of the cutest shit? Ugh, it makes his heart feel all weird and he's not sure how to react, but he does appreciate it nonetheless, especially with the two of you being alone. You know he's been working on his emotions, trying to do better. When he can't find the words to say, he nuzzles your palm softly and gives you a wobbly smile before harshly rubbing at his eyes.

"Th-thank you, ah, fuck.. Why am I crying? Must be a damn ninja chopping some fuckin' onions somewhere." He sniffles, deeply sighing. He grasps your hand in his, squeezing it softly. "I'm not sure if the world is a large enough example.. To, y'know, express my love or whatever.."

Loona

She's pretty taken aback by your statement, a soft blush staining her cheeks. Her tail gives a little wag and she smiles. Bending down to your height, she gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, her hand slipping into yours.

"You're such a sap, babe, but I love you too. You're my world as well. C'mon, let's see what kind of chaos Beel is having at her party tonight. Not every day I can show off how amazing my partner is."

Striker

Saying that he's surprised is an understatement. He recovers quickly, a smirk curling up his lips and he chuckles softly. He kisses each of your palms, gently removing them from his face. He tugs you in close, tail swaying behind him. Tilting your chin up, his claw running along your lower lip. He leans in close, lips only inches away. His voice noticeably deepens.

"You're sweeter than pie, ain't ya, sugar? Got my heart and stomach all twisted in knots like somethin' awful. I'm not the best with words but I'd be happy to show ya just how much your tender sentiment is mutual. If you'll have me."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[reasonsforhope]

Masterpost: Reasons I firmly believe we will beat climate change

Posts are in reverse chronological order (by post date, not article date), mostly taken from my "climate change" tag, which I went through all the way back to the literal beginning of my blog. Will update periodically.

Especially big deal articles/posts are in bold.

Big picture:

Mature trees offer hope in world of rising emissions (x)

Spying from space: How satellites can help identify and rein in a potent climate pollutant (x)

Good news: Tiny urban green spaces can cool cities and save lives (x)

Conservation and economic development go hand in hand, more often than expected (x)

The exponential growth of solar power will change the world (x)

Sun Machines: Solar, an energy that gets cheaper and cheaper, is going to be huge (x)

Wealthy nations finally deliver promised climate aid, as calls for more equitable funding for poor countries grow (x)

For Earth Day 2024, experts are spreading optimism – not doom. Here's why. (x)

Opinion: I’m a Climate Scientist. I’m Not Screaming Into the Void Anymore. (x)

The World’s Forests Are Doing Much Better Than We Think (x)

‘Staggering’ green growth gives hope for 1.5C, says global energy chief (x)

Beyond Catastrophe: A New Climate Reality Is Coming Into View (x)

Young Forests Capture Carbon Quicker than Previously Thought (x)

Yes, climate change can be beaten by 2050. Here's how. (x)

Soil improvements could keep planet within 1.5C heating target, research shows (x)

The global treaty to save the ozone layer has also slowed Arctic ice melt (x)

The doomers are wrong about humanity’s future — and its past (x)

Scientists Find Methane is Actually Offsetting 30% of its Own Heating Effect on Planet (x)

Are debt-for-climate swaps finally taking off? (x)

High seas treaty: historic deal to protect international waters finally reached at UN (x)

How Could Positive ‘Tipping Points’ Accelerate Climate Action? (x)

Specific examples:

Environmental Campaigners Celebrate As Labour Ends Tory Ban On New Onshore Wind Projects (x)

Private firms are driving a revolution in solar power in Africa (x)

How the small Pacific island nation of Vanuatu drastically cut plastic pollution (x)

Rewilding sites have seen 400% increase in jobs since 2008, research finds [Scotland] (x)

The American Climate Corps take flight, with most jobs based in the West (x)

Waste Heat Generated from Electronics to Warm Finnish City in Winter Thanks to Groundbreaking Thermal Energy Project (x)

Climate protection is now a human right — and lawsuits will follow [European Union] (x)

A new EU ecocide law ‘marks the end of impunity for environmental criminals’ (x)

Solar hits a renewable energy milestone not seen since WWII [United States] (x)

These are the climate grannies. They’ll do whatever it takes to protect their grandchildren. [United States and Native American Nations] (x)

Century of Tree Planting Stalls the Warming Effects in the Eastern United States, Says Study (x)

Chart: Wind and solar are closing in on fossil fuels in the EU (x)

UK use of gas and coal for electricity at lowest since 1957, figures show (x)

Countries That Generate 100% Renewable Energy Electricity (x)

Indigenous advocacy leads to largest dam removal project in US history [United States and Native American Nations] (x)

India’s clean energy transition is rapidly underway, benefiting the entire world (x)

China is set to shatter its wind and solar target five years early, new report finds (x)

‘Game changing’: spate of US lawsuits calls big oil to account for climate crisis (x)

Largest-ever data set collection shows how coral reefs can survive climate change (x)

The Biggest Climate Bill of Your Life - But What Does It DO? [United States] (x)

Good Climate News: Headline Roundup April 1st through April 15th, 2023 (x)

How agroforestry can restore degraded lands and provide income in the Amazon (x) [Brazil]

Loss of Climate-Crucial Mangrove Forests Has Slowed to Near-Negligable Amount Worldwide, Report Hails (x)

Agroecology schools help communities restore degraded land in Guatemala (x)

Climate adaptation:

Solar-powered generators pull clean drinking water 'from thin air,' aiding communities in need: 'It transforms lives' (x)

‘Sponge’ Cities Combat Urban Flooding by Letting Nature Do the Work [China] (x)

Indian Engineers Tackle Water Shortages with Star Wars Tech in Kerala (x)

A green roof or rooftop solar? You can combine them in a biosolar roof — boosting both biodiversity and power output (x)

Global death tolls from natural disasters have actually plummeted over the last century (x)

Los Angeles Just Proved How Spongy a City Can Be (x)

This city turns sewage into drinking water in 24 hours. The concept is catching on [Namibia] (x)

Plants teach their offspring how to adapt to climate change, scientists find (x)

Resurrecting Climate-Resilient Rice in India (x)

Other Masterposts:

Going carbon negative and how we're going to fix global heating (x)

[phantomantz]

finished s4 today and here are some questions I still have

-WHAT HAPPENED TO SLOANE???

-why on earth did raymond "I would take my year with you over a lifetime with someone else" chestnut just leave allison?? like I get if the actor couldn't/didn't want to be in the season but they could have at least come up with an explanation

-why did luther get his ape body back, its not connected to his powers at all. they just did it to make two bad jokes didn't they

-why did some of them get different/upgraded powers but luther and diego didn't?

-when klaus was shot and allison gave him the marigold why didn't he just stay dead? s3 established he has a choice in whether he comes back to life

-what is durango even supposed to be? reginald says that jennifer is more powerful than all of them put together but thats only if she comes into contact with them right?

-HOW DID SHE GET IN THE SQUID

-how did five start the commission

-there was a total of 43 marigold children and yet we only ever meet like 16 of them. who are the others?? Also wouldn't their marigold also have to be absorbed to reset the timeline? Unless it did all get absorbed off screen somehow

-if jennifer was so dangerous why didn't reginald just kill her instead of building an entire town to keep her trapped... i know he wouldn't have had a problem with it.

-also this is more reginald just being stupid but why on earth would he send his kids with MARIGOLD on a mission where he knew a girl with DURANGO would be when he knows if they just made contact it would end the world. ALSO ALSO reginald was literally there so why didn't he just blow her up himself!!?? this shit gets dumber the more i think about it

-five says that the day they were born the timeline shattered or whatever but isn't that just his fault? he's the one with the time travel powers so without him there would be no way to create other timelines. wouldn't it have made more sense for just five to sacrifice himself then...? I guess Viktor would have still ended the world but the commission literally wanted the world to end in that timeline so what's the deal

-how could claire and diegolilas kids still be alive when their parents never existed. that would've created another grandfather paradox according to this shows logic but nope!

-oh yeah and what was the deal with the ben on the train at the end of s3 ... Literally had nothing to do with anything

thats all i can think of rn... I'm sure theres more but... my head hurty. if anyone has an explanation to any of these lmk

[becca-e-barnes]

It might be toxic of me but I really love when men let their jealous, protective side out during sex 🤤

I love the thought of Bucky cradling his girl's face in one hand while he holds himself up with his other, driving his cock in and out of her while whispering the filthiest thing in her ear.

"Shit, you were made for this, weren't you baby? Made to take my load." He's so lost in the way you whine, telling him he's right and he knows it when he feels the way your body clenches and flutters around him.

"Can't believe a pretty little thing like you is all mine. You know you are. You're my girl. Nothing else could even make me feel close to how you do." His dick slides into you, as deep as it can possibly go before he draws back again. His rhythm is manageable but you're pretty aware that your fingernails are digging into the broad expanse of his shoulders and back. It's not like you can be held responsible for that though.

"It's like you were made for me. Sweet and tight and wet and so fucking pretty. You're a dream come true." His self control never lasts too long and you feel the strain on it already. He wants to take you. He wants you squealing and whimpering and screaming his name so all your neighbours know who he is. He wants to make sure you go to work in the morning in a daze, unable to think of anything but the earth shattering orgasms he's dragged from your body. He wants to flood your body with his cum, filling you to the brim, claiming absolutely all of you.

"You're my pretty girl, aren't you?" He asks, using the hand on your face to guide you so your eyes meet his.

"All yours. Don't want anyone else." Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him close in a way that feels desperately romantic. His skin on yours feels perfect and you find you just don't want to separate, not even for a second. Feeling consumed by him doesn't concern you, instead it's comforting. It's lovely to be his; to be wanted and needed by him and to know he's yours in entirely the same way.

[theostrophywife]

le coup de foudre.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: my love mine all mine by mitski.

author's note: this was a result of me binging dune and call me by your name. whoever fancasted timothee chalamet as regulus deserves a forehead kith cause look at him. he's so boyfriend coded it makes me sick.

Regulus Black did not believe in love at first sight. 

It was a foolish notion. One that contradicted his pragmatic beliefs. At his core, Regulus was a realist. In his world, love was not a luxury one could afford. Regulus was raised with the expectation to marry according to class, wealth, and most importantly, blood status. The noble and most ancient house of Black only took the purest of the pure. 

After all, toujours pur, always pure, has been his family’s motto for centuries. There has never been any doubt in his mind that he’d marry another member of the sacred twenty eight. It wasn’t a matter of if, only a question of when. 

During his sixth year, his mother made her intentions very clear. Walburga Black was adamant that he begin his search for a suitable bride. Leave it to his mother to compose a list of ladies she deemed suitable to become the future Mrs. Black. Regulus was to adhere to the carefully curated roster. They were names that he’d seen a million times before. Greengrass, Prewett, Rosier. Girls he’d grown up with and inadvertently had absolutely no interest in. 

Still, his mother was insistent so Regulus complied. He took the girls out on dates. The formula was rather simple: dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town followed by a walk around the city square in which he offered to buy his date a dessert like the proper gentleman his mother raised him to be. Despite the fact that Regulus had the entire process down to a science, the dates were always unsatisfactory. 

He was polite, of course. Opened the door, pulled out their chair, asked the appropriate level of questions to get to know his counterpart, but by the time the appetizers arrived, Regulus was on the verge of stabbing himself with the butter knife just to rouse himself from boredom. 

Regulus placed no blame on the girls. They were only doing what their families had raised them to do. Sit pretty, chew gracefully, agree with his opinions. All while wearing breakneck heels and a smile to boot. It was all terribly fucked up, but this was the world they lived in. 

The more he went on these dates, the more he realized that he didn’t want some pretty, docile wife. What he truly needed was someone who was willing to challenge him, to call him out on his bullshit, to argue with him when his own stubbornness prevented him from seeing reason. Regulus came to the horrible, earth-shattering realization that he probably wouldn’t find a woman like that on his mother’s list. 

As he walked back from another mind numbing date, Regulus grappled with this newfound dilemma. He didn’t want to endure another one of these disastrous dates. He didn’t want to sit through an entire meal making small talk. He definitely didn’t want to disappoint another girl by not kissing them at the end of the night. 

It wasn’t like any of them liked him anyways. Though they loved the idea of Regulus Black, he was quite certain that they wouldn’t afford the same affections to Reggie—the real and true version of himself. The one that Sirius often said Regulus kept in a neatly locked cage.

He wished he could be more like his brother. Sirius had always been the brave one. It was that infamous Gryffindor boldness that prompted his older brother to rebel against his family’s expectations. Instead of heeding to their mother’s ridiculous list, Sirius chose to date Remus in open defiance to Walburga’s orders. It resulted in him getting kicked out of 12 Grimmauld Place and burned off the family portrait, but Sirius didn’t seem to mind one bit.  

In a lot of ways, Regulus envied his brother. Sirius had the guts to stand up for himself. He wasn’t burdened by the crippling pressure of pleasing their mother. In all honesty, Reggie wondered if such a thing was even achievable. As he brooded, Regulus found himself on the shores of the Black Lake. His body had taken him here on autopilot. It was his only place of refuge in the castle. 

Regulus paced the rickety wooden dock. His mind was working so fast, so many thoughts spinning in his head, that it felt like he might work himself up to a fit. This has always been his problem. Sirius often said that he lived in his head too much. He frowned, trying and failing to get ahold of himself. For once, he wished he could just shut his brain off entirely.

Just then, Regulus felt a drop of water hit his head. He looked up and found dark, gray clouds hovering over the horizon. The stormcloud broke open and unleashed torrential rain all around him. Fucking fantastic. The world truly couldn’t give him a bloody break, could it? 

With a sigh, Regulus began making his way back. The ground was sodden underneath his feet, his boots sinking into the sand and dragging behind his black coat. The waves lapped violently across the shore as the wind lashed against the murky waters. Regulus was almost at the edge of the beach when he spotted you. 

A flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Regulus stopped dead in his tracks. There, at the mouth of the Black Lake, in the middle of the pouring rain, stood a girl with the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. 

Regulus was fairly certain that you had History of Magic together. He sat behind you in class, passed by you in the halls, even reached for the same book in the forbidden section of the library once, but Reggie had never once seen that smile. The gravity of it threatened to knock the very breath from his lungs. 

There was something carefree about you. The way you spread your arms, tilted your head back, and laughed in the midst of the rain and thunder. Almost like you were welcoming the storm. 

It was only when your eyes locked that Regulus realized he was staring. You cocked your head at him, trailing your gaze from the curls plastered against his cheek to the nice button down and freshly pressed trousers that were now soaked from the rain, down to the shiny leather boots that were now digging into the sand. You seemed amused at the sight of him.

Ever the perfect gentleman, Regulus snapped out of his daze and jogged over to you. Without hesitation, he raised his coat over your head to shield you from the rain even though you were already both drenched. 

“What are you doing out in the rain?” Regulus asked, his voice full of genuine concern. “You’ll catch a cold.” 

You stepped out of the refuge of his expensive looking coat and held your hand out, catching droplets in your palm. “I don’t mind. I just…I just needed to feel the rain on my skin, that’s all.”

You supposed it must’ve seemed strange to him, but the rain always made you feel better. Lately, life had been just a little too overwhelming. There was so much pressure to do well in classes, to hang out with friends while balancing your clubs and sports, as well as making time to write back to your parents. When it all became a bit too much, you tended to come to the Black Lake for some sort of refuge. The rain was just an added bonus. 

If Regulus found your behavior bizarre, he didn’t say. Instead, he just smiled softly. “Well, you got your wish. It’s soaked out here.” 

“I know,” you responded with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” 

“Standing out in the pouring rain? On a beach where lightning can strike me down at any second? Yes, it’s absolutely splendid.”

Your mouth quirked in amusement. “No one’s telling you to stay out here.” You nodded towards the castle. “You’re more than welcome to take your brooding inside where it’s warm and dry. Not to mention, free of the dangers of lightning strikes, which are extremely rare by the way.” 

“With my luck, I might be the poor one in a million git who gets torched while getting insulted by a pretty girl.” 

“Did I insult you?’ you quipped back. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You accused me of brooding.” 

“I didn’t accuse, I stated. Even the Wizengamot would have to rule that you were, in fact, brooding.” 

Regulus raised a brow. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?” 

“Unfortunately, the evidence is overwhelming and the verdict is set. You, Regulus Black, have been sentenced for glaring at the Black Lake so menacingly that even the giant squid refuses to come to shore. Off to Azkaban you go.” 

“Do you promise to write me letters? Update me of how the world’s progressed without my dazzling presence?” 

“It would be my genuine pleasure.” 

Regulus chuckled at your dry humor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bantered like this with anyone, much less with a strange not-so-stranger. You sat down on the wet sand and patted the spot beside you with a grin.

“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me all about your troubles.” 

Beyond the bleak horizon, the spires of the castle peeked through the gray clouds. Regulus thought of the common room where his housemates would no doubt be gathered around the ornate fireplace for warmth. Knowing his friends, they’d probably be indulging in spiked hot chocolate and playing some childish drinking game. A few minutes ago, nothing appealed to him more, but now Regulus found himself choosing the violent rain and soggy sand. All because of you, his mystery girl.

You leaned back on your elbows and cocked your head at him. “What ails you, Mr. Black?” 

“That depends. How much do you bill per hour?” 

“Fortunately for you, I’m in a generous mood so I’ll throw in a free session. Consider it my pro-bono work.” 

“How kind of you,” Regulus said with a serious expression. “My brother’s been nagging me to see a mind healer for years. All that childhood trauma, you know.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips, revealing a set of dimples that he found rather charming. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” 

“My brother is Sirius. I’m Regulus, remember?” 

You snorted in a very unladylike manner, which only made Regulus grin. There was something so unapologetically you in your laugh that was absolutely endearing to him. Regulus smiled and knocked his shoulder against yours. 

You mimicked the action and smiled back at him. “All sarcasm aside, I was being genuine. If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 

"Do you often offer therapy sessions to complete strangers?"

"Only to surly Slytherins with sad eyes and pretty curls," you quipped back. "And we're not strangers. I sit behind you in potions. We're practically best mates."

"You think my curls are pretty?"

"Like a little cherub's. Are you quite sure you haven't escaped from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? You look like one of Michelangelo's angels. Except with way more scowling." Regulus grinned. He got the feeling that you always said whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was refreshing. "There's a smile. See? Our session is already progressing."

"I think you might get more than you bargained for with me, I'm afraid."

You met the challenge in his words head on. "Try me."

“You were right. I’m definitely guilty of brooding.” 

“What happened?” 

Regulus hesitated for a moment. He had never been the type of person to be candid with his feelings, especially not with someone he barely knew. Usually, he just kept his thoughts to himself and ruminated on them in the privacy of his dorm until he drove himself mad by overthinking, but your presence brought him an unexplainable ease. For once in his life, Regulus chose not to question it. 

“I’ve had a long night,” he said, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I just got back from a date.” 

“It didn’t go well?” 

“It was…fine. It’s always fine. But it’s the same thing over and over again, just with a different girl.” 

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a playboy, Regulus Black.”

Regulus chuckled. “I’m not some unscrupulous rake, I assure you.” 

“Yes, that much is obvious from your use of the word unscrupulous.” You tucked your legs underneath you. “So why go on all of these dates if you find them so tedious?” 

“It’s my mother,” Regulus explained. “She has this list.” 

“A list?” 

“Yes, a list of girls that I’m to court. Noble, pureblooded, proper ladies of society that my mother has deemed worthy of marriage.” 

“You’re seventeen years old. Shouldn’t you be worrying about quidditch games and potions exams?” 

Regulus nodded. “Yes, one would think. But my family has always been different. Since my brother left, my parents have been obsessed with grooming me into becoming the perfect heir.” 

“How do you feel about that?” 

He sighed. “Stifled. Exhausted. Smothered. I can feel the weight of their expectations weighing me down every second of every day.” 

“I’m sorry, Regulus. That’s a terrible burden to carry.” 

Regulus shrugged. “Others have it worse.” 

“It doesn’t mean that your problem is any less heavy.” 

To Regulus, the acknowledgement felt oddly validating. Even though you knew nothing of his circumstance, there was wisdom in your words and you delivered it delicately, like you actually cared to hear his troubles. You were devoid of the judgment he'd grown accustomed to and he found that rather freeing.

“It’s just…sometimes I think that I’ll never be the perfect son. My brother, he’s always been the brave one. Classic Gryffindor,” he said with an eye roll. You chuckled, but stayed silent. It was obvious that Regulus had a myriad of thoughts to unpack tonight and you were more than happy to just listen. “Sirius has never cared what anyone thought about him, least of all our parents. I admire that about him, but I just don’t think I’m wired that way. I care too much.” 

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you said softly. “Apathy is so common nowadays, finding someone who can admit that they care is refreshing. Though, I think it’s not without limits. You can’t please everyone. No matter what you do, someone is going to have something to complain about. You might as well be yourself.” 

“That’s exactly the problem,” Regulus pondered. “All of these girls on my mother's list, I think they like the idea of Regulus Black, but he’s an illusion. It isn’t the real me.” 

“Then who is the real you?” 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m just Reggie. I like playing quidditch and reading depressing literature and memorizing obscure history facts. I hate messy rooms and orange juice and anything that crawls.”  

You smiled. “And what kind of girl does Reggie like?” 

“Someone witty. Someone funny. Someone who’ll argue with me. Someone who doesn’t just nod and agree with everything I say."

"So what you're saying is that you don't want a nice girl?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, I think I need someone who challenges me. Who sees me for who I am rather than what I represent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the girls on my mother’s list are lovely, but I don’t think they’d actually like me if they knew who I really am.” 

“I don’t know, Reggie seems like a great guy. That Regulus bloke, on the other hand…” you scrunched your nose in disapproval. 

“Hey!” Regulus chided, “I’m pouring my heart out to you. That took a lot of courage, you know.” 

“You’re very brave, Reggie,” you said with a grin. “But you know what would be even braver?” 

Regulus squinted in the rain as you stood to your feet. Lightning crackled over the horizon, illuminating you with an ethereal silver glow. You held out your hand to him. “Come dance with me.” 

“Deathly afraid of being struck by lightning, remember?” 

“Sorry, what?” You asked as you shimmied around him. It wasn’t graceful by any means. It was the goofiest thing he’d ever seen and yet he’d never been so enthralled. You danced without a care in the world and it made him genuinely laugh. “I can’t hear you over all the fun I’m having.” 

"This is ridiculous," he said over the roaring thunder.

You shrugged. "Perhaps. But everyone's allowed to be a little ridiculous sometimes. Besides, I was asking Reggie not Regulus."

“Are you really trying to peer pressure me into dancing with you?” 

“That depends,” you replied with a cheeky smile. “Is it working?” 

Regulus conceded with a sigh and leapt to his feet. The youngest Black brother bowed like a proper gentleman. “May I have this dance, my lady?"

“You may, good sir.” 

You grinned up at him as he took you by the waist and waltzed with you across the sand. Surprisingly, Regulus let you take the lead. He chuckled when you stepped on his toes and laughed even harder when you tried to twirl him. Towering a good foot over you, Regulus had to fully crouch for the maneuver to work. 

Finally, you gave up the formality and just spun around in dizzying circles. There was absolutely no rhyme or rhythm to it. Just two idiots dancing in the rain with the biggest smiles on their faces. 

Your coordination, or lack thereof, caused you to almost faceplant into the sand. Regulus yelped as you took him down with you. By the time you recovered from the laughing fit, the two of you were red-faced, out of breath, and laying side by side along the shore. He turned over to you and brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“That was the most fun I’ve had in years.” 

“See? There’s more to life than just being moody and melancholic.” 

“So this mystery girl of mine keeps reminding me,” Regulus said with a smile. “You never told me your name, by the way.” 

“Wow, you don’t even know my name? I’m offended, Reggie. We’ve only been in classes together since fifth year.” 

“I—we’ve never been introduced—” 

You broke out into a smile and giggled. You thought it was cute that Reggie was so easily flustered. “I’m just kidding, Reggie.” 

He sighed in relief as you stuck out your hand. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.” 

Regulus slipped his hand into yours. He cocked his head, studying your eyes and your smile and those cute little dimples. 

Y/N. The last name on his mother’s list. The one he saved for last because he didn’t know who she was. 

The French had a saying—le coup de foudre. The infamous phrase translated to a bolt of lightning or love at first sight. Regulus had long dismissed it as flowery prose, but thanks to his mystery girl, he started to think that maybe the Parisians were onto something because meeting you tonight felt preordained. A date with fate. Like a bolt of lightning streaking through his dark, endless skies.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

You grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Reggie.” 

Regulus smiled and laced your fingers together. He was frozen, it was raining, and he was fairly certain that you were both probably going to catch a cold, but he didn’t care. In that moment, as he stared up at the sky, blinking back the rain, and intertwining his fingers with yours, Regulus had never felt more content. 

So no, Regulus did not believe in love at first sight, but love at second, third, and even fourth glance? He smiled a little as he gazed back at you, letting his gaze linger as he drank in that infectious laugh and sunny grin. 

You made him think that maybe, just maybe, a girl like you could convert a skeptic like him into a devout believer.

[archivequinn]

Freedom ⚔ emperor geta x fem!reader

Summary: You are a servant of Emperor Geta and one night Geta asks you to do more than a servant. ao3 link Words: 6,093 Warnings: SMUT. SMUT IT'S SMUT SO MINORS GO AWAY. +18 oral sex, public sex, little bit dirty talk and whatever, unprotected sex, cumming inside. credits for dividers: @strangergraphics

This is my first time trying smut so I apologise if it was bad, my first language is not English so I apologise for any translation mistakes! If you like it, you can support me by RBing so that I can have a bigger audience. I hope you enjoy reading it. 🧡

When you step into Emperor Geta’s chamber, an icy cold hits your face, like the breath of a tomb. It feels as though Emperor Geta’s invisible eyes are watching you from between the walls.

In the center of the room stands a bed, rising like a throne, draped with a perfectly laid dark red velvet cover that declares its dominance. The patterns embroidered with golden threads shimmer like flames, but even daring to examine them up close requires courage. Seeing a wrinkle on those covers would be a crime inviting the Emperor’s wrath.

You silently place the basket in your hand into a corner. On the table sits a half-finished wine goblet. Beside it, there’s a plate with dried fruit remnants—it’s clear that Geta left in a hurry. As you tidy the table, your hand trembles while holding the goblet, because if it were to fall, it would be a harbinger of the disasters to come.

The moonlight streaming through the window falls on the columns next to the bed. The curtain sways slightly, and even this small motion breaks the silence enough to make you flinch.

You think Geta is ready to spend the night here now. Every corner has been straightened, every speck of dust wiped away, and everything is exactly as it should be—because if it’s not, Geta’s madness will find you with the first light of day. You take one last look at the bed’s cover, ensuring it’s perfectly smooth, and then check the table.

With trembling hands, you lift the wine decanter. Made of silver with delicate engravings, the decanter glimmers like a blade in the moonlight. If Emperor Geta decides to drink suddenly during the night, his goblet must always be ready. You’ve heard this rule countless times, and you know all too well how severe the consequences can be if you forget even once.

You tilt the decanter gently and begin pouring wine into the goblet. The thick, dark red liquid flows slowly into the glass, filling the room with a faint scent of wine. At that moment, in a fleeting lapse of attention, your hand slips from the decanter’s handle. For a brief instant, the decanter seems to float in the air before crashing to the ground like a lightning bolt meeting the earth. A sharp ringing echoes off the walls of the chamber.

The wine spreads rapidly across the marble floor like a bloodstain. That dreadful red seeps outward with a mercilessness that rivals the covers on Geta’s bed. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart pounds as if it might burst out of your chest. For a moment, you’re frozen in place, as though any movement might magnify the horror of your mistake.

Geta must not see this. Absolutely must not!

You drop to your knees and frantically try to wipe the wine with your hands. Your fingers slide helplessly across the slippery marble, the crimson red staining your skin. Your breath grows uneven, sweat drips from your forehead into your eyes, but you can think of nothing else except cleaning the spill. You begin wiping the floor with the hem of your dress, desperate and panicked.

Just then, the ominous creak of the door’s hinges freezes your entire body. The door swings wide open, and Emperor Geta storms in like a raging wind. The moonlight illuminates one side of his face, while the other vanishes into darkness.

His eyes dart immediately to the ground, to the shattered decanter and the wine stain that looks like blood.

For a moment, your gaze locks on his crazed eyes, glowing in the moonlight. The corner of his lips twitches upward—it resembles a smile, but there is no warmth in it—only menace.

“Do you have something to explain to me?” he asks, leaning down toward you, his voice dropping to a whisper.

In that instant, even breathing feels impossible. Your arms fall limply to your sides, and you’re frozen, unsure of what Geta might do as the wine stain continues to spread across the cold marble.

“Please, forgive me… My Emperor. I… it was an accident,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you sink to your knees. Bowing your head to the floor, you cover the wine stain, as though you could erase your shame along with it. You clasp your hands together, bowing before him in a pleading posture. Your heart pounds mercilessly in your chest; the knowledge that a single word from him could seal your fate makes it hard to breathe.

“Stand up,” he says in a tired, deep voice. Not out of anger, but more out of exasperation. “I don’t have the energy to deal with you today. Clean it up and leave the room.”

His words carry the weight of a command, yet they lack his usual fury. His hair is slightly disheveled, and the faint shadows under his eyes reveal how exhausted he is.

“Yes, my Emperor. At once,” you reply, springing into action. Though your movements are clumsy, your trembling hands continue wiping the wine with the hem of your dress. As the stain on the marble floor slowly fades, Emperor Geta walks heavily toward his bed.

For a moment, you find yourself staring at his leather sandals and the fine silk fabric clinging to his frame.

Suddenly, Geta stops and begins to undress.

You hold your breath, lower your head, and focus on the remnants of the wine as if those stains were the most important task in the world. But the soft sound of his silk tunic falling to the floor causes your eyes to involuntarily shift toward him.

Geta had discarded the tunic, and under the moonlight, the breadth of his shoulders and the definition of his muscles resembled that of a Greek statue. His shoulders, the contours of his back… they seemed like a flawless work of art, delicately crafted by a master sculptor.

This magnificent man, whose name traveled on the tongues of everyone in the palace, always made you scoff. “You admire that madman? You must be out of your mind,” you’d think to yourself. Yet now, as you tried not to look at him, you couldn’t explain why your heart was racing so fast.

You swallow hard and lower your gaze back to the ground. The wine stain is completely gone. Quickly, you stand and place the shards of the decanter into the basket. “Forgive me, my Emperor. With your permission, I’ll take my leave,” you say, bowing your head and moving toward the door.

But just as you reach it, you hear a voice behind you.

“Wait.”

You freeze. Your eyes remain fixed on the wooden surface of the door. “Yes, my Emperor?”

“You forgot to extinguish the candle on the table,” Geta says, his tone sharper now but still tinged with fatigue.

“My apologies, I’ll do it immediately.”

You are forced to turn back. Without lifting your eyes from the ground, you walk toward the table beside the bed. As you lean forward to extinguish the candle, you can feel Geta’s presence looming above you; he’s lying on the bed, but it feels as though he’s still watching you. Your hands tremble as you hastily snuff out the candles.

“Tell me something. I can’t sleep.”

You raise your head slightly, looking at him in surprise. Is he joking, or is this some kind of game? There’s a glimmer in his eyes—tired but still menacing.

“What would you like me to tell, my lord?” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Geta, reclining on the bed with his back propped against the pillows and one arm lazily stretched out to the side, speaks with a faint smile on his lips. “I don’t care. Tell me a tale, a story. But don’t be boring, not until I’m asleep.”

The subtle threat in his words seeps into your very core. Even as your knees still tremble, you find yourself standing in the middle of the room—before him, less like a servant and more like a prisoner. You clench your hands, clear your throat, and begin to speak about the first thing that comes to mind—your village. At that moment, you struggle to string your words together, avoiding Geta’s gaze.

“I… I come from a small village west of Tarentum, my lord,” you say. The words spill out slowly, your voice low but trying to remain steady. “There, my father was a farmer. Our land was small, but it was fertile. Every spring, the plains would turn green; the air would smell of lavender everywhere. At sunset, the light would shimmer over the fields like golden dust, and at night, the sky was full of stars. My mother… she used to weave small tapestries at home with my siblings…”

You pause for a moment, swallowing hard as the warmth of the memories washes over you. But Geta’s impatient voice snaps you back to reality. “And then?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, one eyebrow raised.

Your eyes drop to the floor, your breath tightening as if you’re reliving it all over again. “Then… then your armies came. At first, we saw the smoke. Rising over the forest, from the other side of the village. My mother told us to run, but it was too late. The soldiers… they set everything on fire. My siblings… they got lost in the chaos. My father tried to fight, but…”

The words catch in your throat. You clench your hand into a fist, taking a deep breath. “Then they found me. A soldier grabbed me by the hair and dragged me away. Since that day, I’ve been here, serving in the palace.”

Your words hang in the air, heavy, as a cold silence settles over the room. The final images of your village flash through your mind—the smoke, the screams, the scent of scorched earth. But Geta’s face betrays not the faintest hint of emotion. Instead, his eyes travel over you, scanning you from head to toe.

“So, a farmer’s daughter,” he says, his voice carrying a mocking undertone. “From lavender-scented fields to cleaning my chambers. What a charming story…”

The ridicule in his words cuts into your heart like a sharp blade, but you remain silent. In moments like these, silence is survival. And yet, you notice how the pain your story stirs within you has captured Geta’s attention. Perhaps some fragment of it has touched something deep within his deranged mind—or perhaps he’s merely found his entertainment for the evening.

The deep silence of the room swells, spreading like the shadows on the walls. Geta slowly turns his head, fixing his gaze on you. At first, you think you’re only imagining his eyes on you, but when your eyes meet his, you’re certain—he’s truly watching you.

“Well…” he says, his voice drowsy but tinged with a faint curiosity. “There was someone in your village, wasn’t there? Someone who made your heart race?”

The question catches you off guard. Your face flushes as you lower your gaze to the floor, clasping your hands tightly in your lap. “No, my Emperor. There was no one,” you reply softly.

Geta’s eyebrows draw together slightly, as if your answer wasn’t what he expected. Resting his head against the pillow, his gaze shifts to the ceiling, and his tone takes on a contemplative edge.

“Love…” he repeats, as though savoring the word. “Sometimes I wonder if it truly exists. Poems are written, wars are fought. But I…” He pauses, his gaze shifting back to you.

The exhaustion in his eyes deepens, giving way to a profound emptiness. “…I’ve never felt it. Not once.”

You swallow hard. For an emperor—especially one as cruel and mad as Geta—to make such an intimate confession feels almost unreal. For the first time, his face seems open, vulnerable, as though a part of his mask has slipped.

You want to say something, but the words stick in your throat. For a fleeting moment, your heart swells with an odd sense of compassion for him. The fear inside you gives way to what might be the one thing Geta needs most in that moment—understanding. But you are only a servant. How much right do you have to speak?

"What do you think?" he asks suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts once again. "Does love exist? Or is it just a fairy tale?"

You don’t know how to answer. "Your Majesty, I…" you whisper, but the words hang in the air. He has already turned his gaze away from you and back to the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, he narrows his eyes, his fingers tracing along the edge of the pillow.

"It must be a fairy tale," he mutters to himself. "Too absurd and hollow to be real."

As your heart continues to race, the words slip from your lips almost on their own, "I’ve never been in love, Your Majesty. But I believe true love exists."

The moment your words fill the room, a faint look of surprise crosses Geta’s face. You expect him to make a mocking remark, but he doesn’t. His eyes fix on you, as if trying to understand what you mean.

"True love?" he repeats, his voice both curious and skeptical. "What does that even mean?"

"I don’t know. But it must be something that stirs your heart, fills you up, and makes you forget the emptiness," you say softly but with conviction. "Like believing without seeing. You can’t hold it in your hands, you can’t see it with your eyes, but you feel it. A glance at your eyes, a touch in your voice is enough. It makes you forget your fears, it completes you."

Geta remains silent for a while, as though he’s absorbing your words. The tired expression on his face gives way to deeper contemplation.

"That has never happened to me," he says finally, his tone softened. "I’ve seen hundreds of people. I’ve taken what I wanted. There were even those who claimed to love me—or so they said. But… something inside me has always been missing. Always."

Could the emptiness within a man who has lived like a king be the despair of someone who has never truly chosen anything in his life?

"Perhaps what you’re looking for is still waiting for you, Your Majesty," you say quietly.

"Leave," he says at last. "But come back early in the morning. I want to… talk more."

Bowing your head, you quickly make your way out of the room.

As the first light of morning strikes the stone walls of the palace, you carefully prepare the table in Geta's chamber. Silver trays, gold-embellished plates, and food still steaming… Everything must be perfect. Your heart is still racing from the strange conversation you had last night. Perhaps you had dreamed it all; how could an emperor speak so candidly with a servant?

Lost in thought, you suddenly hear Geta’s voice. “You’re so quiet. Are you that happy to see me this morning?”

You quickly turn your head. Geta is standing by the door, the long fabric of his robe elegantly draped around his body as he watches you. Behind his cold gaze is that familiar weariness, but there’s also a faint smile at the corner of his lips.

“Your Majesty…” you begin, but you falter, unsure of what to say.

Geta walks slowly toward the table and pulls out a chair before sitting down. Gesturing toward you, he speaks. “Set those trays down and sit.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, your heart nearly stopping. “I—”

“That was an order,” he interrupts, his tone still gentle but carrying an authority that leaves no room for argument. “Sit at the table.”

Wiping your trembling hands on the folds of your apron, you slowly take a seat at the table, though perched on the edge of the chair, ready to rise at any moment. Noticing your hesitance, Geta raises his eyebrows and shakes his head slightly.

“This trembling of yours is starting to annoy me,” he says with a hint of mockery. Then, taking a piece of fruit from his plate, he pops it into his mouth. “Keep talking. What you said last night was interesting. Tell me about your village.”

You swallow hard. The situation feels so strange that you almost forget how to form words. But Geta’s gaze remains fixed on you, filled with an impatience to learn more.

“My village…” you begin hesitantly. “Everything was simpler there. Our small houses, our fields… But I miss the horses the most, Your Majesty. Riding them along the edge of the fields in the morning… I was free then.”

“Free.” Geta repeats, as though hearing the word for the first time. He leans back slightly in his chair, resting his chin on his hand. “Riding? Is that what it feels like?”

A smile spreads across your lips, a warmth you haven’t felt in years lighting up your face. “Yes, Your Majesty. When you’re on a horse… the wind whips through your hair, the world shrinks. It’s like… your chains disappear. It’s just you and the wind.”

Geta watches you in silence for a moment. The emptiness in his eyes seems to fill slightly; he appears to truly be trying to understand what you’re describing. Then, unexpectedly, he smiles—a small, almost imperceptible smile.

“I wish I could feel this ‘freedom,’” he says thoughtfully. “I’ve ridden horses many times, but I’ve never felt that way.”

He picks up a piece of bread, extends his arm to the edge of the table, and pushes it toward you. “Eat,” he says simply. “You look hungry.”

“Your Majesty, I can’t. I…”

“This morning, the rules are subject to my whims,” he interrupts again, his gaze hardening slightly. “And I want to have breakfast with you.”

Reluctantly, you take a piece of bread and begin eating slowly. Geta watches your movements intently, as though even this simple act fascinates him.

“You know,” he says after a while, his tone softening. “Everyone in this palace… they’re all the same. Artificial voices, fake smiles… Even their mediocrity is false. But you…”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours as he continues. “You’re interesting. Your village, your stories, your belief in freedom… Ordinary yet sincere. And for the first time, I think I like that.”

It’s impossible to describe how strange you feel. Yet at the same time, you grasp the truth behind Geta’s words—his loneliness, the pieces of humanity still hidden somewhere deep within him. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” you whisper. You can’t say anything more because even the slightest word would shatter the magic of this moment.

As you clean the table, your mind remains caught on Geta’s words. Why would an emperor like him find an ordinary servant interesting? And why would he openly admit it? These thoughts swirl in your mind as you notice Geta leaving the room. The echo of his footsteps, the heavy door closing behind him… You’re left standing there in silence.

A few hours pass. The morning’s conversation is almost forgotten amidst the palace’s bustling daily routine—until another servant rushes in, out of breath, and says, “Emperor Geta is waiting for you in the back garden.”

The garden? And with you? Why? No explanation is given; only the command is to be obeyed. With sweaty palms and your head lowered, you follow the order.

When you arrive at the garden, the sight before you surprises you once again. Two horses, meticulously prepared, stand waiting. Geta is beneath the shade of a tree, hands clasped behind his back, impatiently looking at the ground. When he notices you, he lifts his head, and for a moment, the stern expression on his face softens. “Come,” he says, beckoning you with his hand. “You said you missed the horses, didn’t you?” “Your Majesty, but…” you murmur, your breath catching. “I… I haven’t ridden in years. Is this… proper?” Geta approaches you with a slight smile and places a hand on your shoulder. “When you’re with me, everything is proper. Now, stop making excuses and get on the horse.”

You hesitate as you approach the horse. Your hand brushes against the cold leather of the saddle. It doesn’t feel natural, as it did when you were a child. But Geta watches you patiently. Finally, with a trembling breath, you climb onto the horse. Geta steadies you with a firm grip around your waist, ensuring you’re secure before swiftly mounting his own horse with practiced ease.

The movement of the horse creates a brief moment of tension in you, but as the steps smooth out, your body adjusts to the rhythm. Something you had almost forgotten begins to resurface: the touch of the wind on your face, the freedom within the gentle trot. Your eyes well up involuntarily.

Guiding his horse skillfully, Geta rides closer to you. “See? You haven’t forgotten how to ride,” he says. His voice seems stripped of its usual arrogance, replaced with admiration and curiosity. “No, I haven’t forgotten,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ve missed this feeling so much…”

Geta remains silent for a while, as though he’s sharing the same feeling, though he’d never admit it. He orders the guards trailing behind you to stop. Now it’s just the two of you, heading toward the depths of the woods in the back garden.

Geta approaches the horse you’re riding. He halts his own horse beside yours and, without warning, pulls himself up onto yours, giving you no time to turn and look at him. His hands grip your waist firmly as he whispers, “Let go of the reins. I’m steering now.”

Your heart begins to race. Feeling his strong arms around your waist, the warmth of his breath brushing against your neck… No matter how much you try to relax, your body tenses. “Calm down,” he says in an almost teasing tone. “I won’t let you fall.”

As the horse quickens its pace, you feel Geta’s hold tighten. His grip is firm but reassuring. The space between you has completely disappeared. For a moment, you sense the rhythm of his breathing aligning with the beat of your heart.

After a while, Geta pulls the reins, slowing the horse to a stop. “You see?” he says, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “Stop tensing up,” he murmurs.

In that instant, you catch a sincere spark in Geta’s gaze—a spark that seems to beg you to see him not as an emperor, but as a person.

With the reins back in his hands, the horse’s movements return to a steady rhythm. Having the Emperor this close to you, feeling his breath on your neck, is utterly overwhelming.

“Calm down,” he whispers again. But instead of soothing you, it has the opposite effect. Calm down? That’s impossible. Because Geta’s presence seeps into you, breaking through the palace walls and settling deep within.

For a while, you ride in silence. The horse’s gentle rhythm, the sound of hooves hitting the ground, creates a melody of its own. But the silence is broken when Geta leans closer to your shoulder, almost pressing his lips to your skin. “May I ask you something?” he says, his voice low, almost intimate. “Of course, Your Majesty…” you murmur, your voice trembling. “You said you truly believe in love. Do you know where to find it?”

This was not the question you were expecting. For a moment, you don't know what words to choose. But with Geta's hands holding you tightly and the sense of security created by being this close to him, you gather your courage. "Yes," you finally say. "I believe it's real. But maybe... it can only be found rarely." Before you know it, Geta pulls on the reins to stop the horse, and you feel as though all time in the world has halted. The rhythmic breathing of the horse envelops your lightly swaying bodies. Geta slowly leans in, his head passing by your shoulder, his chin nearly resting against it. "Turn to me," he whispers. There is something beyond a command in his voice—a fragile yet passionate call, an invitation of desire. You turn slowly, your body trembling slightly. Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, both of your breaths catch. "Your ordinariness… it's far more beautiful than I thought," he says in a low voice. And with those words, he brings his lips closer to yours. The first touch is light and cautious, as if he's afraid of breaking the magic of the moment. As one hand gently brushes against your back, his other hand touches beneath your chin, drawing you closer. The warmth between his lips makes you forget the chill of the wind. As you feel his breath and the weight of his touch, time seems to come to a complete standstill. Your heartbeat quickens, but you realize it's not from fear—it's from a sudden, unexplainable pull toward Geta. When your lips part, he tilts his head slightly and rests his forehead against yours. "This… this is what I wanted to feel," he says in a low voice, almost as if speaking to himself. And then, again. As Geta's lips meet yours once more, all the sounds and movements of the world seem to disappear in an instant. The horse's slow, steady breaths, the soft rustling of the wind, the distant chirping of birds... all of it fades into the background. His lips move gently and carefully, as if he’s trying to savor the moment and explore you at the same time. The hands on your waist act as an anchor, pulling you even closer to him as if ensuring you won’t fall. The pressure of his fingers is light yet commanding; it both supports and completely possesses you. At first, you are lost in the magic of the moment, but then Geta takes the kiss a step further. When he slightly parts his lips, his warm breath grazes yours, and you feel the delicate, inviting touch of his tongue against your lips. The sensation spreads through your body like an electric current. When you respond, the kiss becomes deeper and more intense. The movement of his tongue is slow yet passionate, as though he’s exploring you with every motion, wanting to fully claim the moment. The taste of Geta's lips… how does an emperor taste? For a fleeting moment, you notice the subtle traces of wine and spices on his lips; at the same time, the flavor seems to reflect his dual nature—both noble and wild. But instead of unsettling you, this combination draws you in further. His fingers settle lightly just above the curve of your hips, holding you with a gentle firmness that reminds you of his control. You can feel the faint press of his chest against yours, and your heartbeat begins to synchronize with the accelerated rhythm of his. The movements of his tongue grow bolder, more fervent, as if he doesn’t just want to feel you but conquer you entirely. The mingling of your breaths during the kiss creates a sensation that is both soothing and maddening all at once.

As you and him ride the horse deeper into the forest, the trees seem to close in around you, their leaves whispering secrets only known to lovers. Geta's hands tighten around your waist as he pulls you closer, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that can no longer be denied. The horse snorts softly beneath you as you dismount together.

Geta lifts you off the saddle and sets you down on the soft grass beside the lake. He gazes at your blushed face for a moment before his mouth descends upon yours once more. His tongue dances as he slowly works his way down your neck, leaving trails of kisses that make you shiver.

His teeth graze against the tender skin of your throat, sending shivers down your spine. He sucks gently, his mouth hot and demanding. His hands roam over your legs, tracing the curves of your thighs with a gentle touch that belies the passion burning within him.

As Geta's hands continue to explore your body, you can't help but feel a growing sense of desire. His fingers dance across your legs, tracing the curves of your thighs with a gentle touch. He pauses at the waistband of your dress, his fingertips grazing against the soft fabric as he pulls it upwards.

His mouth never leaves your neck as he sucks gently on it, his tongue strokes and nips at the tender skin. Your core burns with an intense longing for more.

Geta's hand slips beneath the hem of your dress, his palm pressing against the warmth between your legs. You gasp softly into his mouth as he begins to stroke you through the fabric of your panties. His fingers move in a slow, deliberate rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your desire for him growing with every passing moment. His touch sends sparks flying through your veins.

As Geta's fingers deftly undoes your dress, you feel a thrill of anticipation run through your body. He pushes the fabric aside, revealing the curves of your breasts to his eager gaze.

His mouth descends upon one of your nipples, sucking it gently. You gasp softly as he begins to lick and flick at it with his tongue. His fingers knead at the other breast, rolling and pinching it gently as he continues to lavish attention on the other one. 

Geta's mouth moves from one breast to the other, his lips and tongue working in tandem to drive you wild. He sucks your nipples hard, making them pucker and stiffen with desire. His teeth graze against them, sending shivers down your spine as he bites gently.

As he works his way around your chest, Geta's hand dips lower, slipping beneath the hem of your dress once more. This time, however, it's not just for show - he slides a finger beneath the fabric of your panties, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

You're wet and ready for him, and he knows it. His finger strokes against your pussy, gathering the moisture that's pooling there before sliding back up to tease you once more. 

Geta's fingers continue to stroke against your pussy, teasing you mercilessly as he works his way down your body. 

Finally, he dips lower still, his mouth closing over your pussy like a warm blanket. His tongue darts in and out of you, stroking against your inner walls.

You're powerless to resist the sensation of his mouth on you. Geta's tongue strokes and laps at you with a slow, deliberate rhythm that makes you feel like you're melting into his mouth. As he eats at you, Geta's hands move up to cup your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to his mouth as he devours you. You can feel yourself getting hotter by the second, your desire for him reaching a fever pitch.

As he eats at you, Geta's hands move up to cup your ass cheeks, pressing you closer to his mouth as he devours you. You can feel yourself getting hotter by the second, your desire for him reaching a fever pitch.

Geta's tongue moves in and out of you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, stroking against your inner walls. He uses his nose to rub against your swollen bud, creating a sensation that's both gentle and intense.

He begins to move faster and more furiously, as if trying to drive you wild. He uses it like a fuckin' tool, plunging it deep into your pussy and then withdrawing it slowly before repeating the motion.

Your body is trembling with anticipation as he continues to devour you.

Suddenly, Geta adds his fingers to the mix. He inserts two fingers into your pussy alongside his tongue, his thumb rubbing against your clit as he continues to eat at you.

The sensation is overwhelming - it's like nothing you've ever experienced before. You're powerless to resist the pleasure that's building inside of you, and you know that it won't be long before you come.

Finally, with a gentle pressure on your clit, Geta's fingers bring you over the edge. You cum hard and fast, your body trembling with pleasure.

As you're still recovering from the intensity of your orgasm, Geta turns you around gently but firmly. He bends you over, his hands grasping at your hips as he pulls them towards him.

With a swift motion, he takes off his clothes. His cock springs free from its confines, standing tall and proud as he leans against you.

You can feel his hardness pressing against your back, and Geta's hands move up to stroke himself.

"My God," he whispers into your ear. "Your body is perfect for me, just like I guessed it would be."

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he begins to slide slowly inside of you.

"You're so tight," he breathes.

He pauses for a moment, his cock buried deep within you. You feel yourself relaxing around him, accommodating his size and shape with ease.

"I'm going to make this last forever," he whispers. "I want to savor every moment with you."

With that, Geta begins to move faster and more urgently, his hips pumping in and out of you in a slow but deliberate rhythm. His fingers are between your legs now, rubbing circles around your clit with a gentle pressure. Geta's other hand is cupping one of your breasts, squeezing and releasing it with each thrust. His thumb brushes against your nipple, sending sparks through every cell in your body.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes. "I love how you respond to me."

As he picks up speed, his words become more urgent and passionate. You can feel him getting closer and closer to orgasm, his cock throbbing with desire as he continues to pump in and out of you.

He leans in to kiss you deeply. His lips are soft and gentle, but his tongue is insistent as it explores your mouth. You can feel him inhaling your scent, drinking in the aroma of your skin.

Despite his best efforts to be gentle, you can sense that he's on the edge of pleasure. His cock throbs with desire as he continues to move inside of you.

"May I cum inside?" he whispers against your ear. "Please?"

You nod silently, unable to speak through the intensity of the moment. 

With a final thrust, he comes deep within you. You feel his cock pulsing with release as he empties himself into your pussy.

As he comes, you feel your own body responding. Your pussy tightens around his cock as you come hard and fast, the pleasure building to a crescendo.

Together, you ride out the wave of pleasure, your bodies trembling with release as you cum together in perfect sync.

Geta turns to you, gently wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. The warmth of his body envelops you so strongly that it almost makes you feel safe, and you struggle to steady your breathing. "Look at that," he murmurs, tilting his head toward the sky. "I watch this every day. The sun sets, the stars come out. Yet... it feels like this view has meaning for the first time." He takes a deep breath, as if trying to suppress the adrenaline still coursing through him. "You know," he continues, turning his head slightly to lock eyes with you. "I've tasted power my entire life. Palaces, armies, victories... But I never understood what freedom feels like. And that absence has always suffocated me." He holds you tighter, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips. "But now... Here with you... For the first time, I can feel what freedom is. It's like... the world belongs only to the two of us." For a while, neither of you speaks, simply breathing together. As the sky fades into complete darkness and the stars emerge, Geta's arms wrap around you like a shield. In that moment, there is only him. Just Geta and you. The rest of the world feels distant, its voice silenced. Maybe neither of you wants to end this moment. Maybe you both know this infinity, this freedom, is too beautiful to be real. But in this moment, you belong to no one and nothing. Only to each other.

taglist: @userchai @runningupthatvecna @multyfangirl @scarletwolfxox @mylittlepimp @25bohemianmoons @nicholaschavezslut69

[remlionheart]

up against the wall

୨ৎ MDNI. this is the first fic i've really posted that's come with a caution sign, but dark content ahead, you have been warned ♡ this was originally an oc x dazai but i converted into dazai x fem!reader for all of you who wanted to read it ♡ a bit yandere on both dazai and reader's part. full submission. degradation and praise. gunplay. dom!dazai ((fucking yum)). lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡୨ৎ

take me, take me back to your bed i love you so much that it hurts my head. say I don't mind you under my skin i'll let the bad parts in, the bad parts in... ─★ now playing: degausser

You had always known what and who Osamu Dazai was. The parts of him that he’d given you and the parts of him that he tried to hide– they were both engrained into your mind. Clawed and carved into your heart no matter how much he attempted to conceal off pieces of himself that he didn’t want you to have access to.

He'd learned pretty early on in your relationship that there was no such thing as avoiding you, not just because of your Mind Glimpse, but because of who you were as a person. The sheer lengths that you'd go just to get to him were hopeless and absolutely devoid of all logic. 

At 16, you'd tattooed his initial on your forearm when Mori tried to put an end to your relationship. Nearly killed yourself a couple of years later when you somehow managed to teleport all the way from Port Mafia to his apartment, collapsing in his living room from overusing your ability all because he wouldn't answer your calls. There was no obstacle or barrier strong enough to stop you from gravitating towards him the way you did and the worst part was, Osamu... liked your earth-shattering devotion to him.

He'd never experienced love before and he'd certainly never experienced… whatever it was between the two of you before either, but there was something about your raw and unapologetic honesty that captivated him. He’d spent so much of his life being conditioned to lie and manipulate to get others to bend to his will and yet, you... would happily break yourself for him just because.

You'd do anything, really. Any request, no matter the cost. Any command, no matter the risk. Any hoop, no matter the height– you'd always find a way, finishing the task with with wide eyes and a smile. “Like that? Was that good?” You might as well have been a puppy with how you obeyed him so thoroughly. It was equal parts amusing and… something else entirely. Something that Dazai wasn't quite ready to face.  

The nickname “little ghost” that he'd gifted you expanded well beyond your ability to vanish, it rang true in all aspects of your relationship. You were his shadow. His mirror. Your curiosity just as relentless and unwavering as his own. Your determination and shamelessness just as dangerous when it came to getting the things you wanted and he was always the thing you wanted most.

You saw him, even when he didn’t think you did. Not just the flippant exterior that he presented to the outside world. Not the hollow cut-out version of himself that he used to blend into crowds. No, you saw him– the full scope of who he was and who he pretended not to be, and you still clung onto him like your life depended on it. Craved him. Haunted him. Trusted him. And worst of all, loved him. Really, sincerely, desperately loved him.

In your first year at Port Mafia, Dazai had written you off as entertainment. A fun, fragile little toy that he could pick up and dissect whenever he got bored and he got bored a lot. But you were happy to oblige, often catching him off guard with how excitedly you would offer parts of yourself up to him without him even having to ask.

You were an enigma in your own right. Something he’d never really seen before. So starved for attention but so infuriatingly stubborn when it came to letting yourself receive it. So obsessed with the idea of love but so tragically clueless when it came to actually being able to identify it. So in-tune with the emotions of everyone else around you but so completely unaware of your own. You were dangerous– Mori’s worst migraine and Dazai’s best asset with the way your ability would spiral out of control when your feelings became too much for you to bear.

Dazai was hardly solid, made up of nothing more than loose-leaf ideas and questionable personality traits that he’d stolen from others and pieced together for himself over the years. But to you, he was so much more. He was the very foundation beneath your feet, the gravity that kept you standing and upright most days, never letting you float too far into your mind. He was the only thing that could stabilize you and not just from his nullification, but from simply being there. As Chuuya had pointed out so many times, the two of you were “a match made in hell”, but you both seemed to find more comfort than threat in the flames you created together.  

Four years ago, if you would’ve asked Dazai how it happened– how your relationship with him had morphed into something that bared such an eerie resemblance to that of trust and understanding, he would’ve dismissed it, but now…

His eyes narrowed, amusement flickering across his face as you circled him in your makeshift training room. “Careful. I told you I’m not gonna let you win this time.”

A spark of silver and blue electricity cracked into the air, your small frame vanishing from where you had been standing across from him, only to reappear right beside him. Your breath hot and tantalizing against the shell of his ear, “Be rough with me then, I can take it.” The smile in your voice was palpable and then– gone.

Now… there was no denying how much he loved chasing and breaking you, his favorite little toy.

He let you have your fun for a few more minutes, folding his arms over his chest with a smirk as you teleported across the abandoned warehouse with precision, pressing soft kisses against his cheek before disappearing into a snap of iridescent energy.

You hid behind a crate, concentrating as your gaze locked onto one of the heavy industrial light fixtures before pulling it down from the rafters, letting it crash next to where Dazai was standing.

"Wow," he mused, giving you a fake clap. "Had I been 12 feet closer, you might've actually gotten me."

He didn't have to know where you were hiding to know that he'd struck a nerve, a smaller lightbulb bursting in one of the overhead lights indicated that you heard him.

"Come here," he said, his voice softening a bit as he rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight. He barely had to side-step to dodge the tire that had been hurled his way. Your emotions were erratic but always predictable.

"Baby, c'mon. It's not my fault you have terrible aim. That's why we're here anyway, remember?"

There was a crackle of energy, another flash of steel blue before you finally reappeared in front of him, a pout that he was all-too familiar with looking back at him.

He bit back a laugh watching you sink into yourself.

"Look, it's about focus, okay?" His tone transitioned into something more serious as he took a slow step towards you. "As long as Mori sees you as his own personal project, I need you to be prepared for anything. You're gonna start getting sent on higher ranking missions sooner than later and I need to know that you're ready for that."

There was something about the way he said it– about the genuine concern coating his words that made your chest tighten.

You let your eyes meet his again as you nodded. "Okay," you breathed, the bratty rebuttal you had lined up promptly dying on the tip of your tongue as you took in his features. "What do you want me to do?"

"Teleport to me, we're going to go over intuition and reflexes."

You drew in a sharp breath before closing your eyes, electricity dancing along your skin as you accidentally snapped yourself directly in front of him so that you were chest to chest.

"Surely you wouldn't get this close to an enemy," he smirked, "but for argument's sake, let's say you did. Let's say you landed right in front of them, just like this and they –"

Without any time to think, Dazai had already reached into the inside of his coat pocket, the cold metal of his Beretta suddenly resting easily against your temple. “What now?” He whispered, looking down at you with provoking curiosity. "What are your instincts telling you to do?"

It wasn't the first time you'd had a gun drawn on you, but it was definitely the first time you'd had a gun drawn on you this... intimately. Your body betrayed you, displaced warmth migrating to your cheeks as you blinked back at him through heavy lashes. Your instincts were certainly there, they were just... all wrong.

Dazai caught your reaction immediately, the fleeting but unmistakable flicker of lust that washed over you.

"Oh?" He quipped, leaning down while pressing the barrel further into your delicate skin. "What’s this, huh?" His stare was equal parts predatory and incredulous as his eyes trailed over you, zeroing in on every small, subtle shift you made. The way your breathing had slowed, the goosebumps that decorated your arms, the way your hips couldn't help but tilt towards his ever-so slightly. "You like it, don't you? Like the way it feels when your life’s in my hands?”

"No, I'm–" You faltered, your words completely stolen by the knowing smirk that had cut across his face. "I'm just– thinking, is all."

"Thinking” he echoed, his other hand gently cradling your jawline as he forced you to keep your eyes locked with his. “And what exactly are you thinking about? Please, enlighten me.”

You had to bite back a smile, trying your best to mask your flimsy composure though you knew he could already see straight through it. "Strategy." You lied, jutting your bottom lip back out in faux innocence.

Dazai couldn't help the laugh that escaped him as he tilted his head towards yours, closing the already small gap between you. "Is that right?" He mused, his lips just barely grazing yours. "My diligent little ghost, always so focused."

You nodded back at him helplessly, his grin razor sharp as his hand trailed from your jaw to the back of your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcefully cocking your head to the side.

It earned him a yelp as he continued to hold his weapon to you. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" His breath fanned across your skin, leaving a delirious static in its wake while his body pressed against yours, pinning you between him and a metal crate. "Your eyes give you away every time."

"Dazai..." It wasn't quite a moan, but alarmingly close to one as his lips found the nape of your neck, his teeth lightly sinking into you.

"This opens up all sorts of doors for us though, doesn't it?" His curiosity was reaching new heights, dangerous ones that he'd always tried to keep at bay, but now... the glazed over eyes staring back at him were giving him all the confirmation he never needed to keep going.

You nearly moaned into his mouth when he finally kissed you, your hands desperately tangling into the collar of his shirt as you pulled him in closer. Your movements urgent and beyond your control.

"Spread for me." He said between breaths, using his leg to coax yours apart. "I wanna see something."

You were so lost, so needy and overtaken by the feeling of him that you merely whimpered in response, not caring about anything else except for the feeling of his lips back on yours.

"Good girl," he exhaled, hiking your skirt up as he slowly began to slide his gun down along your face. "You trust me, don't you?"

“Always.” You said despite the way your legs were trembling, your nerves dancing with a vicious mix of excitement and fear as he traced the barrel of the gun over your puffy lips.

He angled his knee just right, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while you gradually parted your lips for him, welcoming the cold metal into your mouth.

Dazai had never been one for big acts of commitment, but watching you moan into his loaded Beretta made him realize that maybe he did need to know your ring size after all. Just in case.

"Look at you," he groaned, nearly losing himself to the sight of it. "So fucking gorgeous when you're at my mercy like this."

The praise went straight to your center, your body humming with dizzy want and unrelenting need as he carefully retracted it, his mouth dropping open watching the trail of spit that connected you to it break and drip graciously down your chin.

You were fulfilling fantasies of his that he thought he'd only ever get to dream of as he leaned into you again, letting you cling onto him tighter. The two of you worked in perfect feral synchronicity, him pulling the thin fabric of your underwear down over your thighs to help you step out of them before you kicked them out of reach.

"Osamu..." Your voice had been reduced down to a heady plea, one that he'd do anything in his power to satisfy.

"I’m right here.” He lulled, his grip tangled straight back into your hair while his mouth returned to yours, his other hand working on something much more... nefarious.

"Relax for me,” his voice was soft but commanding, laced with something that made you trust him though you knew you shouldn’t. “That's right. Just like that.”

Your pupils doubled in size as you felt the harsh metal begin to slip between your sensitive folds, your words suddenly eviscerated by the way he was staring down at you through dark, clouded eyes. How completely and utterly lost he looked as he spread you apart, a sense of desperation that you'd never quite seen from him before radiating off of each move he made.

"Oh...my god," Every last bit of logical thinking you had was gone, your mind and body both succumbing to the foreign sensation as he kept up a firm but gentle pace, running it uppp and dowwnnn in a way that made yours legs threaten to buckle.

"Dazai," you whined, your nails tearing into his shoulder for support as the motion became more fluid, your arousal acting as a shameful lubricant. You were almost embarrassed by how noticeable it was, how easy it was for him to glide it across you and how loud you’d gotten as you tried to bury your face into his chest.

Dazai, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. Only ascending further into the heavens with each lewd, begging little whimper that spilled out of you. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are?" He soothed, kissing and nipping at your collarbone while you started to find a rhythm, the steel still sending chills down your spine each time it brushed across your overstimulated clit. "I don't think you do," he groaned, "I really don't think you fucking understand what you do to me."

Getting praised by him to any degree always had a way of bringing you to the edge, but this... this was a type of euphoria that you didn't even know existed.

“You know the safety’s off?” He purred against your neck, his heart slamming into his chest as he watched the pouty, pleading look that had taken over you. The same one he’d seen so many times before but never quite like this.

Your slick was practically dripping onto his fingers the more he taunted you, your center greedily searching for release as your hips rocked up towards him.

“All it would take is one little slip, you know.” He was tortuously intoxicating, bringing you to your breaking point by whispering the most infernal little nothings. “With how soaked my fingers are, it’s almost like you want me to. Like you’re just begging for me to-”

Your entire body shook by his last threat, your brows knitting together while you frantically pulled him closer, repeating his name like a prayer in the small space between you. In all his time with you, he'd never seen you this undone before, this fucking beautiful and pathetic. There was something about it, about knowing that he was the only one who would ever get this type of blind obedience out of you that made something inside him ache.

“Dazai ~!”

The whine you let out was so heavy your eyes nearly crossed, more incoherent obscenities bouncing off the concrete floors.

Your cunt was pulsating, absolutely desperate for something to fill it as the orgasm hit you in waves, the rigidness of his gun still sending shockwaves through your thighs. There was a sense of pride and awe that crept over him at how well you responded to him, how overwhelmingly easy it was to break you.

"You're so pretty." He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead as he meticulously drifted the weapon back up over your stomach with a small grin. "Fucking insane, but so, so pretty."

You smiled breathlessly back at him, the loaded gun against your body completely forgotten by the weight of his compliment. “You think so?"

“Oh, I know so,” he smirked against your neck, freeing himself from his pants as his teeth sank into your skin. "You just came to the idea of me killing you and now you're all heart-eyed asking me if I really think you're pretty or not." He let out a semblance of a laugh, propping you up to wedge you against the crate again while your legs wrapped around him for support, his Beretta now resting tenderly under your chin. "My sweet girl... you're almost as deranged as I am."

The pink that swept across your face only added to the long list of reasons you were able to hold his attention. You were innocence mixed with sin. Naivety mixed with lust. He was holding a loaded gun to your head and you were all but saying “thank you.”

Your blush deepened as he prodded at your entrance, your eyes glazing over at how thoroughly his tip stretched you. “Dazai –” you whined, both of you reeling from how faithfully your walls sucked him in.

“What is it, angel?” His tone was thick with mockery, his finger resting lazily on the trigger as your nails met his back again. “Feel good?"

You nodded back at him, lips parting the deeper he went. “So good,” you exhaled, your back arching to invite him in more as he thrusted into you. “So fucking good.”

He watched you intently, his dark eyes nearly burning holes into your skin with how fervent his movements had become.

He was drowning in you, both physically and mentally– sinking further and further into the way you welcomed every part of him, both the good and bad. Even with the possibility of death looming over you, your only focus was him. The rest of the world, the threat of your life ending with one easy slip of a finger– none of it mattered as long as it was him that pulled the trigger.

"You'd let me, wouldn't you?" His voice was venomous, gentle enough to subdue you but still poisonous enough to seep into your veins without detection. "You'd let me be the one that to make that fragile heart of yours stop beating."

The answer was written all over of your face, evident in the way your core clenched around him the further he pushed.

You were soaking him, letting out the most gorgeous fucked-out noises he'd ever heard as he continued to wrap around your mind like the serpent that he was, robbing you of the last bit of dignity you had left.

"Say it." Dazai commanded, his thrusts becoming more punishing. "Let me fucking hear, it baby." He was just as lost as you were, riding a high he'd never experienced before as his hips met yours with untamed urgency.

"I –" Your vision blurred, your thighs trembling while his tip relentlessly slammed into your sweet spot. You could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence, his dark stare the only thing keeping you tethered to the room. "I– would." you finally choked out, almost drooling from how deep he suddenly was. "Dazai please, I'd– let you. I'd let you do anything, any... thing."

It wasn't the first time that he'd had someone beg while under the scope of his gun– some had begged him to spare their lives. Some had begged for him to just end it altogether. But no one had ever begged out of... love.

The noise he made was guttural, primal as his lips crashed into yours, his resolve crumbling entirely. His forehead pressed against yours while your walls spasmed around him like a vice, your core unravelling in a way that made him forget all of his senses.

You were smothering him, your nails tearing into his skin as your broken voice sang out his name like he'd trained you to do.

"There it is," he almost wasn't sure if it was you or himself he was saying it to as he began to twitch inside you. "There it– is, baby. Keep going. Don't stop." He was falling straight into the same abyss you were, the two of you tumbling hand in hand into a seemingly never-ending void of bliss.

"You're mine," he promised, letting his body seal the vow he was creating as he watched a desperate kind of sincerity settle over your features.

"Yours." you repeated softly, eyes full of conviction.

His chest heaved as he buried the last of his logical thinking and carnal desires into you at once. A damning warmth suddenly coating your walls while he slowly retracted the gun away from you and replaced it something much more sinister– affection.

His fingers gently traced over the side of your cheek as your uneven breathing mingled together. "Deranged." He panted with a faint smirk, "Certifiably insane."

You merely smiled as he pulled out of you, carefully getting you back to your feet. "And yours." You reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah," he teased, kneeling down to grab your discarded underwear. "Just stay still for me." He was tentative as he helped you redress, adjusting and smoothing down your skirt while stealing proud glances at the mess he'd left dripping down your leg.

You quietly admired him, noting the tenderness in the way he handled you as you stood perfectly still, only moving when he’d guide you.

Your brows furrowed slightly when he stood back up and pulled his Beretta out of his pocket again, opening the chamber to let a bullet fall into his hand. "Here," he said, offering it to you, "a little keepsake. Maybe you can turn it into a necklace or something."

You held it up to the light like it was a precious stone, your jewelry box back at Port Mafia suddenly calling your name as your brain danced with ideas of how to turn it into something even more beautiful.

Dazai couldn't help but grin as he watched you twirl it between your fingers with all of the delicacy in the world, your eyes wide with wonder.

It was fitting, he thought, the way you were able to make art out of even the most broken things.

⋆.𐙚˚

[solxamber]

Octavinelle 4 comedy please!

Man vs Fish || Azul Ashengrotto

For the Holiday Event!! ; Prompt: "I'm NOT jealous", Genre: Comedy

You lean casually against the bar at the Monstro Lounge, giving Azul the kind of knowing look that screams, I know something you don’t want me to know. Azul, on the other hand, is fussing with some invoices, clearly trying to ignore your presence. He’s been like this all day—tense, distracted, and oddly defensive.

“Azul~,” you start, drawing out his name like you’re about to deliver the most earth-shattering news.

He stiffens. “What?”

“I know.”

Azul pauses mid-signature, slowly looking up at you like you’ve just accused him of a crime. “You... know what?”

You smirk. “I know you’re jealous.”

His quill drops. “Excuse me?”

You pat his shoulder in mock sympathy. “It’s okay, really. I mean, who wouldn’t be jealous of a goldfish?”

Azul blinks. “What.”

“You’ve been glaring at the fish tank all day,” you explain, jerking a thumb toward the shimmering tank in the corner of the lounge. Inside, a particularly lively goldfish swims in gleeful circles, its long fins trailing behind it like streamers. “You’ve been eyeing Mr. Glub-Glub like he owes you rent.”

Azul stares at you, utterly dumbfounded. “You think I’m jealous... of a goldfish.”

You shrug. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel insecure. I mean, look at him! He’s the life of the party. Everyone stops to admire him. He’s got presence.”

Azul makes a strangled noise. “I—he’s a fish.”

You tap your chin thoughtfully. “A very charismatic fish.”

“I AM NOT JEALOUS OF A FISH!” Azul bursts out, slamming his hands on the bar. The sound echoes through the lounge, drawing the attention of a few nearby students. Jade, ever the opportunist, pokes his head out from the kitchen with a curious glint in his eye.

“Something the matter, Azul?” Jade asks, far too innocently.

“No!” Azul snaps, face already starting to flush.

You give Jade a solemn nod. “He’s jealous of Mr. Glub-Glub.”

“I AM NOT!” Azul sputters, practically tripping over himself. “I don’t—why would I be—he’s just a decorative fish!”

Jade hums thoughtfully. “He is rather elegant. Such graceful fins.”

“STOP HELPING!” Azul cries, burying his face in his hands.

You, now fully committed to this bit, lean closer to Azul, your voice soft and conspiratorial. “It’s okay to admit it, Azul. We all have someone—or something—we feel we can’t measure up to. You don’t have to hide your feelings.”

Azul groans, dragging his hands down his face. “You are impossible. Utterly impossible.”

You pat his back reassuringly. “And you’re jealous. It’s okay, buddy.”

Azul straightens up, adjusting his glasses with a newfound determination. “You know what? Fine. If I’m so ‘jealous,’ let’s settle this once and for all.”

You blink. “Settle what?”

“I’ll prove that I’m not jealous of that... goldfish,” he declares, striding purposefully toward the tank.

Jade, clearly enjoying the chaos, sidles up next to you. “What do you think he’s going to do?”

“No idea,” you admit, watching as Azul begins to... negotiate?

“Listen here, Mr. Glub-Glub,” Azul mutters, leaning down to glare at the fish. “You may think you’re popular now, but this is my lounge. I run this show. I bring the customers. You’re just... aquatic decor!”

The goldfish bobs cheerfully in the water, entirely unfazed.

You exchange a glance with Jade. “Yup. Definitely not jealous.”

Azul spins around, his cheeks blazing. “I’M NOT!”

You and Jade burst into laughter, and even Azul can’t keep the twitch of a smile off his face, though he quickly hides it behind a grumble.

As the laughter dies down, you sidle up to him and grin. “For the record, Azul, you’re way cooler than Mr. Glub-Glub. He could never rock a suit like you.”

Azul huffs, but the faint smile returns. “Well... obviously.”

“And for the record,” you add, patting his shoulder, “you’re still jealous.”

Azul groans. “You’re the worst.”

“And you love it.”

He says nothing, but the way he flushes says everything.

Masterlist

[floraisoncoeur]

Appearance glow ups are all fine and good but have you ever gone from having severe, debilitating depression to having super manageable depression? That’s the real shit right there