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#it's not that dramatic I just wish it was
tragedy-of-commons · 22 hours
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"You're burning up" + Aventurine?
"You're burning up."
Aventurine doesn't know what else to say, so he goes with those three words. Safe bet - the doting parents in all the movies and sitcoms say it just like that; with care and worry, palm splayed out across the ill's forehead.
And holy hell are you ill.
Collapsed on his lavish sofa, you groan in response, swatting his hand away. "I'm gonna be just fine..."
He's inclined to disagree. You're sweating buckets despite how he'd mashed the thermostat down to its limit - he even had to shrug on a jacket. Perhaps Aventurine would have poked fun at you for your intolerance, but he has enough decorum to hold his tongue. He really doesn't like seeing you so put out, as much as you're welcome to crash here.
"Your poker face could use some work. Save your words, we can hang out another time," he dismisses easily, bracing himself for your incoming opposition. He reluctantly breaks away from your side to amble over to the coffee table, beginning to clean up the remnants of game night.
"No way," in the corner of his eye, he notices you shifting restlessly, "finals are coming up. Won't have time after this..."
Aventurine sighs, sweeping his very nice clay chips into one hand while using the other to click open their case. This time of year, things become almost unbearably hectic. He has exams coming up in a few weeks himself, and though he never needs to study, he always adheres to your modus operandi of 'cram now, cry later'.
"Well, you're not going back to those dorms in that state."
"You sound like a dickhead," you murmur. "You think I wanna live there? Shitty thin walls... shitty dining hall food..."
He chuckles, snapping the case shut and dusting his hands of nonexistent dust. "You're cruder than usual when you're feverish."
Aventurine almost startles when you gasp. "I have a fever?!"
...and you're loopy, too.
He gets you to sit still with the promise of retrieving a fever reducer and some water. Aventurine roots through his bathroom cabinets, combing through his own extensive collection of self-care and skin products to reach where he keeps his medication.
It takes several minutes of crouching down on the tile for him to realize he doesn't have any. He clicks his tongue - well, it seems his own lifestyle has backfired on him once again. Aventurine doesn't get sick often, doesn't spend a lot of time at home, and has enough stubborn resilience to power through any ailment that might plague him.
But for you? The only reason he spends any time at all in this stupidly expensive penthouse?
Yeah, he'll make a quick trip to the drugstore.
When he walks back into the living room with his shoes on and wallet in his pocket, his heart warms. You've somehow slipped into an upside down position, hair spilling over the edge of the cushions. You somehow make it look comfortable, eyes closed and brow free of any creases.
"Does that help your sinuses?" he asks, really only to test if you're awake.
"You smell good..."
Aventurine ignores how those words make him feel, eyeing the door (and where your shoes are lined up neatly against the wall).
"I have to restock on Tylenol," he swallows. "Will you be okay by yourself?"
"Yes," you respond coherently this time.
Before he departs, he cajoles you into another position in case you throw up like that and end up choking - not without some strangely endearing complaints that you'd normally never voice, positive thing you are.
He doesn't get to the inside mat before you pipe up again, making him stop in his tracks.
"C'mere," you cough. "Please, humor a dying star's last wish..."
He really should be going so he can get your temperature down quicker, but leaving you on the sofa while you're about to cough up a lung strikes him as cruel. Aventurine gives into your dramatics - which happen to perfectly align with his own at times - and makes his way over to you.
"What is it? Did I forget something?" he sits down on the armrest, perching there with perfect balance. When you don't respond immediately, an odd little expression on your face, he rests his chin on his fist, pensive.
You hum.
He doesn't expect much; a request for another pillow, a plea for him to turn on a movie for you while he's out. Instead, he's caught off-guard as you throw an arm around his waist and pull, effectively whisking him off the high ground and right into your grasp.
Aventurine initially tenses but settles as you nuzzle closer. You're the only person in the world that can get away with loving him so easily.
"M'sorry I got sick on game night..." you whisper, uncaring that you're spreading your sickness (and your homely oxytocin).
He finds himself not caring much either.
"Do you believe me to be that hung up on you catching a cold?"
Aventurine's heart rabbits cruelly - he's sure you can hear it, with the way you're snuggled against him and whatnot, but maybe he'll get lucky like he always has, and you'll remain oblivious and perfect and unbothered, despite what you do to him.
You sniffle, words thick with exhaustion. "I dunno. Just stay."
He can't. Not just because he has to go pick up that Tylenol, but because he feels like he might die if you keep saying things like that.
"Five minutes," he acquiesces.
Aventurine waits for your celebration of victory, but no such thing comes. You're fast asleep, clinging to him like he's worth something.
He stays for a lot longer than five minutes, only wriggling out of your arms when he's sure you won't wake up to find him gone. When he returns later with his spoils (which also just so happen to include your favorite drink), you're cradling a pillow in his place.
Before Aventurine is your boyfriend or lover, he is a liar.
He is most definitely, unequivocally, one hundred percent hung up on you.
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🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren
a/n: modern au because i couldn't possibly resist. just wanted to mention here that u guys absolutely killed it with these quotes. you have my gratitude! also why is he like that. soggy wet cat
event post here
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changetyre · 1 day
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Make a wish
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SUMMARY: It's Ivy's 2nd Birthday and her birthday wish is a little bigger than you'd expected. Part of Verstappen Family Verse
WARNINGS: None?
A/N: Requested over on wattpad ;)
"Oh no Max the party hats, I forgot to get party hats." Your heart sunk to your stomach. 
"No, I bought some." Max calmed you down. 
Today was Ivy's 2nd birthday and she had been so insistent about celebrating her birthday at a race with her Papa and Uncles despite you telling her she could have a big birthday party at home with her friends. Ivy almost cried when you suggested something else wanting nothing more but to be at the "waces!" for her birthday. 
Despite this, you still wanted her birthday to have somewhat of a little celebration so you'd spent days making and decorating cupcakes to take to the paddock and buying some decorations for Ivy. 
You'd wanted everything to be a surprise so you'd mostly work at night so that the girls didn't see you because you also knew that if Lea saw anything she would definitely say something since she was as good at keeping secrets as her uncle Lando.  
But Max could tell how stressed and tired you'd grown with trying to get everything perfect for her and he was glad it was finally the day so you could relax a little. You'd woken up earlier to get the stuff in the car so that Brad could drive it to the track before you arrived with Max, Ivy, and Lea. 
"Okay, I'll go now." Brad got in the car to drive off. 
"Wait no did I bring down the streamers?" You asked. 
"Yes," Max answered waving Brad away. 
"Wait what about the-" 
"Schatje, everything's there." Max cupped your face to get you to look at him. 
"But what if-" 
"If it's not she won't even notice darling, it'll be perfect because we'll be there." Max kissed you not letting you argue further. He could feel you relax in his arms. 
"I'm sorry, I just want everything to be perfect." You hugged your husband tightly. 
"You'll never reach perfection baby, trust me I've tried" Max kissed your head. "But you're close enough and Ivy's gonna love whatever we do for her." 
 __________
"PAPA WOOK!" Ivy yelled excitedly as she ran out of her room. 
Max turned to see his daughter in a big puffy Belle dress which she had begged him to buy for her birthday. 
"Oh my god is that Belle?" Max gasped dramatically. 
You stood by the door watching the interaction with loving eyes. 
"No Papa is me Iby!" Ivy ran up to her dad who lifted her up and twirled her around. 
"How's my gorgeous birthday girl?" Max kissed her cheeks. 
"Papa I tuwn two." Ivy held up her tiny hand trying to hold up 2 fingers but her third finger kept slipping out of the grasp of her little thumb and pinky finger. 
"Yes, you do and you need to stop growing." Max hugged her closer sighing at the idea of his girls growing up. 
A few seconds later Lea peaked her head around the corner of her room. "Mamma?" She called your name. 
"You ready baby?" You asked your daughter whom you'd also bought a dress for since you wanted to make sure she didn't feel left out. 
She nodded shyly, she'd started growing shy around you and her dad lately whenever she showed you something which you found adorable. 
She walked out wearing her Belle dress too except hers was the blue town dress and you'd helped her put a blue bow on her hair. 
"What a gorgeous princess!" Max also sighed dramatically while holding Ivy who clapped in his arms happily. 
You had breakfast quickly, the girls and you having pancakes as a treat for Ivy's birthday while Max had to eat something else to keep his weight down for getting in the car later. 
You strapped everyone into the car and off you went to the race track. 
________
As soon as you arrived there were cameras everywhere but by now the girls were used to it especially Lea who liked to pose for the cameras despite Max and you telling her to keep her head low. 
"Mama Wando?" Lea pointed down to the McLaren hospitality as you approached the Redbull hospitality. 
"Maybe we'll see him later Ivy he's not here yet." You lied and heard her sigh sadly as she rested her head on your shoulder.
You'd arrived at the track pretty early since Max didn't have to be on the track until around 4 today but as a surprise for Ivy's birthday, You and Max had asked the boys if they could arrive early to surprise Ivy for her birthday knowing she would just want to spend the day with her favorite people. 
You walked into the Redbull hospitality and Brad, Vicky, and other staff members were there ready just like planned. 
"Ivy look!" Max called out to his daughter who lifted her head from your shoulder to look towards her dead. 
"SURPRISE!" They called out as party poppers went off and confetti flew everywhere Ivy's eyes and mouth were wide open as she looked around the decorated room. 
She squealed in your arms squirming for you to put her down and as soon as you did she went running to where there were presents and a huge cake with a small fondant F1 car where Ivy was the driver wearing a tiara. 
"PAPA LOOK!" Ivy called out to her dad pointing at the top of the cake. 
"Wow, Ivy." Max gasped surprised as if he hadn't specifically asked for her cake. 
You looked around to look for Lea just to find her munching away at the snacks that were laid out across the snack table despite eating breakfast not long ago. Just as you turned again you noticed Lando, Dani, Carlos, and Charles at the door, Ivy too distracted looking at her cake with her dad to notice. 
"Come in." You waved the drivers over. Max had previously discussed all of this with Christian and he'd gladly accepted having the drivers over at the hospitality for a few hours for the celebration. 
"MY BABY!" Lando yelled as soon as he was inside. 
Ivy's head snapped immediately in the direction of her favorite person. "WANDOOOO!" She yelped as she ran as fast as her little feet could carry her towards her godfather. 
Lea hearing the commotion turned around and also ran towards her godfather, Daniel scooping her up in her arms happily. 
It didn't take long for the rest of the drivers to pile in and Ivy excitedly greeted everyone although always kept coming back to Lando's arms. 
Although you'd insisted they didn't have to bring anything you weren't surprised to see the gift table had doubled in numbers at all the gifts the drivers had bought only hoping they hadn't spent ridiculous amounts of money on a 2-year-old. 
"Happy Birthday dear Ivy! Happy Birthday to you!" Everyone finished singing as Max held Lea in his arms, you holding Lea in yours as you stood behind the birthday cake. Antoine, Louis, and Joris moved across taking pictures and videos of your family per their own request as you'd told them they didn't need to take any pictures and you'd be happy with simply their presence but they insisted. 
"Make a wish princess." Max lowered Ivy so she could blow at her candles. 
"I wish for a widdle broder!" Ivy yelled out unashamedly blowing out her candles afterwards. 
You and Max looked at each other in shock as everyone around you burst out laughing. "Uh, you're meant to say your wish in your head baby," Max told his daughter not really sure how to proceed. 
"hmm." She shrugged unbothered as she squirmed for Max to put her down. "Wando Cake!" She called out to her godfather who gladly came over to help Ivy start cutting the cake (horribly). 
After everyone got a piece and Lea sat sharing her piece with Lando on his lap you all sat and relaxed for a while, Max by your side as Lea played around with Joris and Charles whom she still had an obsession with. 
Max turned to you blinking hard three times, his little I love you gesture. "So what do you think about Ivy's wish huh?" Max asked you. 
You laughed at the thought. Max laughing with you. "If it's with you I want it all." You told him lovingly. 
"In another year?" Max dragged your chair closer to him so there was barely a gap between the both of you. 
"Sounds good to me." You smiled before Max kissed you lovingly. 
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lyneira · 2 days
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-> "Your sweet boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, who pouts whenever you tease him, also secretly enjoys making you beg for his c*ck"
SMUT - MINORS DNI
satoru gojo x fem!reader | cw: fingering, oral, unprotected sex, teasing, begging
lyneira's (18+) mini event: Your Sweet Boyfriend!
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@muli-wam 's result!
Gojo is a joker and a man full of audacity, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise when he pouted after you teased him.
He was "sulking" after you lightly jabbed him with a line.
"How could you be so mean, Y/N...? After all that we've been through... you wound me...", he'd whine with the expression of puppy who had just been kicked, and it would cause a vein to pop on your forehead. You knew he was just being dramatic like he always was.
You would scoff at his pouting. The man was a menace to everyone when it came to his jokes and small acts.
He was often a little shit, and unfortunately, that would apply to the bedroom as well.
He quite enjoyed it when the tables were turned in which you were the one pouting at him, and he would grin at your expression. He'd grin so smug at the whole situation, really.
At the current moment, you were underneath him, your cunt soaked with desire from all of his skilled touches, and from the way he used his tongue on you moments prior, his mouth still glistening with your essence.
You were more than ready to have his cock inside you. But, like the little shit he was, he wouldn't let you have it yet. Instead, he'd have two fingers inside you, slowly pumping in and out, knowing that you would rather have his thick cock fill your hole and absolutely wreck you. It was torture, and he would hum in amusement whenever he felt your walls trying to squeeze around his fingers, knowing so well that you wanted more friction.
He, himself, was feeling just as eager as you with the bead of precum currently staining his tip and his dick shot up so proudly. Yet, he wasn't going to give in until you begged.
So when he finally heard the sound of your voice calling his name, he was happily all-ears.
"S-Satoru...please...", you moaned weakly.
"Hm?" He leaned in close to your face while still having his fingers buried in your cunt. "What is it, Y/N? I couldn't quite understand you"
"Please...! I need it", you cried louder.
"Need what? You're gonna have to be more specific than that, sweetie", he'd whisper that last bit huskily, his grin growing wider and his fingers playfully swirling inside your pussy.
You could no longer take it.
"Your cock! FUCK...! I need your cock! I want you to fuck my brains out already! Satoru, please, please-ah..!"
Finally. Those were the words he loved to hear.
With that final outburst, he'd grant your wish at last, quickly removing his fingers and sticking his dick inside you. As he pushed himself further in, it deliciously stretched your walls with each inch before he finally buried himself balls-deep into you.
"Well, why didn't you just say so?", he smirked.
You'd have yelled at him for that last comment if he didn't then proceed to thrust in and out of you at a violent pace, making you moan instead. The rate at which he was fucking you had you digging your nails into his back and had you seeing stars already.
"Ahh...that's my good girl," he'd shakily breathe out. You're pussy embracing him so tightly like this felt like heaven to him. "Look how wet you are. You're sucking me in so well."
This, paired with the erotic sounds of skin slapping against skin and the gushing noises of your pussy with each thrust would be enough to make him come already, but the greatest jujutsu sorcerer would have to prove himself worthy especially after you've been so good for him and had begged him so sweetly. He'll ensure that his teasing would be worth it throughout all of the night.
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© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
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yestrday · 1 day
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: ̗̀➛ DESPERATION INCARNATE yan! xiao / gn! reader
in every life, he had sworn to protect you. in every life, he had failed. in this life, he'll make sure that it won't happen again. to keep the you in this life from ever slipping away from him like you did so many times before.
in which xiao falls in love with you in every life and slowly goes insane.
( reincarnation au, w4r, lots of blo0dshed and decápitation, graphic description of vi0lence, mention of xiao's sl4very, deáth... lots of it, sort of enabler aether but for a lil bit, the beginnings of a yandere, angst. lots of it as well )
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“you know, yéyé says that if you make a wish on a dandelion seed, then your wishes will come true!”
the unnamed adeptus fixes his golden gaze on a fellow prisoner, sitting across from him with a bright smile. the prisoners around them have given up already, with their dull, glazed eyes and the repeated prayers of deàth spilling from their cracked lips. but this odd one, although their face caked with grime and their hair matted from bloòd, smiles at him from the darkness.
“... dandelion seed?” he goes, not bothering to wince or be embarrassed by his raspy voice. this dull life strips you of your dignity and pride. there’s no use in saving face when you’re looking at deàth right in the eyes. “i have never heard of such a thing.”
“oh, you don’t know?” the little prisoner cocks their head at him. “it’s a curious thing! it’s a flower with fluffy petals covering the middle part. yéyé said that whenever he takes a walk on the borders between liyue and mondstadt, he’d pick some for himself and make a wish!”
the adeptus scoffs. “wishes have no place in my world. actions must be taken if you want results. your grandfather sounds foolish. now be quiet, lest you want the god to take care of that noisy tongue of yours.”
his fellow mate sticks said tongue out at him and gives him a dirty glare. “how rude! my yéyé is the smartest one in our village, you know. he takes a record of all the crops harvested. he’s veeery important! besides, don’t you want to know what he wished for?”
he sighs. it wouldn’t hurt to indulge this one’s yapping for a little more time. the painful groans were starting to take a toll on him and conversation, no matter how foolish the premise sounded, was a nice change of pace. even if his throat was hurting from use because of the god’s neglect to give them drinkable water. “what is it, then?”
they grin at him. “he wished for mondstadt’s harsh winds to disappear! isn’t he cool?”
“why wouldn’t he use the wish for himself?” he cocks his head. “it seems to be more efficient and logical.”
the little prisoner stares at them from behind their bars.
“... what.”
“you are so dull to talk to.”
ugh, this little—! they were the one who started the conversation! before alatus could snap something back, they fall back dramatically and shake their head at him in a pitying manner. “wishes aren’t made to be efficient and logical, stupid! they won’t always work! that’s why they’re just wishes!”
he decides that this thing is absolutely aggravating to talk to, but he won’t deny that he likes their company. “then what’s the use of doing something so useless?”
they laugh. it echoes through their cell, a pleasant tune before it escapes through the bars and gets lost in the sad symphony of groans and lifeless pleas. they continue to laugh like they were underneath liyue’s vast blue skies instead of an underground tomb. “isn’t it obvious, mister adeptus? it’s for hope!
“if you wish on a dandelion and blow the seeds away, your wish will be carried for all of teyvat to hear! and then– and then! even if it’s just a teeny bit of hope, you’ll start to feel that everything can be possible!”
“sounds inefficient.”
“that’s why i said you’re so dull to talk to.”
“hmph.”
“i don’t understand why you keep coming back down here, mister adeptus,” comes the familiar cheery voice of his once prison mate. the surrounding cells are all empty, filled with corpses of the dead long gone. the young god has no time to spare any thought for the useless mortals hanging in his underground prison. the adeptus slides a tray of milk and bread between the bars and into the lap of a grinning face.
even you, he thinks as he examines their sallow face and dry lips. you have been forgotten.
 “you have plenty of companions upstairs. shouldn’t you be celebrating and parading around with them? i heard through the cracks that you’ve got plenty of rice wine to waste.”
“they are not my companions,” he snaps, but they don’t flinch as they snack on the food. “they’re fools who waste their time mindlessly partying and deriving pleasure from the pain of the weak. and i’m… i am nothing more than the god’s plaything.”
he sinks to the ground, sighing. “... [your name],” he whispers, staring at them tearfully from behind bars. “i will get us out of here, i promise.” his hands, shaking and caked with blood, gently reach for their cheek. it’s rough and awfully thin, and something in his chest breaks whenever he sees such a beautiful thing covered in dirt like they were nothing. “i’ll get you back to your village. i’ll make sure that you’ll see your grandfather and your siblings again.”
their hands squeeze his lightly, not having the energy to reciprocate his tenderness like they used to. “i know,” they whisper back to him. they smile up at him, though it is now weak and shaky. “... your hair is green.”
his brows knit together in confusion, but they brush back a few stray strands and smile at the feel of it in their palm. “... i’ve never seen a dandelion, you know. but my yéyé says that dandelions are green. i don’t know if it’s this shade of green but…” you close your eyes and chuckle. “it’s nice to know that i have my own dandelion right in front of me.”
“...?!”
“my dandelion… i have a wish to make,” you mumble to him. alatus closes in, ready to serve you your heart’s deepest desires.
“anything… anything you want, [your name], i’ll make it come true. so…!”
“smile for me, will you?” you peer up at him, watching confusion take over his delicate yet rough features. “you always look so sad. as my dearest friend…
“my only wish is that i see you smile. even if it’s just once.”
the adeptus returns the next day, milk and bread on a tray once more. they are wasted on the floor.
a corpse smiles from the shadows of the cell.
he thinks back to the wish he couldn’t fulfill yesterday. try as he might, it’s hard to stretch his lips into a genuine smile.
maybe it’s because he’s collapsed on the ground, yelling in pain as his whole world blissfully sleeps in the corner.
maybe it’s because whenever he tries to smile, it doesn’t feel right.
not when there’s no one to smile for anymore.
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the end is nowhere in sight, yet rex lapis keeps pushing forward.
alatus’ spear plunges into the guts of the demons, spurting black blood over his lithe body as he pulls it out. around him, his fellow yakshas are also hard at work. bosacius tears bodies apart with his four bare hands, splattering more blood and leaving a gruesome sight behind. menogias clicks his tongue and furrows his eyes at the electro yaksha in disapproval.
“can’t you be a bit more graceful, bosacius?” he steps out of the way as bonanus and indarias team up to fling a particularly mighty foe across his way. “these corpses are dismal to look at!”
bosacius laughs boisterously, hoisting an enemy up in the air and cracking their skull on a rock in one fell swoop. “i can’t be bothered, brother! this is the way bosacius fights! with bare hands and strength! corpses are not meant to be looked at anyway!” crack. crack. the gruesome sounds of his fighting are lost in the sounds of war around them.
with a clever twist of his body, alatus sends a corpse to the four-handed idiot to which he skillfully catches without even sparing a glance. “less talking, more fighting,” he says ever so curtly. “rex lapis requires our immediate assistance. do not dally.”
bosacius and menogias send each other a knowing glance, quite familiar with alatus’ undying loyalty to their senior adeptus. the fighting continues and alatus continues to let himself get lost in the chaos, never minding the mysterious ache that binds his chest tighter and tighter with every demon purged. when the battle is won, no one celebrates. it’s hard to, when you feel the blood of the thousands you have massacred drying on your skin. alatus approaches rex lapis, his toned back shadowed by the rising sun as he overlooks the aftermath of the war.
“you’ve fought well, alatus,” rex lapis’ deep voice acknowledges him, brown eyes still steady on the horizon. “you do well to keep the contract.”
“i do not need a contract to serve you, rex lapis,” alatus starts humbly, lowering his gaze in respect. “i owe you my freedom and life.”
“you say that, yet i now have you enslaved to kill for another cause. to me, there is no difference.” rex lapis casts a glace on his most loyal follower. “yet you say that i have given you freedom.”
alatus takes note of the dry bitterness underneath rex lapis’ otherwise gravel tone. “i have signed the contract of my own free will,” he professes, daring to gaze his golden eyes into his lord’s similar ones. “you need not worry about me, my lord.”
rex lapis chuckles, before beckoning alatus to his side. “look at her harsh winds and cold peaks,” the senior adeptus muses. “our nation is blessed with vast plains and tall mountains, but our neighbors shoulder the bitter cold while fighting their side of the archon war.”
“indeed,” alatus could only say. “but your victory is sure now, my lord. soon you will rebuild liyue to glory once you’ve taken the seat of the seven.”
“mmm, yes,” rex lapis hums. “the war nears its end. seven victors from different nations, including bitter and wintry mondstadt. i wonder what sort of archon will rise from mondstadt. our borders are joined together— while violetgrass root themselves on the stony sides of our mountains, their dandelions withstand harsh winds even as their seeds threaten to fly. perhaps their new archon can give them a home where they can grow unbothered, while i build our citizens to be as resilient as a violetgrass.”
… dandelions…
“apologies for the unnecessary question, my lord, but… have you seen a dandelion?”
“oh, they’re curious little things indeed. native to mondstadt. if guizhong had time, she used to walk by the borders and pluck them to make a wish.”
alatus’s breath hitches at the familiar tale. “... what did she wish for, if i would be permitted to know?”
rex lapis’ lips turn into a half-smile, hardened eyes softening at the memories of a dear friend long gone. “she wished for liyue to prosper under my rule. never used a wish on herself.”
“... huh.” the wind blows back alatus’s matted hair, revealing forlorn eyes as they gaze at the sun. “... i wonder why they all do that.”
“does this all sound familiar to you, alatus?” the younger adeptus looks up to see his lord gazing at him with a soft look. alatus shakes his head and straightens his back, taking on the stance of a soldier once again.
“no. this is not the time for me to be concerned with another nation’s trivialities.” he bows his head to the adeptus and starts to make his exit. he doesn’t know why, but a gloved hand takes one of the stray strands of hair self-consciously and turns back to rex lapis. “another question… if i may be so impudent to ask.”
“impudence is not a word to be used on you, alatus. go ahead.”
for a moment, alatus’s confused and conflicted face makes him look like the young adeptus rex lapis saved from the hands of a cruel god. now he is not a battle-hardened soldier, but a lost boy who doesn’t know what to do. “... is the shade of my hair… similar to that of a dandelion?”
the older adeptus cocks his head at the unusual question. “far from it, no.” he studies alatus’s look of disappointment as he lets go of the strand. “why do you ask?”
“... nothing, my lord.”
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moments of respite like this are rare in this current era of warfare, so soldiers cherish every single second of it. but for alatus who has only known bloodshed ever since his days at the mercy of the young god, this temporary peacefulness is a waste of time. in a camp just outside of liyue harbor, alatus and his fellowmen idle around a crackling campfire.
“you’re too fidgety, alatus-gē,” pervases laughs as he takes a bite out of his grilled ticker fish. he raises one to alatus’s face. “care for one?” when the senior adeptus scowls and turns his head away, he shrugs and scoffs it down stick and all in one gulp. “more for me then.”
“those malevolent gods continue to let their underlings rampage as we sit here and idle,” alatus frowned at the seemingly peaceful campsite of his fellow yakshas and even a few outstanding mortal warriors. “we should be making plans and calling reinforcements. the war will not end unless we bring that monster down to its watery grave.”
“oh my,” comes a motherly sigh. a young woman with silvery gray hair smiles slyly at alatus. her slender figure stretches across the log serving as a seat in front of the campfire, the cleansing bell tinkling delicately at her side. “you youngsters are quite eager to get into danger these days. not everyone has the energy to keep battling, you know? why i—” she sighs mournfully, pressing her fingers to a supple cheek “— even i need my beauty sleep. charging into the fray daily with no rest is just too much!”
“ping,” he addresses the newcomer. “i see that you are as vain as ever. if you’re not willing to put your all into this war, why did you even enter the contract?”
“i am upholding my end of the contract,” huffs ping. “but only within reason! you’re the one who’s out of reason.” she waves him off with her hand, shooing him off like a stray dog. “take a walk or something. call it a night patrol to ease yourself. i’m afraid your scowl is going to affect me and give me wrinkles.”
alatus takes a good moment to ponder the suggestion before he feels ping’s eyes narrowing at him threateningly. with a deep sigh, he takes his spear with him and teleports himself to a quiet walkway some ways off the guili assembly. war had touched this side of liyue too, it seemed, with swords rusted with blood plunged to the ground and tattered kerchiefs belonging to soldiers waving solemnly in the air. alatus knows this place to once been the safe haven of rex lapis and the late guizhong’s people before the war took the sweet goddess’ life and perished her to dust. now it is mere ruins, a reminder of the evil deities are willing to commit for power.
alatus has years of battle experience under his belt, but it doesn’t make the feeling any better as he stares at these relics. he focuses his gaze on the moon and walks by.
… rumble rumble…
a weathering wall shakes just a few steps away, alerting alatus’s senses. he quickly arms his spear as he vigilantly approaches the spot. the place is teeming with ruin guards and other dangerous mechanisms and although mindless machines are no match for him, alatus is not one to underestimate an opponent. when he peeks around the corner, it is not the eerie glowing eye of a machine but a pair of eyes about to glaze over.
covered in soot and dirt, a raspy voice tries to speak out, “w… wa… ter…”
alatus blinks in surprise when he finds a human instead but quickly teleports somewhere to get drinkable water. in a moment, he appears again in front of them and swiftly tips the saucer into their mouth. gently lifting their head, he watches as they desperately glug down the water. some of it spills from the sides, but the light in their eyes quickly revives until they pull away with a gasp.
“ugh… ha! i thought i was a goner there!”
alatus freezes.
two shining [eye color] eyes peer up at him gratefully as a wide grin spreads across their face.
“thanks a lot, mister adeptus.”
they are escorted into liyue harbor. alatus does not talk to them or even spare them a glance, afraid of whatever feelings that may arise should he do so. he’s aware of the curious glance they send his way, scrutinizing his every inch. he doesn’t like how they stare at him with awe and absolute trust. this is an era of warring gods, where adepti like him dig into flesh and blood to pursue their ambition. fools who cling to whoever feeds them die easily.
they continue staring. it feels like fire as his guilt and memories long pushed away pour from his heart and threaten to consume him whole. his steps feel heavier, as if any second now and the earth will cave in and send him straight to hell. unconsciously, his eyes glance back to them and they… smile.
it hurts.
flashes of a corpse long gone come back to him and he tears his eyes away. he shakes this haunting feeling away, yet their stare that bears the weight of decades' guilt continues to burden him all the way to camp.
"ping," he says gruffly, catching the attention of the group. everyone's a bit startled at the arrival of a newcomer, a dusty and malnourished one at that, but even more so that alatus decided to trek uphill instead of just conveniently teleporting himself. "take care of this one," is all he curtly says before plopping down underneath a tree and closing his eyes.
ping huffs in disdain and gives him a dirty look, but quickly changes it to give the newcomer a warm smile. “come now, sweetie,” she coos, placing a comforting palm on the small of their back and escorting them to the bonfire. “you’re positively shivering! it makes sense, given that that yaksha’s always so cold.” at this alatus grunts, but she doesn’t pay him any mind. “here’s some soup and a blanket to cover you with. my gosh, you’re so dirty! what have you been doing? playing around in the mud?”
you eagerly take her up on her offer, and soon you’re swaddled in a thick blanket and bowl of carrot soup to enjoy in front of the fire. “i was actually studying some of the leftover ruins at the assembly. i thought that maybe i could get some useful things and use them for myself.”
ping gasps dramatically at your story– a young adult scrapping for leftovers in the middle of the war– and alatus rolls his eyes. “poor, poor thing!” she cries and draws you in for a hug. “don’t worry. here at morax’s camp, you won’t have to suffer through that anymore! you’ll be cared for until we can find a suitable place for you and the other survivors to live!”
you laugh. “i think you have the wrong impression, ms. adeptus, i’ve had it pretty easy compared to others during this war. what i’ve been scrapping are materials!”
ping cocks her head, and alatus even peeks out from the tree he’s hiding behind. “materials, darling?”
“yes! screws, tree bark, metal, you name it. i’m finding them so i can continue making my gadgets.” you fish into your bag, and they can hear the clanking of metal and other stuff as you sift through the mess. “ah, here it is, one of my favorites!” you pull out a curious box, the cuhui wood engraved with liyuean details. you gently snap the box open and reveal a little figurine made out of precious stone, frozen in an elegant twirl reminiscent of liyue’s traditional dances. you begin to crank the little knob at its side, and when you release it a pleasant tinkling of sounds fills the night air.
ping stares wide-eyed at the pretty treasure, listening to its sounds with a fond look on her face. even pervasive hums as he gnaws on his nth fish, his scratchy voice humming along with the old lullaby. other nearby campers close their eyes and let their minds wander for a while, to a place where lullabies such as this sang all day and wars didn’t raze grass and civilians to the ground. for a moment, they let themselves be deluded into a moment of peace.
when the tinkling fades away, only the crackling of the fire remains. “pretty, isn’t it?” it takes ping a moment to snap out of her trance before nodding enthusiastically.
“quite! oh, if it didn’t look so perfect slotted between your hands, i might have snatched it for myself! although,” she nervously chuckles, feeling the stern gaze of the silent adeptus lounging behind the tree. “i might not have the chance anyway. a certain someone has been glaring at me ever since i conceived the thought.”
“maybe he wants it for himself?” pervases jokes. “he could do with it, what with all that stress.”
“hmph, i’ve no need for such trivial things.” he goes back to resting against the trunk without another word.
ping sighs and shakes her head at you, like a disappointed mother. “he’s always like that,” she laments. “he’s morax’s most faithful servant, i’ll tell you that, but sometimes it makes me wonder what will happen after this war is over. surely he won’t be going around slaughtering monsters?!” she raises her hand to her mouth like the thought was too unforgivable.
pervases hummed, thinking hard and long about how his senior would act in a time of peace. “hmm… i think alatus-ge would like to fish. he seems like the type.”
the image of the bloody general fishing floats above your three heads. ping waves it away. “as if!” she scoffs. “he’d just spear the fish and be done with it!”
“what kind of person do you think alatus-ge is…?”
“alatus, alatus!”
something twists at his gut, a mix of anticipation and dread, but he stops in his tracks to wait for you. you catch your breath beside him. “you’re so fast for someone so short!” you complain. “how do you do it?”
“slowness isn’t an option on the battlefield,” alatus curtly says before turning to assess. you’re covered head to toe in dirt, and your fingers are covered in grime like you’ve been digging. he sighs and rubs a speck of dirt from your cheek. “another one of your foraging hunts? you can always tell me if you need something. it’s too dangerous outside the camp.”
“i used to tell you, didn’t i?” you pout. “but you can’t tell the difference between a cork and a screw!”
alatus blushes. he can’t really wrap his head around these machineries. whenever you and cloud retainer got into one of your excited conversations about tinkering and machinery, alatus could only pretend like everything you just said didn’t make his head spin. if you got into another of your rants about the intricacies of machines or whatever, everything you said went into one ear and out the other.
“but you still listen, don’t you?” ping and pervases teased him with knowing grins. he had hit them over the head after that.
“... tus! alatus! ugh, you’re not listening again!” you had gotten into a lecture of the differences between corks and screws, but now you shake him by the shoulder with furrowed brows. “you’re always like this. is machinery really too hard for you?”
“everyone has their strengths.” he ruffles your hair, smiling softly when you visibly relax. “you wouldn’t want me to tell you about how to efficiently kill geovishaps, do you?” when you make a face, he laughs slightly. “thought so.”
“they just… ugh. they just smell so bad!”
“... they smell like rocks.”
as the two of you finish the rest of his patrol, alatus doesn’t miss a moment to watch your every movement. here, under the red rays of dusk, you look so alive. your cheeks could be healthier, but alatus is comforted with the knowledge that you stuffed yourself full this morning. your eyes have a twinkle in them, not the last sparks of ember that you had tried to hold on for so long. and you smile… because you want to. not because you had to. not because you had to comfort your fellow friend in prison.
“looks like we’ve walked too far,” alatus comments, sighting the dandelions swaying in the distance. “we should head back to camp before it gets too dark.”
“oooh, dandelions,” you muse. you and alatus stand side by side, taking in the dandelions swaying in their pastel heads swaying in the wind. “i heard they were pretty, but seeing them in person is better.”
standing by your side, alatus takes in your countenance. there is an indistinguishable look in your eyes as you watch their seeded heads bob and sway, your smile somewhere between content and forlorn. the setting sun paints your face with an orange hue, only serving to make you look as if you’ve come out of an oil painting itself. alatus’s breath hitches and he tears his eyes away from you.
self-consciously, he rubs a teal strand of his hair before tucking it back. “do… does my hair…” you turn your gaze to him questioningly, and his pale face burns at the embarrassing predicament he’s put himself in. “does my hair look like the dandelions?”
you stare at him for quite some time, only blinking and not saying anything, before you tilt your head back and laugh. alatus’s face only reddens further and he hits you with his elbow in his embarrassment. you only continue to laugh, even as alatus is beginning to throttle you and beg you to pay no heed to his words. when you’re done laughing, alatus huffs at you and refuses to look at you.
“oh, you… silly adeptus, i would have mistaken you for a pure-hearted maiden there!” you giggle into your hand, and alatus’s brows knit themselves in huffiness as you continue to tease him. “come on, you have eyes. they’re not even close in color!”
he kicks you lightly in the shin, before turning around and walking off to the distance. “come on. let’s head to camp before night,” he says as if nothing’s happened. you stare at his back for a while, a teasing smile on your face, before shaking it off and hurrying to catch up to him. when you catch up to him, you leap at him with your arms around his neck, ruffling his hair with a bright smile on your face.
“don’t be too grumpy, alatus!” you laugh, even as he sends you a look of frustration. “once this is all over, we’ll come back to this place and make wishes on those dandelions!”
“don’t forget about me, mister servant,” you lightly laugh behind your bars. “bring me lots of food, okay? then once you get me outta here, we’ll have a big ol’ feast at my yéyé’s.”
one of the guards tug at alatus’s shackles but he clings to your cell even as they grunt and pull. “[your name], i’m not leaving you! i can’t! i won’t!”
you chuckle. “stupid mister adeptus. who’s going to swipe cake for me then? now go, shoo.” you wave him away, smiling weakly. “i know you’ll come back for me. you always will.”
you’ve always had a knack for being the unluckiest person alive. even if your smile was so bright that it seemed to ward off evil, tragedy always seemed to tightly coil around your neck like a noose. he wanted to be the one to cut it off, in both the last life and this.
once again, he always seemed to be too late.
“they’ve broken through the formation!” indarias yells, slamming a fiery fist through her enemies. the pyro-blessed yaksha, usually so playful and coy, looks at her comrades with panic. “there’s no one left at the camp to defend them anymore. they’re— they’re all—!” she swallows down the bitter reality, pervases and her other comrades’ gored bodies flashing through her mind. “the civilians can’t defend themselves from all those monsters!”
“shit.” menogias slices through a foe and turns to their youngest, standing atop a pile of bloodied corpses. karmic debt wraps him and the other yakshas like a dense fog, and it gets harder to breathe with every passing second. still, he calls out to him.
“alatus—!”
the young yaksha only spares him a golden glance, before slipping the bloodied mask on. “you don’t have to tell me twice.” and he disappears into the air.
you are not there when he reappears at the camp. no one is. everything is on fire, and he can barely see what’s in front of him thanks to all the smoke and ashes polluting the air. he hisses at the burning in his lungs, but he perseveres forward as he strains his ears for any signs of life. the faint clashing of weapons and maniacal laughter is far away, but they grow stronger as he continues.
he steps on something… fleshy. growing dread rises within him as he slowly looks down.
that… is a severed hand.
biting his tongue, he rushes forward through the sea of flames. more and more decapitated limbs and bodies litter the area. arms, legs, torsos, feet… the handiwork of psychopaths, no doubt. because an ordinary soldier would not do this. not to civilians. not to people who could not defend themselves. he sees no face to mourn for. he sees no head to remember.
roars of laughter peal through the air as he braves a wall of fire. as the sky is dyed red with both fire and dawn, alatus’ face pales when he sees the enemies marching around as they shout triumphantly into the chaos.
your head, beautiful as he had always remembered, parades past him on a wooden stake.
when karmic debt takes over, he doesn’t remember anything the next morning when he sobs and cradles your sleeping face, surrounded by the bodies of foes and allies alike.
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in your next life, you are both strangers. he looks high and low for you in liyue, but he does not find you.
celestia orders the seven archons to launch an attack on khaenri’ah, and alatus and whoever is left of the adepti is ordered by rex lapis to stand by in liyue and eliminate any escaped khaenri’ahns. although he has nothing against them, he is more than happy to follow his lord’s commands, because he has nothing else left to do but do his duty.
surely enough, the khaenri’ahns have found some escape route that leads up to liyue. unfortunately for them, alatus and the others are there to massacre them without hesitation.
in one of the escapees, his eyes widen behind his mask as he meets your scared eyes. in this life, they have diamonds in them, and they stare back at him with fear and unfamiliarity rather than mischief and friendliness. he thinks you still look beautiful.
even as he drives a spear through your chest.
when the massacre is finished, he tries to find your body. but there are too many of you, bodies upon bodies and the stench of death heavy in the air. he cannot find you, his pearl, in this bloody sea of corpses.
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years have passed, and he has not seen you since.
well, that would be a bit false. he does see you, but not… you. he does not walk with you in flower fields to admire your face bathed in sunlight nor does he watch you rummage through ruins for scraps of metal and machines. he does not idly chat with you behind bars to pass the time away nor does he help soft bread to your chapped lips as he comforts you with promises of your freedom and your yéyé.
he sees an image of you, the hallucination that his karmic debt has conjured for him in his nightmares. you smile at him ever so sweetly, joining him in his bed at wangshu inn. you’re always so pure and pretty in your nightdress when you sidle up to him to share in his warmth. but when you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, alatus’ eyes shoot wide open as he feels your hand wrap around his neck and squeeze. he should fight, he could fight, but how could he? your face is twisted in hatred and disappointment, whispering to him about his betrayal and failure to save you. ‘you killed me, you left me, you fed me to the dogs.’
how could he fight back, when all you have said is the truth?
and so alatus, now named xiao, wakes up for another day drenched in his sweat and tears.
he is patrolling guili plains when he spots a familiar head of gold and the tinier head of white walking idly through the grasses. it’s not unusual for aether and paimon to be here, but they’ve thoroughly explored and exhausted this area of any treasures, and last he heard they were in fontaine. he hides away in a tree, observing their usual back and forth as they seem to wait for someone.
“like i’m saying, they’re an hour late!” paimon fumes, stomping the air as she throws a tantrum. “what if someone happened to them? oooh, paimon knew we should’ve picked them up from mondstadt! they’re always so clumsy!”
“oh, don’t get your crown in a twist, paimon,” aether says, nonchalant as ever. he glances towards xiao’s way and hums to himself, as if partaking in a fun little secret (he’s always been so perceptive, xiao muses), and takes a bite out of his sunsettia. “geniuses like [your name] are always like that. losing track of time, getting caught up in some curious thing they encountered on their way… they’ll be here soon, promise.” he hands out his half-eaten sunsettia to paimon. “sunsettia?”
“ew, gross! don’t hand paimon your leftovers!”
xiao perks at the familiar name, opening one eye as he lazily ruminates the familiar syllables in his head. [your name], [your name], [your name]... like he could ever forget that. he whispers it in his sleep, prays to your hallucination like a god, screams it every morning… [your name], [your name], [your name]... he watches aether finish his sunsettia and sighs to himself. he shouldn’t be silly. numerous people with your name have appeared in liyue ever since he’s last seen you, and not one of them was you. he shouldn’t get his hopes up.
“— iiii’mmm! so, so sorry!” a sobbed yelp breaks the peace of the plains from the distance. a hefty backpack overshadows the figure carrying it, running as fast as they can with the weight on them. they skid to a stop in front of the traveler and paimon, who greets the newcomer with an amused smile and a huffy face. the backpack ungracefully lands on the grass with a loud clang, and its owner falls alongside it as they try to catch their breath. “i’m so— huff— sorry! i was— hah— on my way here when i— huff— came across a travelling merchant. they had all these goods from fontaine and i— hah— couldn’t resist!”
paimon once again stomps the air. “well, you should try to be more mindful from now on! it’s rude!”
“i’m so~ory,” the eccentric figure whines pitifully. they rummage through their bag and pull out a pretty tin box, the kind used to store cookies. “forgive me, paimon?” in the usual paimon fashion, her eyes twinkle upon seeing the pretty sugar cookies stored inside, and upon the first bite all is finally forgiven.
“hm, is it just me or is someone watching us…?” they wonder, looking around the guili plains for any signs of life. “i feel this, uh, weird pressure. or am i just delusional…?”
when they turn, xiao catches their eyes through the canopy of leaves on the tree he’s occupying. his breath hitches, his eyes widen, and the world seems to halt to a stop.
you unknowingly lock eyes with the adeptus, cocking your head as you try to find the stranger peeking on your little group.
you blink when the pressure is finally gone, and you look back at the highly perceptive traveler in confusion. he only regards you with a small smile and shrugs.
“you’re awfully interested in the engineer, don’t you think?” aether playfully muses as he walks in on one of xiao’s rare times of relaxation. he lounges on wangshu inn’s balcony as he overlooks the scenery beneath him, almond tofu in hand. “why don’t you greet them for yourself then?”
xiao doesn’t spare him a glance as he brings a spoon of the silken food to his mouth. “unnecessary.”
aether rolls his eyes, taking the spot next to xiao as he studies the adeptus with a smile. “don’t be like that, you introvert. you’re always following us around while they go study liyue’s machines. i’m sure zhongli would be pleased to know that you have friends outside of us and the other adepti.” xiao scowls when aether uses his lord as a guilt trip, but doesn’t comment any further. “[your name]’s a wonderful person, if not a bit ditzy at times. i think they and cloud retainer would get aloong quite well if they ever met each other.”
he thinks back to your second life, where you chattered the night away with the crane adeptus about machinery and the like. bathed in the glow of the campfire, alatus would only dare observe from a distance as you talked passionately with stars in your eyes. aether observes as xiao’s eyes soften. “they did.”
the traveller huffs a laugh, slumping his cheek against the wooden railing as he looks out to the scenery too. “reincarnation, huh? there were things like that in other worlds as well.”
he’d never admit it, but he had always been pleased by the fact that aether had the shared experience of living for eras, if not longer. the other adepti were never close to humans, but aether and his sister had always walked alongside mortals in order to observe their stories. xiao lets the wind graze his cheek. “... did you ever have someone you wanted as well?”
“i made many friends but…” aether quirks a small smile, tapping his fingers on the wood lightly. “my sister was really all i needed.” he notes the hidden pain in his voice. “we’ve traversed many worlds together, and we will always have eternity together. but you don’t have someone like that.”
golden eyes meet golden, and xiao shudders at the sly look that aether gives him.
“well, unless you do something to change that.”
‘damn you, aether.’ the traveller’s always been sort of a bastard hiding behind gentle manners and a pretty smile, but he never thought that he’d stoop so low as to awaken the dark feelings that he’s kept repressed for so long. ‘sly dog.’ he makes a mental note to not react when aether calls for him next as some sort of petty revenge.
today, you are alone. your backpack is lighter, thankfully, otherwise you would not be able to travel through the huaguang stone forest’s cliffs and falls. he’s joined you on this journey since you started a few days back, but he continues to grow with paranoia every time he sees you walk too close to the edge. he’s also saved you a few times, summoning wind to stabilize a shaky glide or carrying you further away from the edge when you started rolling in your sleep.
his heart twists when he settles you back in your sleeping bag. he takes in your sleeping face, murmuring nonsense in your sleep, and the sides of his lips tug into an unconscious smile. you’ve always had that habit in the lives that he’s known you in, and he pushes aside the strands of hair to take a clearer look at your face. when the babbling subsides, your dopey grin relaxes itself, and the heartaches begin once again. so many times he’s watched over you like this, but the last time he had was… was when you were…
your face, peaceful and oblivious, overlaps to a bloody, dismembered one. xiao inhales sharply and shakes the image out of his head.
he starts with your cheek, caressing it softly with his calloused fingers as he revels in your warmth. they trace every feature— your fluttering eyelids, the in-betweens of your eyes, your twitching nose— until his thumb presses on your lip. this was not a luxury he could afford back then, but now, now.
‘i can protect you in this world.’ he thinks. his lips brush against yours, but he does not lean in further.
‘all my past transgressions, i will make it up to you.’
you smile in your sleep peacefully, just as you did... so many years ago.
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you appear in xiao’s dream once more.
it starts off the same as always. you are draped in fine liyue silk, batting those innocent eyes at him as you call him to your shared bed. he knows what will happen next, having relieved this for centuries on end. you will crawl upon him, you will wrap those hands around his neck, and you will admonish him. xiao stares at the alluring image of you and does not budge from the foot of the bed.
“[your name], come to me.” your image cocks its head in confusion, but you follow anyway. now that he’s met the real you, he can clearly see the difference. your hair isn’t that shade, your eyes are much too wide and— ah, his image of you has slowly been creeping away from his mind after years of separation. the thought of it twists his heart.
he watches you crawl over to him, tempting and innocent like a newly wed bride. you sit on your knees dutifully, awaiting his next command. he reaches out, strokes your hair— it’s not as soft as this in real life— and smiles darkly.
“i love you, [your name].”
you smile. “i know.”
“i always have. even after all these years.”
“i know.”
your eyes held so much light and passion than this blank-minded image of you. he inhales. “i’ll miss you.”
you furrow your brows, frowning in confusion at the sudden confession. “alatus, what are you talking about—?!”
xiao’s face is unmoving as he watches you choke on your blood, staring up at him wide-eyed as your hands shakily reach up to the spear embedded through your chest. “a– la– tus…?” he does not respond to your weak call, yellow eyes dull as you bloody his spear and heave with every gasp. “wh– how could…?”
“i’ve met you, [your name],” he whispers. he thumbs away the blood trickling from your lips. he breathes in slowly, knocking his head against yours. your image stares at him in betrayal and fear. “in this life, i’ve finally met you.” he feels your image dissipating and he brings you in closer. “finally. after all these years.”
“a… la… tus…”
“this time. this life. i promise you.” he entangles your bloody hand in his and presses a kiss to it. “we will finally be together.”
“no matter what.”
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Text
Initiation
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Dark content warning!
18+, consent for all the wrong reasons, obsession, hentai-style tentacles, Curse!fucking, womb filling, belly inflation, bondage with tentacles, loss of consciousness, loss of virginity
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"You wish to join my...organisation."
A question, framed as a statement. Geto Suguru rolled a small chirping Curse, moving around his long-fingers and pale palm like a bag of animated marbles, as if he was bored. His baggy pants hid how his cock swelled and twitched to life within.
This was his favourite part- the initiation- and you were the most eager little virgin to have flown into his web for quite some time. Though clearly a grown woman, you remained untouched...for now.
You knelt, your sweaty palms pressed flat to your thighs, and you thrummed with excitement. With your idol now so close that you could see every crease in his disarming smile, and every thread vein on the inside of his wrist, you felt sick with anxious delight.
You didn't even notice how you leaned forwards, so eager to please that Suguru's aching arousal jerked against his thigh. He maintained his jovial, softly spoken facade, offering you an indulgent smile as you spoke, your voice wavering.
"I-- I would love nothing more, Geto-sama-- it would be an honour, the highest honour--"
"Quite. We could use your Cursed technique, and your enthusiasm." Suguru stood, now, his socked feet soft upon the tatami mats, stepping, feathersoft and serene, down towards you. You could see the long, heavy swelling of his lap, and your mouth ran dry, your lips parting spontaneously. You clamped your thighs together, throbbing.
When he knelt, your chin in his grasp and his breath over your lips, you thought you may faint, and the barest moan left your stretched throat.
But, Suguru looked tortured, sighing in dramatic resignation. "What a shame that you've been amongst the monkeys your whole life...you still cling to them. I can smell them on you. How could I ever know I could trust you?"
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. Ice water ran down your body, the threat of rejection so close, and you reached up involuntarily, clasping the wrist of the hand that held your chin. Your eyes burned with obsessive fervour, hellfire stoked within.
"Anything, Geto-sama." You strained, your voice thick with sincerity. "I'd do anything for you-- for your organisation-- to prove my loyalty--"
"Anything?" He purred, his strong fingers drifting down your chin to the front of your neck, squeezing the shape of your throat as you swallowed beneath his hand. He cooed in cold comfort.
"You'd do anything, to prove your fealty to me? I'm not an easy man to impress...I could just fuck you, it's true. Truth be told, I wouldn't need your permission, but it does reduce the fun somewhat, knowing you'd spread your cunt open for me so willingly. Deflowering you would be a privilege, I'm sure."
Your vision almost blacked at the edges with promise. Any allusion of appearing respectable fell like broken glass. You felt sorely tempted to dip your fingers between your legs, to pleasure yourself to Suguru's filthy words alone, but you reminded yourself that it was his pleasure you were pledging yourself to.
Suguru saw this; saw your faint, telltale squirms of arousal, as heat pooled in your belly. He hummed, dismissive, looking aside.
"What to do...what to do?"
He clicked his tongue, as if torn by indecision. Still, your throat twitched beneath his hand. Opening your mouth to beg again, you moaned to feel Suguru's thumb dart into your mouth to hold your tongue down.
"I take my pleasure vicariously, little one. I should like to see how far you would demean yourself for me. I should like to see how far your dignity would bend without breaking. Would you like that too, little one?"
You trembled, your knees slipped apart and sloppy, Suguru's hand fixed around your throat with a thumb upon your tongue. You nodded, and nodded again, and again, and again, to Suguru's wan, satisfied huff of mirth.
Up close, his smile was twisted, toxic, and you only wished you knew how right he was, when he surmised that you'd spread yourself for him for just a click of his fingers. You'd let him fuck your virginity away in a heartbeat. You imagined his hand over your mouth as he thrust past your hymen, how he'd catch the shrieks in his hand and devour them like a Curse.
"So you will be fucked, do we agree?"
With no idea to what you consented, you consented instead to your obsession, nodding and nodding again, your splayed fingers clasping at Suguru's robes. He leaned just close enough that he spoke his next words directly against your lips.
"And if you survive, little one...I shall welcome you to my lap with open arms."
Something short-circuited in your brain. Suguru stood, walking away with his back to you, leaving you alone, cold, speechless. You heard a wet, hushed, eldritch rumble to your right, and felt lead drop into your belly.
An enormous, cephalopod Curse, of mottled purple to red ombre, dominated one half of the broad traditional room. Clearly an octopus of eerie origin, its many tentacles tangled and unfurled, its single great, yellow eye rolling and dilating as it fixed on you.
You gasped, scrabbling away, and it grumbled, grasping you by the ankle, and dragging you back across the floor. You shrieked. You heard Suguru chuckle, the palm of his hand lazily pressing across his tenting manhood as the Curse's tentacles gradually wound and twisted around your limbs, ripping your clothes off your body like crepe paper. Every touch left a wet, sticky lubricant on your skin. Suguru toned, low and mild.
"This particular Curse has...desires, as any of us do. I'm sure it would prefer to taste you, over some dirty little monkey, though. And I'd like to watch. You want to give me what I want...don't you?"
You hesitated only briefly, knowing what your answer was. And you couldn't deny (by the time you were bare on the tatami before Suguru, that watching him bite his lip to the image of your naked form being slowly lifted and entwined by shivering, pulsing tentacles) the way it made you throb.
By the time eager little suckers had located your neck, your nipples, and your clit, you arched and mewled with hot little bursts of pleasure. You felt so weightless, lifted and suckled by this hungry beast. By the way it shivered at your taste, leeching off your sex and Cursed energy, the pleasure was not yours alone.
It softened you this way, so that you did not notice how your arms became bound behind your back; so that you did not notice how your legs were folded back and open, into a suspended mating press. A tentacle ran along the length of your sex, its tip teasing against your virgin entrance, as its sucker clasped greedily onto your clit.
The pleasure of its brothers working to suck onto your nipples, tugging and stretching enough to make your toes curl, drew out your moans into pathetic little whimpers. Geto watched as the red and purple limbs wrapping your body writhed harder, and tighter, eager to take their own pleasure, but determined to ensure you were wet and supple enough to take them all.
"G-Geto-sama--" You choked, involuntarily humping with the sucks of the tentacle, making it pulse and shiver, barely resisting sliding inside your tight little hole. Suguru swore under his breath, shuddering, biting one finger between his teeth as the others rested at his temples, his body lying sideways on one elbow.
"Good girl." Suguru hushed, velvet smooth, fucking up against his palm from his spot on the floor. He would have to edge himself carefully, he thought, so he didn't come in his boxers like a boy, at the first moment the tentacle deflowered you. The moment of penetration would be almost too much to bear, even without pleasuring himself in his fist.
"You'll be...full, after this." Suguru mused aloud, hooking his aching cock out to rest against his belly, as your cries of pleasure began to peak. He gripped his fists, the knuckles cracking with the effort of not masturbating himself to completion. "It has quite the volume of semen, from what I have seen it do to the monkey women. You'll ache. Will you take it, for me?"
You nodded, flushed, your eyes half-lidded, breathless in this toxic miasma of pleasure. The speed of the sucks on your clit and nipples increased, and you jerked with the overstimulating pace, not yet at orgasm, but the pleasure harsh enough to make you convulse sharply. The tentacles around you pulsed and shivered, one eager yellow eye and two eager brown eyes fixed on you, watching, waiting.
"O-oohhh f-fuck I'm gonna...gonna come-- gonna come-- o-oooh n-nooooo-- Geto-- haaaah!"
Your orgasm pounded through your bound form with electric intensity. You jerked, convulsing, and the tentacle that sucked on your clit and teased your hymen grew more eager still, pre-cum soaking your entrance to prepare you for its slick penetration.
As you convulsed, humping the limb with guttural groans, you heard Suguru curse again, little jerking spills of pre-cum wetting the hair on his barely exposed belly. He lay back, one arm over his eyes, groaning.
Suguru freed his heated gaze in time to see the tentacle stroke one final time against your entrance, as if licking, tenderising you...before pressing forwards with its tapered tip, thickening so fast as it punched past your virginity to seat itself fully in your pussy.
You arched, screaming against the sudden intrusion. An opportunistic tentacle, bulbous at the tip and thicker than the girthiest cocks you had ever seen in porn, pressed into your open mouth, silencing you into thick gags and swallows.
After a few moments of your pussy clenching, your mouth clenching, your arms pulling involuntarily against the binding limbs...you stilled, supple and used and submissive. With another frisson of delight, the tentacles that were inside you begin to move, thrusting as an eldritch groan of bliss rumbled from the Curse.
You felt every single thrust against your belly, and you twitched, your moans barely audible around the member that pleasured itself with your mouth. A tentacle stretched up, winding itself around your neck to force its extension, and you gagged to feel the arousal fuck deeper. It shivered again, barely able to restrain itself.
Geto had almost ejaculated untouched, to see the tentacle punch through your virginity like it was tissue paper. The cool façade he usually maintained faltered, also paper thin. A drip of sweat crept down his neck as he cursed, releasing his clothes enough to bare his chest, his heavy twitching cock, and his belly tensing with the thrill of edging himself.
"Not innocent anymore, little one...shit...does it feel good? Giving yourself over to my monsters?" The Curse groaned, heavy and gravelly, as if answering for you. Geto swore again as it lined up thinner tendrils to coil around your breasts and nipples, teasing, stretching and flicking them.
You jerked with the sinful pleasure of being used, feeling the tentacles fuck, and fuck, and fuck, up your pussy and down your throat. The yellow eye watched you from below, changing your angle occasionally, as if examining its artwork from all perspectives, relishing in the way you squealed when new limbs began to probe your asshole. A thin one dipped inside, as if testing, before coming out again, making way for a more generous counterpart.
You felt it coat you with its sticky pre-cum, first teasing your asshole with one bulbous cock, before carefully easing the head in. It shuddered at the way your pussy involuntarily clenched and milked it in response, drips of pre-cum beginning to slip out of you to the floor.
Another tentacle, thinner, with breeding intent, had already slid into your cunt alongside its thicker brother, and waited at your cervix for you to climax again, so it could steal its chance.
Suguru could not restrain himself any longer, to watch you be fucked raw in suspension, seeing the way your eyes grew unfocused and your body jerked and trembled. He hissed to feel his fist encircle his cock, stroking slowly, in time with the tentacles that thrust in tandem within you.
"Got to come again, little one. It can't take its satisfaction until you do. Do you want the suckers back?"
You only moaned in response, wet and slurping around the tentacle that used your mouth. Suguru flicked one hand at the Curse, an order, and a sucker promptly resited itself on your clit, to suck you to orgasm as you needed.
You moan was dirtier than any Suguru had ever heard and he had to let go of his cock again with a jolt, lest he spill all over the floor. He swore, biting the back of his fist, feeling his peak almost creep over...before ebbing away again, leaving him panting, gasping.
Suguru fucked up against the air as he felt the final climax approaching, sure you were not ready for the way the Curse would leave you heavy with its seed.
It was as the three limbs fucking within you all sped up, in one final push towards completion, that you fell into another orgasm. The ferocity with which the suckers licked at your clit and nipples had you roaring with pleasure around the limb in your mouth, and as you convulsed, you felt the curious sensation of something thinner and more insistent weedle through your cervix to press its tip into your womb.
Mid-orgasm, you felt yourself go lightheaded with the bizarre, vasovagal physiological response to your cervix being invaded. The world blackened at the edges, and you loosened in the limbs, only semi-conscious. The Curse took its chance...and began to fill you.
The tentacles within you pulsed, alternating and peristaltic, as cum began to pulse through, into you. Lost in a black haze of pleasure, your belly grew warm, then hot, and ached, as the little tentacle within your womb spurted loads of warm cum into it. You jerked, swallowing, and clenching, to feel the same happen in your throat and asshole.
The tentacles continued to gently suckle on your breasts and clit, as if soothing you for what it was doing to you. Excess sticky white cum splashed to the floor, running down your chin, your thighs, little squirts oozing out of the suckers on your nipples and clit.
Your pathetic little mewls, and the way your lower belly stretched outwards, bulging with the cum that filled you, pushed Geto over the edge. With two final fucks into his pre-cum wetted fist, he came with hushed curses, praising you with liquid mercury.
"--good girl-- shhhh...take it for me, that's it, filthy girl...take it...shhhit, take it..."
You came back online slowly, aching, your belly cramping as if on your period. The Curse lowered you to the floor with surprising tenderness. As it withdrew its tentacles from your prone, whimpering body, one great limb softly stroked your bloated belly. The Curse groaned, retreating and satisfied, but not before one tentacle stretched out to offer you an affectionate little boop on the nose.
As you lay on the tatami, bare, shivering, and impossibly full of cum, Geto swallowed down the Octopus Curse, his hand and belly still sticky with his own seed. He sighed as though he had just performed some wearing duty, and cast you a look of languid satisfaction.
"...you are welcome here, little one."
Geto smirked. The last thing he heard from your babbling mouth, as his staff dragged you from the room towards the baths, was you thanking him weakly, with a cum-filled mouth, for his acceptance.
Another cult member bowed before Geto, his forehead not even rising from the floor as he spoke.
"Are--are you ready for the next one, Geto-sama?"
Suguru smiled, sharkish, perusing a mental Rolladex for a Curse of choice.
"Yes." Geto sighed, stretching, tucking his cock away and wiping his hands on the back of the flinching cult members' robes. "Send her in."
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hoe4hotchner · 2 days
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Backgammon | [A.H]
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Gn!reader CW: Fluff.
WC: 0.4k
@ssaaaronmontgomery Tagging you cause we talked about this fic earlier 😉
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           It was a quiet evening at home, the kind where no pain or case could end it, just for a little while. You sat cross-legged on the living room floor, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating the backgammon board between you and Aaron. The warmth of the room made everything feel peaceful, this was your little pocket of calm amidst the usual chaos of Aaron's job.
           Aaron was focused, as he always was - his brow slightly furrowed as he studied the board. He made his move with a calculated accuracy, sliding his piece across the triangles. You couldn't help but smile at how seriously he took it, even in moments like these.              “Your move,” he said, looking up at you with that soft smile of his you only got to see.
             You grabbed the dice, shaking them in your hands dramatically just to see him roll his eyes, but you caught the hint of amusement in his expression as you whispered a wish to the dice of what number you wanted them to land on.
           “You always do that,” he said, a chuckle in his voice.              “Well, I like to build suspense.” You grinned, tossing the dice onto the board. They clattered across the surface, landing on a six and a four. You moved your pieces, biting your lip as you carefully plotted your next move.              Aaron was watching you with patience, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He loved these little moments of competition between the two of you, even if it was something as simple as a quick game of Backgammon whenever your lives permitted you the chance. It gave him a chance to ground himself.              “You’re going down, Hotchner,” you teased, making your final move with a flourish.              He raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting as he challenged you. “Oh, really? We’ll see about that.”              As the game went on, you found yourself leaning in closer, caught up in the friendly competition. Eventually, he made his final move, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And that’s game.”              You groaned, falling back dramatically onto the floor. “I was so close!”              Aaron leaned over, hovering above you with a teasing smile. “You’ll get me next time,” he said, his voice was warm and affectionate. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you couldn’t help but smile, even in defeat wrapping your arms around his torso to steady you as you pulled yourself up.              “We’ll see,” you muttered, already plotting your revenge for the next game.
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moirindeclermont · 2 days
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Thank you for all the feel better wishes... I'm not out of it but at least I don't have a fever, so 50/50. But believe it or not, I did end up thinking about tonight's episode of "all Polin's first times we didn't see", specifically Colin being sick and Pen has to take care of him (tomorrow I'll do Pen's too)
Thing is, Colin is an absolute baby when he is sick. He is in bed, feverish, and he can't lose sight for his wife for a second.
"Pen, where are you going?";
"Pen, I need you"; "Pen, please stay here"; and she ends up writing in their bedroom, because Colin is insufferable otherwise. She sends away his valet, she is enough to deal with this (although secretly she loves taking care of him).
Then, he starts to request thing. "Can you ask my mother to bring some of Cooks soup?", "Can you make the sun not so bright?" And he is always so dramatic about it.
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"I can't eat Pen, I'm going to die soon," as if half of his siblings didn't get it already and are fine now (she has to as Kate though if Anthony is such a big baby as well).
"Pen I can't sleep," he is saying and she goes to sit on the bed next to him. "I'll stay here with you for a while, it's that okay?"
He whines. "Can you get on top me?"
"Why?"
"I want a wife-shaped blanket," and she looks at him "really, Colin?"
He just looks at her with his best puppy eyes.
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"Okay okay," she dressed down to her chemise and gets on top of him, "I'm sure it's not a comfortable way to sleep, Colin" but he just sigh in contentment.
"That's perfect, Pen. Thank you"
Turns out they both fall asleep in minutes.
They woke up in the same position, Colin's erection poking her.
"Really, Colin?"
"I don't think I can do much, but the flash is willing Pen"
She takes her chemise out, Colin's hand goes to her chest but she slaps him out of it "you are sick, rest" and, for once, he obeys her. She takes his peen out, returning to her blanket position to use her hips to stimulate them both, until she is wet enough that it slips into her without effort. They both moan at that.
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Their movements are slow and deep, Colin can only graps her hips but does nothing to increase the speed or the pressure. They could literally stay like that forever. It's Pen that, after a while, does stand up and fast things up... Until he comes inside her with a whine.
"Pen, come here,I'll make you come," but she just laugh at him "you can't even breath, Colin. Don't worry about it. I'll take of myself and when I get sick you get to return the favor."
He is already sleeping by the time she finish that sentence (she does take care of it quickly on her own, finally she had time to write!)
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redzevousv · 2 days
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DEADPOOL’S EXCLUSIVE FAN-SERVICE P.1 — WADE WILSON.
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RATING: R, 18+
WARNINGS: Sexual content, fem reader, bondage, sexual innuendos, explicit language.
WORD COUNT: 965
SUMMARY: Captured and restrained, you find yourself at Deadpool's mercy after revealing you intentionally hired him for some intimate fan-service.
A/N: First writing of mine that I'm posting to my page, please don’t judge me too hard! I will be regularly posting more Deadpool content as I revise my page. Will be posting part two of this work when I have the time.
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You look up at him, panting, still strapped to the chair with your hands tied tightly behind your back. The rough rope digs into your wrists, the slight burn adding to the ache between your legs. The air is thick with tension, every breath tasting metallic from the cold barrel of the gun pressed to your temple. Your body, slick with sweat from the chase, feels confined in the damp fabric clinging to your skin.
“You know, all this chasing, tying me up, gun to my head, it’s precisely what I imagined,” you say, your voice trembling with anticipation. Deadpool tilts his head, his fingers flexing around the gun, the leather of his gloves creaking faintly. His scent—leather, metal, gunpowder—intoxicating you with arousal.
He chuckles softly, leaning in just enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your cheek. “Imagined? Got a little death wish fantasy going on here?” His voice is smooth, laced with a hint of sarcasm.
You laugh shakily, struggling to catch your breath. “Not exactly, though, I am the one who hired you.” The words leave your lips boldly, tasting like victory. For a second, you wonder if this is too crazy, even for him, but you press on, heart pounding.
Deadpool pauses, his gaze narrowing even through the mask. His entire posture shifts, boots scuffing the ground as he takes a step back. “Wait, you’re the one that called?!” His voice is thick with disbelief, pointing a finger at you accusingly. “Is that why your voice sounds so familiar?” The sudden shift in his tone sends a thrill through you.
“Yes, that was me,” you admit, almost proud. Your voice is husky as you try to steady your breathing. The ropes chafe against your wrists as you squirm, your skin burning where it rubs. “What better way to get some exclusive fan-service, right?.” You can’t help but let your eyes trail down his body, the tight red suit accentuating every muscle. God, he’s so fucking hot.
Deadpool stands silent, processing your words. Then he bursts into laughter, nearly doubling over. “Oh my god, you actually hired me to kill you just for this little rendezvous? Holy shit girl, you crazy!”
He leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. The heat of his body radiates against yours as he lowers his pistol to his side. “You do realize there are easier ways to ask a guy out, right?” His voice drops to a teasing whisper, and the proximity makes you squirm, the ropes biting into your wrists again. “Just throwing that out there.”
You bite your lip, feeling your breath hitch as your eyes drop to the zipper below his belt. The suit clings to him in all the right ways, the fabric shifting with every slight movement, making it hard to focus. “I’m not hiring you to take me out,” you murmur, voice thick with desire. “I’m hiring you to take me.”
Deadpool freezes for a heartbeat, his eyes narrowing as realization washes over him. Then, with a slow, exaggerated movement, he gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his mouth. “Oh, I see what this is, you dirty little slut!” The mocking tone in his voice, his teasing, sends heat pooling between your thighs. “Gotta admit though, I’m impressed, that’s some next-level commitment right there.”
He places a hand on his hip, still holding the gun in the other. His stance is almost cocky, and even though the mask hides his expression, you can practically feel his grin. “Listen, I’m flattered, but do I look like a hooker to you?! Hate to break it to ya, but I don’t charge by the hour, sweetheart.”
You give him a pleading look, your body tingling with anticipation, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. “Pretty please” you beg, voice breathless as you shift in the ropes. “Consider it a bonus from your biggest fan, yeah?” Your eyes meet his, the tension between you almost crackling now.
He stares at you, fingers playing idly with his gun, weighing his options. The soft click of metal against metal fills the air as he contemplates. “Not every day I meet a fan who’s this determined to get in my pants,” he muses, his voice teasing but edged with a slight seductiveness.
He looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on your body, the way you’re tied up, chest rising and falling with every desperate breath. “Plus, I do love a good bonus,” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. Finally, with a dramatic sigh, Wade holsters his gun, the sound of the weapon sliding into its sheath sends a shiver down your spine.
“Fuck it, I’ll give you what you want, but only because I admire your sheer, unhinged dedication.” He steps closer, his gloved fingers tracing the ropes binding you to the chair. The leather brushing against your skin made your body tremble.
With a swift motion, he cuts through the ropes securing you to the chair. You feel the sudden release of tension as the bindings fall away, leaving your body free, though your hands remain tied behind your back. He knows exactly what he’s doing, leaving you like that.
“Now, down you go, sweet girl,” he says, voice low and commanding. His hands grip your shoulders, pushing you slowly down to the floor. The rough wood presses against your knees, and you look up at him, your heart pounding.
“On your knees.” His voice is husky, almost a growl, and you feel a thrill of excitement run through you as he watches you, a hint of amusement in his eyes behind the mask. He thought it was about time he deserved some compensation for all his hard work—other than money, of course.
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@redzevousv - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, but I do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied.
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manzaza · 16 hours
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perirep with airpods promoting mY WHOLE REVIEW OF THE NEW WISH SOUNDTRACK BECAUSE OHHHHH MY GOD IT GOES SO SO SO HARD (under cut feel free to listen here (also on apple music + yt do in fact give it a listen please yay) !!)
theme song (all the singing songs)
— although i can never truly let go of the og the new theme song will always be a bop
— so upbeat, so happy !!!
new yorkity york
— hazel’s va is such an amazing singer PLEASE if there’s a season 2 give them a musical episode there are not enough musicl numbers
party possum’s friendship song
— better than the chuck e cheese one i heard in the theater earlier lollllllll
— the live band version ate i liked the difference
— unhinged version was so fun the nickelodeon drummer ate up
lovely love song
— still haven’t watched this episode (i was shopping when it aired oops)
— hazel was so silly idk what happens i just remember cupid being there (idk if he was in this at the end that might’ve been hazel’s dad)
i love fries
— HAZEL’S VA SLAYING AGAIN !!!!!
— banger song so real live laugh love fries
— cosmo + wanda contributed yay let them sing
time loops
— addiction,,,,, brainrot even,,,,,,,,,
— cosmo and wanda singing yayyy !!!
— the actual little yay at the end was so silly got a good chuckle
proud of my son — dubstep remix
— this was actually the funniest thing to watch i had this episode pulled up in a panera’s and i was just staring at it like “bro just took over the world for THIS”
— dev is ten so it does make sense
— almost
a new wish (yay background music !!)
— i love all the jazz in the ost just soooo so good
— reminds me of a sam and max kinda intro
— listening to this + the rest just makes me want a video game for ANW so so bad it would genuinely be so much fun to play (will genuinely plot out a tumblr post for this idea)
fly hazel
— banger warmup vibes in the intro
— love how some of the insteuments give like a fly-feeling gimmick (cause she’s a fly)
— little intro chord at the very end eats up
teacher’s pal
— might be one of my fav tracks
— nickeloxeon pianist and saxophonist are eating uppp
— 1:15 was so good
— nickelodeon symphony when
fearless
— somewhat out of place but still fits in with the show vibes
— very lurking
— fnaf 3 am jumpscare (idk i see more poppy playtime in this despite never watching or knowing anything about poppy playtime
— very cheerful kinda scary at the end (yay jasmine!!!)
wellingston hotel
— i rlly like hotel music play this at a marriott hotel NOW
— still haven’t seen this episode (i’m dying to watch it i need to see winn’s introoooo)
— sudden rich person music change
— love you nickelodeon saxophonist !!!!
dev dimmadome
— classic dev intro
— 0:54 is so cruel just label this project h whyyyyyyyy
— just sheer pain in the middle but then they remebered at the end “oh yeah he’s ten”
— it gets so intense at 1:30 broooooo
fairy heist
— i love spy music
— little dev-ness in the middle with the certain gimmick in his track (i might be crazy for this one but idk the “waeahwow” reminded me of something from his track + i think this was in the breaking into school scene idk)
prime meridian love
— literal anime ost
— eats with the dramatic intro
— it faintly reminds me of an ok ko track but just slightly at the beginning of some of the melodies idk might be crazy for this one too
peri and irep
— no way.
— actually no way.
— ship interacts once and they get their own song.
— the twist at the beginning of the track was so hype like the beat is just constantly at odds during this song (and because i’m just like that i have the track times put down too when they swap)
— to not make this any longer the noticeable parts after their intros are like 0:50–1:02 is peri-sounding and then 1:03–1:18 is irep-sounding and from then on their themes are always at a clash with more differences spotted at the end
— will say i love irep’s part at 0:32 and 1:03 that’s so funnnn ahh
— the little villainous laugh at like 1:50 was silly
— the little theme at 3:00 ahhh !!!!!
— might be another fav……. yeah def another fav my airbuds says so
viozalea
— feels so medieval at first and i love it
— quick just like viozalea’s appearance (rip)
rattlleconda
— fire western theme
— still in character with the show the beat was firee
— the soft violin gahhh sheer joy
— intense pressure put on at the end ate
love and games
— rock paper scissors core
— me when rock paper scissors
— wait i actually never watched the valentines episode
— uhhhhhhh second half might be rock paper scissors
— BANGS
— love u Nickelodeon drummer
battle of wands (FINALE)
— shut up this is too glorious of a melody
— ok intense
— oh might’ve just hit one million wishes idk how this song is following the episode
— the chaos in the rhythm eats
— littlt theme at 2:30 aghhhh won
— peri lying dead right after again idk how the episode paces through songs i can spot little scenes here and there
— banged
— little clock beat ahh the happiness
— can’t even tell what happened but good finale
OVERALL i really enjoyed the soundtrack i love how it tries and takes you through the course of the episode and it’s so so fun!! almost feels like video game music sometimes which is so so good for them like YES drop a new wish video game it would be so good !!!!
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prince-jjae · 17 hours
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In My Imagination. ㅡ h.k. [ceilings. pt2]
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pairing;
huening kai/gn!reader
genre;
FLUFF. so much fluff. smut. mdni!!! i know i said itd be angsty but im a liar.
tags;
barista!reader, implied jealous taehyun, barista!taehyun, beomgyu being a sassy mf, daydreaming, plushie humping, coming untouched, masturbating, facefucking(mentioned as a daydream), mentions of aftercare, so much fluff omg.
part 1. tyun ending. masterlist.
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summary;
"but that look in your eyes, and that smile it makes me want to stay here in this room.. pretending youre pretending too."
hueningkai was never really one for intense, whirlwind romances, but he just couldnt help himself with you. you, who stared up at him with shocked eyes, as if his very presence was the answer to your every prayer. when you looked at him like that, how could he not fall madly in love with you?
Ever since that first fateful morning, Huening Kai made it a staple of his routine to order coffee from your shop every day. He would wait in line, an unknown antsy feeling clawing up his spine as he bounced on the balls of his feet. He was impatient, but blissfully unaware of the reason why. 
He tried not to read too much into it, but he knew you were the cause. How could you not be, when you stumbled over your words and actions whenever he got close? You lit up the room brighter than any sun, and he was firmly convinced that science had it all wrong. 
The world didn't revolve around the sun. it revolved around you.
You, with your cold exterior and sharp gaze that melted even the slightest bit, warmed by his presence, sizzled under his touch. He kept plausible deniability, at first. Just brushes of his fingertips against yours as he paid or when you handed him his drink with the same phrase as always.
“Have a good day.” And have a good day, he did. He doesnt think hes ever experienced days so good in his life until now.
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It had been around 2 weeks of this routine and 4 days of relentless teasing from his roommate beomgyu, when it happened.
The dreams.
It started as nothing, really, at first. Just daydreaming of actually mustering up the courage to have a conversation with you for once. Something beyond just ordering egg tarts and a coffee. What were your interests? What did you like, dislike, love, hate? He wanted to know everything, so naturally his mind filled in the blanks.
He daydreamed, nearly constantly. Always about you, always about how your voice felt like heavy whipping cream, drowning him in the sweetest of marshmallow fluff. He could listen to you talk for hours. He supposed he had, in a way, since he fantasized about you so often.
It was around a month after your first meeting with him that the dreams became more than just conversations he wished he could have. They morphed into romantic fantasies. Your hands were so soft, the few times he barely ghosted his fingers to your skin. He wondered what it'd feel like to hold them properly? To warm them after a day of playing in the snow? To swing between your bodies after watching a movie at the cinema?
And your lips.. the plushness of them, the way they formed around words and made them sweet no matter the context. God, he wondered how sweet they would taste. How soft would they feel against his own? Would they make him sweet by sheer contact?
He sat, sipping his coffee, egg tarts long since finished as he stared out the café window. He desperately wanted to stare at you, instead, but anytime he caught himself, your intimidating coworker was glaring pure death directly at him. It was startling enough to deter him.. but only physically. Mentally, he couldn't be deterred by God himself, he thought. Your being haunted him in the sweetest of ways, clinging to his skin and singing in his veins like a poison. 
“This cannot be healthy, dude. Just fuckin talk to them? Why drag me here if you're just gonna gawk?” Beomgyu huffed, bottom lip pulling into a dramatic pout as he slumped in his seat. He poked at his empty coffee cup, scowling at it with disdain. The two had definitely been here too long, and Beomgyu was itching to go home already.
Kai frowned, taking another long sip of his cold coffee, letting the silence between them stretch until Beomgyu shifted uncomfortably. Satisfied, Kai opened his mouth to reply with a hushed whisper.
“I'll talk to them, eventually.. I just wanted to treat you to coffee.” Came his reply. It was a lame excuse, if it could even count as an excuse to begin with. Beomgyu's eyes narrowed in challenge as he sat forward, pointing an accusing finger at Kai.
“you need to stop being such a pussy. You didn't drag me here to treat me and we both know it.” Kai's shoulders sagged in defeat, stealing a glance your way only to catch your coworkers eyes again. He promptly broke eye contact and blinked at Beomgyu, a nervous blush rising to his cheeks. Beomgyu just smirked at the pathetic reaction, head tilting to the side cockily. “See? Pussy.”
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It had been four months after your first interactions when his dreams shifted.. again.
No longer were they sickeningly sweet, bringing a pretty flush to his cheeks. No, now they brought a flush to his cheeks in a different way. Now he buried his head in his hands, desperately willing the thoughts to go away when in public. But in private? He reveled in them. 
He had always collected plushies, adorable varieties of characters piled onto his bed and shelves, but now he viewed their innocence in a.. different light. Now, all he could think of when he saw the black cat plushie was you. Your initial indifference, your subsequent innocence and sleek beauty. 
He couldn't help it. You did this to him, after all. He was desperate, whining and puffing out meaningless apologies to the black plush below him as he rutted into it. He was desperate. Every movement was fueled by a different memory of you. The way your glasses slid down your nose, the way said nose would crinkle when you laughed. The way you would roll your eyes at a lame joke your coworker told you, the way youd poke your tongue out of your mouth when you focused on making coffees.
God help him, that tongue. That was what he fantasized about the most, these days. How would it feel to tangle your tongue with his? How would it feel to become so intimate with you, so sloppy that drool pooled and spilled over your lips and chin. He wondered how talented that tongue would be when he stuffed your face with his cock. God, what a thought. Choking on it, your pretty whines.. Would your eyes roll back? Would you moan around him? Would you get so aroused by the action of him fucking your pretty mouth that youd drip all over the floor?
His hips stuttered, pretty whines and a long, drawn out moan falling from his lips as he came. It matted the fur of the poor plushie under his hips, but he couldnt focus on that. No, he was still deep in his daydreams, imagining how hed take care of you, how he'd be so gentle with you.. guide you to the bathroom to clean you up, perhaps even carry you if you asked-
Twenty minutes later, he decided the stickiness was too much to bear. Once he was clean, he took the walk of shame to the laundry room, plush cat tucked in his arms to hide the sin he had spilled on them. But when he looked up at met Beomgyu's eyes in the living room, Kai knew his secret was no longer his own.
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It was six months after your first meeting when he finally got the confidence to talk to you. God, he was right. You were everything he dreamed youd be. You were hilarious, your deadpan humor making him laugh harder than he ever had before in his life. He chatted with you while you washed the counters, swept the floors, made coffees. You had a closing shift today, and he had been there since the morning, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He spent the whole day talking to you, about everything he ever wanted to talk to you about. He learned your hobbies, your likes, dislikes, hatreds and passions. You were perfect. 
The two of you had been so engrossed in one another that the store was closing before you both realized. Not even the glare of your coworker – Taehyun, he learned – could sway him. He smiled, bright as ever when he glanced outside, seeing it was dark out. You were locking up the store, Taehyun was already halfway to his own car when he spoke up.
“I could walk you to your car, if you'd like? it's dark out…” He trailed, eyeing you for any potential discomfort. It melted into a pleasant smile after you nodded, inviting him along for the short walk. You two walked slowly, however, not yet wanting to separate just yet. He was infatuated, worse than he initially thought. Maybe Beomgyu was right, he was in love with you. He was entirely, wholeheartedly in love with a perfect stranger. And perhaps it was selfish of him when he asked for your number, clinging to hope that you were just as enamored as he was. 
And maybe it was the look in your eyes when you handed his phone back to him, your number saved in his phone with a pretty typed out heart next to your name; maybe it was the sweetness of the coffee still on his tongue.. but he really hoped you were dreaming of him, too.
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best-iwtv-scene · 7 hours
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ROUND 1B, MATCH 5
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Descriptions/Propaganda under the cut:
Pre-abduction drinks (2x06)
An unspecified amount of time after Madeleine becomes a vampire, she and Claudia return to Paris to meet with Louis and Armand at a cafe. The pair seem content with each other, Madeleine clearly at peace with her vampire nature, and Claudia happier than ever with her companion. Louis, still uneasy after Claudia leaving, is protective of the younger vampire, questioning Madeleine to make sure she is prioritising Claudia like he never quite could. Madeleine can feel Louis's love for both Claudia and Armand through her connection to him, telling both vampires this, which Louis laughs off. He clearly wishes to be happy that Claudia is finally content, but is still in an unsettled place, following Madeleine's turning. Finally, Armand leaves the group to "take a stretch", standing outside as Santiago and several other members of the coven stride into the cafe to abduct Louis, Claudia and Madeleine, restraining them and pushing them into large bags. This scene is a rare moment of joy in the show, bittersweet for viewers due to the dramatic irony of knowing Claudia's fate is looming. "We're going to wander." "Wander? This one? She of the straight line to the next 'X' on the map?" "This is the 'X', Louis."
Propaganda:
No propaganda was submitted for this scene.
"Can I cry and say that I’m sorry, too?" (2x07)
Enraged by Lestat's apology to Louis for dropping him from the sky, Claudia stumbles onto her feet, despite the deep cuts into her ankles. She shouts at Lestat, the coven and the audience at the injustice of this 'trial', condemning Louis and her for killing a man who is so clearly still alive. After her anger dissipates, she is left with an emptiness, understanding and finally articulating the pain that she has felt throughout her vampiric life: she has never been prioritised by either Louis or Lestat, and the trial certainly isn't going to change that. This scene also highlights the grace given to Lestat, a white man, both in the show and in the fandom, compared to Claudia, a black woman, as Lestat is so often forgiven easily while Claudia is either made to 'earn' this forgiveness or never given it in the first place. She can cry and apologise all she wants but she is not viewed in the same lenient way as Lestat is. The scene is scored by an unreleased track which incorporates elements of Claudia's theme, most intense when she looks back at Louis, highlighting the pair's uneven relationship. "Don't know why I bother. You didn't come here for me. One more round in the stormy romance of you two! Never been about me. I was just a roof shingle that flew off of your house."
Propaganda:
No propaganda was submitted for this scene.
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severin-photocopy · 20 days
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meeting situationship in the near future. pray for my soul.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month
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Hello Madam. Sorry Madam.
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confessedlyfannish · 6 months
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Writing Prompt #12
Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.
Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.
Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.
While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.
These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".
There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—
"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.
But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.
He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.
"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.
"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.
"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.
He doesn't look away from the man.
"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."
"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.
The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.
The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"
Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."
"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."
He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.
"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.
"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.
"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."
"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.
"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."
"Him."
"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."
"Why me?"
"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."
This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.
"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"
"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."
Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."
"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."
"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."
"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."
"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."
"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.
"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.
"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."
"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."
"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."
Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.
Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.
"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."
The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.
"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.
"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."
"I have more than one."
"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."
"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"
There is a pause.
"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."
"Resolve what?"
"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."
"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."
Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."
The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."
"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."
"They will have already muzzled him."
Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.
"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."
"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—
Clack!
"sluuuuurp!"
"Master Timothy, honestly!"
"Sorry Alfred!"
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jicklet · 11 days
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moonhibs · 10 months
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I just feel like she hopes she'll become someone better but cries knowing she won't.
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