#low impact diamonds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hopelesslygaysstuff · 3 months

Text

pairing: past wanda maximoff x fem!reader / present natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: When you see Wanda again after the secret relationship you shared during your college years, you realize the lasting impact she had on you. Haunted by flashbacks of your time together, you struggle to reconcile the memory of the Wanda you once knew with the woman she has become a decade later.

content warnings: angst, homophobia, a few homophobic slurs, internalized homophobia, heartbreak and grief, some smut, tragedy

word count: 7.1k+

Masterlist

A/N: This is heavily inspired by the song Us. By Gracie Abrams ft. Taylor Swift. I would recommend listening to it simply because it is a masterpiece and the foundation of this fic.

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

The Secret of Us

“Babe, are you ready?”

Green eyes peek around the doorframe, delicate fingers working a dangling diamond studded earring through a slightly reddened ear. There’s a gentle smile on Natasha’s face, a strand escaping her perfectly curled hair and falling somewhat in front of her face. It brushes softly against her cheek, a sharp exhale moving it as a wince appears on her face.

“Here, let me,” you say, curling a single finger in her direction. You place your makeup brushes onto the vanity in front of you, your fingers gentle as you pluck the earring from Natasha’s hand.

It’s a beautiful piece. The golden metal is dainty, yet solid, woven into complex swirls that catch the dying rays of sunshine streaming in from your window. Your hands are careful, threading the earring through her skin like a seamstress, with confidence that comes from years of practice and love woven into each measured touch.

“Perfect,” you mutter. You both know you’re not just talking about the earring.

Natasha smirks at you, full of confidence that is only slightly contrasted by the pink flush rising to her cheeks. You laugh slightly, the sound low and full of warmth as you turn back towards the mirror.

Strong hands rest lightly on your shoulders as Natasha’s fingers firmly rub circles into your skin. You can feel the tight knots give away beneath her ministrations and sigh in relief as you brush highlighter onto the highest point of your cheekbones. Green eyes track your movements lazily, taking you in like it's the first time she’s seeing you. You find it quite romantic and tell her just as much.

“Well,” the bright smile on Natasha’s face shines through the word, “That was my goal, detka.”

A soft shove from you has Natasha’s hands wrapping around your own as she pulls you to your feet. You sway slightly, blinking against the headrush that comes from changing positions too quickly. Arms wrap around your waist as strong as the pull of gravity, unwavering and inevitable.

“You look beautiful,” Natasha murmurs, her lips brushing yours.

“Compared to you, I am nothing.” The words flow from your lips easily, the truth of them lying comfortably under your skin, feeling like the steady weight of a cat curled up on your chest. You kiss away any protests, your tongue swiping against hers when she tries to speak.

“We should go,” Natasha manages to say, the words separated with the firm kisses she places against your lips. “We’re about to run late, and I know you hate it when people are inconsiderate with their timing.”

You nod against her, your hands squeezing her waist gently as you breathe deeply through your nose, unwilling to part your lips from hers.

“Sweetheart.”

Natasha’s tone is firm, her hand pressed against your sternum as she pushes you away. It's gentle, almost hesitant. You know that if you pressed back against it, she would crumble like a sandcastle at high tide. It's for that very reason that you don’t, not wanting to disrupt her carefully planned evening.

“Lead the way, my love.”

—

You find yourself hanging from Natasha’s arm, feeling every bit like a trophy. Shining, and put on the highest shelf, gazes sliding appreciatively over you before moving on to the next impressive thing. You wonder how long it will be before the dust begins to collect.

A man, standing close to your wife. His fingers twitch, his eyes glancing dismissively at you. He’s talking just a bit too loud for the short distance between him and Natasha, and you feel a white-hot rage rising before you take in the fake smile plastered across her face.

It's too wide, showing too many teeth and yet not enough at the same time. Her eyes are sharp, the soft crow’s feet that normally appear at the edges nowhere to be found. The pressure of her fingers against your waist grounds you, leaving you feeling every bit like a rock standing solidly against the crashing waves.

The man moves on, loses interest. You don’t mind. The memory of him is already floating away, being replaced by the soft look Natasha is sending your way. You feel shiny again, not a speck of dust in sight.

Dragging your eyes around the room, you let yourself get lost in the sea of bodies.

Natasha had brought you to some important work event. It was essentially a party, disguised under layers of professionalism in celebration of a multi-million dollar partnership with their rival company.

There was an undercurrent of tension, being slowly filtered into a sort of understanding and grudging respect. The alcohol probably helped.

A woman’s laughter rang around the room. The tension in the air shuddered and released its hold slightly.

You amend your statement. The alcohol definitely helped.

Lazily, you return your gaze to the room. Natasha is slowly walking you towards the center of the room, leading you with gentle touches at your waist. You feel every bit like a lamb, awkward with growing limbs as it is shepherded into a crowd.

Bouncing around the room, your eyes take in the multitude of people. Features start to blur together. A pointed nose, blue eyes almost hidden under thick eyeliner, shimmering dresses that catch the light and make your head spin.

Your eyes catch on brunette hair. Soft, flowing like a calm river on a warm summer's day.

Startling slightly, you blink, a memory dredging its way to the front of your brain like molten lava, slow and inevitable.

Brunette hair, falling effortlessly over strong shoulders. The scent of vanilla washing over you and enveloping you like a well-known embrace. Green eyes sparkling down at you as soft lips move. You focus, dragging your eyes away from the perfectly manicured nails softly brushing against your desk.

“Mind if I sit here?”

A feeble shake of your head, and rapid blinking as you attempt to return the moisture lost to wide-eyed staring back into your eyes.

She’s beautiful.

Her words are kind, a small smile seemingly locked into place on her lips as she regards you. Green eyes roam your face, lingering around your lips for just a second too long.

“I’m Wanda.”

The memory slams into your skull, reverberating painfully around as you feel an age-old, nearly forgotten crack in your heart reopen. It takes your breath away, the weight in your chest feeling like a paperweight, settling down on the last few pages of a story full of loss and anguish.

Natasha’s speaking to someone, her raspy voice filtering through your ears. It’s nothing like the cadence of melted butter you still sometimes hear in your dreams. It's different, better. You wonder when the lies will morph into a semblance of truth.

You take a deep breath, letting those thoughts slide back to where they belong. In the back of your mind, locked away and left to be forgotten. It wouldn’t do you any good to dwell on the past, with its looming, crumbling chess pieces that dance around you in a game that you don’t quite understand the rules of.

“Ah, fuck.” Comes Natasha’s voice, the words mumbled directly in your ear.

You twist your head, shaking it free of cobwebs sticky with memory as you take in your wife. Her eyes are locked on something across the room, the faint furrow of her brows the only sign of displeasure etched on her face. Her lips are moving, mumbling something about an important blah blah man blah blah, rich and influential at her rival company blah blah…

Smiling slightly, you hide your amusement with practiced ease as you turn your gaze towards the man, no, a couple heading your way. Your eyes barely register the neatly parted blonde hair of a tall man, his eyes locked on Natasha with a calculating sort of look in them before your eyes slide over to the woman on his arm.

Fuck, indeed.

Your heartbeat rushes through your ears, a dull ringing cascading through them as you feel your breath catch. Everything has gone numb, or cold, or tingly. You’re not really sure. Everything is too much and the room is too hot even as goosebumps rise on the surface of your exposed flesh. You suddenly see yourself in a third-person view, your mind projecting outside your body as you go rigid at the sight of her.

Wanda Maximoff.

Green eyes, brighter and lighter than the ones you stared lovingly into at the altar. Her gaze flickers over to you, not fully meeting your eyes, a forced sort of dissonance playing out briefly on those perfect features before she focuses on Natasha.

Another memory slams into you, rising unbidden from the depths of your mind before you can stop it.

Soft laughter, echoing around the room before it's absorbed by the four walls surrounding you. Green eyes, smiling at you before returning their focus to the pen and paper in front of her.

Wanda writes something down, your eyes tracing the elegant script that flowed easily from her fingertips. Something scratches at the back of your mind, a tendril of something fond, warm. It feels like coming home, future impressions of familiarity beginning to take root.

“Let me see,” you’re saying, moving closer. Your hands reach for the book. No, it's a leather-bound journal. You’d picked them out earlier, after walking to the store with Wanda from your English literature class.

“No, oh my god,” Wanda was saying, giggles erupting from her as she half-heartedly wrestled the journal away from you. Her hand lands on your knee, her cheeks a little too flushed. It reminds you of the cherry she’d eaten earlier, licking the whipped cream from her milkshake off before smiling and sucking the fruit into her mouth.

Her hand stills, awkward and stiff for a moment. You don’t comment on it, shifting your body weight to be slightly closer to her. The warmth from her palm spreads through your body like a slow creek, new and small and promising bigger currents down the road.

“Let me read yours out loud and I’ll let you read mine,” you offer, taking her journal gently and placing yours in her lap.

“It’s just poetry,” the words flow from your lips, but you know it’s more than that. It’s the very contents of your soul, laid bare for her to see, wrapped under layers of grammar and careful wording. It’s a confession, it’s a sin, it’s something twisting and beautiful and as graceless as a newborn foal. Her eyes meet yours, your thoughts reflected back at you as her fingers twitch slightly on your knee.

Wanda’s hand takes your journal, those green eyes skimming the words as her lips move silently.

You don’t look away, you can’t look away. Her hair is falling over her shoulder, as delicate and soft as the words written before you. There’s a palpable tension in the air, low and thumping like a familiar heartbeat.

Green eyes, flickering back to you. Something behind them that you can’t interpret. You feel like she can see your every thought, the very contents of your being laid out before her as she analyzes each individual piece. It’s frightening and it’s intoxicating, and you look away.

You’re reading her words now, the sentences flowing and mashing together in your mind as you pluck the strings of her mind with your careful hands. It’s beautiful and well-written, layered with so many truths and lies that you can’t begin to interpret the true meaning of her sentences.

Something tingles at the base of your skull, warm and light as it blossoms through your head. Understanding. Or, the semblance of it.

You look up. Light green eyes stare back into yours. They’re captivating, and you wonder if they ever left. If she watched you the same way you did her, attempting to unravel her very being through carefully constructed lines and flowing script and words layered with meaning.

Those green eyes have the power to shatter you. You pick up your pen.

“So what is it that you do?” The man is speaking.

Your mind crashes back into the present, another hairline fracture appearing on the surface of your heart. You can practically feel it, the torment running deeper than the illusion the thin crack offers. It’s bone-aching, and you suddenly feel exhausted.

“I’m a copywriter,” Natasha answers, sounding casual. You can sense the clipped tone and undercurrent of frustration, and your hand gently traces circles against her wrist. “I graduated with a degree in English Literature.”

“Ah,” the man says, sounding every bit as pretentious as he looks. “My wife got a degree in that as well.”

Another crack, splintering into you. Your eyes flick down, catching the ring on Wanda’s finger. It’s shining and big, the diamonds glittering back at you, the mockery of it seeping into your soul. The meaning of it is every bit as surface level as what you assume Wanda’s feelings for this man are. You know better, she had told you just as much.

“I don’t think I’ll ever love a man in the way I’m meant to.”

You don’t have to ask what she means. You don’t respond, a gentle sigh escaping you as the weight of her head rests solidly on your shoulder. The clock on your nightstand blinks back at you, the numbers twinkling in the early morning. Pens and paper and journals are strewn around you, a poetry book facedown in your lap. Your voice had grown too tired from reading, but neither of you seemed to mind the comfortable silence stretching around the room.

Until now.

“I know,” you say. There are not many words you can speak.

It's simple. That’s a lie. It’s not, it’s complicated and it's painful and there’s nothing you can do to take that away from her. You wish you could. You would do anything to let Wanda’s soul have respite in your presence, to be unburdened from thoughts of sin and duty, to be able to finally breathe properly.

Soft fingers find your hand, tangling with your fingers almost hesitantly. Your palm slides easily against hers, and you swallow the lump in your throat. Your hands fit like a jigsaw puzzle, feeling like the final piece as it clicks into place. Confusion and frustration sliding away as the picture finally makes sense.

“Poetry feels like prayer.” Wanda’s voice is quiet, and you know what she means. It feels holy, even with the words only spoken in the sublunary space of your dorm room. Her head twists on your shoulder, and you feel your gaze drawn to her like the inevitable magnetic pull of the earth. Her green eyes peer up at you. “Will you pray with me?”

Picking up the poetry book in your lap, you begin reading. Your thumb runs over the pages. Staring at the words in front of you, you wonder why they’re blurry. You realize later, after Wanda had fallen asleep from being lulled into comfort by your voice, that it had been unshed tears.

You let them fall.

“Yes,” Wanda is saying, and her voice is exactly the same as you’d remembered. She’s speaking, saying something about the university she’d attended and how she got her degree. The only thing you can focus on is the familiar lilt of her words, the smooth cadence you’ve memorized and seared into your brain.

It’s painful, but you can’t take your eyes off of her. Natasha’s hand moves slightly against your waist, and you blink. The man next to Wanda has his arms almost possessively around her shoulders, his hawkish eyes watching you.

You look away.

“Oh, you and my wife went to the same University,” Natasha says, trying to be helpful. You don’t appreciate it. Her words are genuine, but the statement falls short, a beat of awkward silence stretching into an eternity as you try to respond. What could you even say?

Yes. We did. I fell in love with the confident, full-of-life brunette who looked at me like I hung the moon, and I looked at her like she painted the stars just to give the moon some company. I loved her as easy as breathing, and now my lungs never feel full enough, my breaths labored and weighted with the words of love I breathed into her ear that I can’t take back, won’t take back.

Refuse to take back.

“We must have missed each other,” Wanda says, her eyes flashing in your direction, but not fully meeting yours. “It’s a big school.”

A polite smile plasters itself onto your face, too small and stiff to be sincere. Your heart clenches painfully, a small part of your mind begging Wanda to meet your eyes. God, it feels just like when you were at University.

Her husband’s fingers tighten slightly around her shoulder, pulling her further into his side. You wonder if Wanda feels like she’s suffocating yet. You hope not, you want her to breathe. To fill her lungs with light and hope and passion and… not whatever this is.

Another memory, sludging through your mind like a heavy foot through quicksand.

You don’t talk to Wanda much outside of class and the late-night poetry readings in your dorm. She blames it on her busy social life, being in a sorority is apparently no joke. You’ve learned to keep your head down when you see her in public, her eyes always lingering near you, but never fully meeting yours, too focused on the sorority sisters that always seem to surround her. Appearances are everything to her, you know that.

But god, it hurts.

It still doesn’t cut quite as deep as the weekend her parents came to visit.

Wanda had grown up the daughter of a pastor, a well-spoken man with a quiet, hidden-in-the-shadows wife. You’d watched from afar, noticing the small glances her mother would send her way, and the nervous twitching of her fingers as she adjusted Wanda's collar, or brushed a piece of invisible lint from her daughter's skirt.

Per usual, Wanda was nothing short of perfect. Her hair was perfectly curled, laying gently over her shoulders as the brunette strands glowed in the sunlight. She’d done her makeup just subtle enough to perfect her already dainty features, but not enough to rouse suspicion that she was promiscuous.

You’d watched her do her makeup many times, her hands perfecting the art. You wondered how much of her father’s influence and mother’s worry controlled the easy flick of her brush as it spread a light blush across her cheeks.

Tracing your gaze down her form, you glance back to the book in front of you. A poem glared up at you, the words swimming off the page as you remember the subtle curve of Wanda’s spine, her head bowed slightly as her father spoke into her ear.

Wanda was full of life, shining brightly and standing out amongst the rest of the population at this university. Or perhaps that was simply your own observation, after all, your entire waking moments were consumed by thoughts of her.

The point is, she wasn’t… docile. Or submissive, or meek like her posture suggests when her father lays a hand on her shoulder. You can’t tell if he’s gripping his fingers tightly or gently around her, but either way, Wanda doesn’t make a move to remove his hand.

She’s nodding, her head turning towards him. You can see her smiling easily at him, saying something back.

His hand returns to his side, and you hope that you imagine the slope of her mother’s shoulders relaxing. The way her fingers twitch towards her daughter, wanting to replace the feeling of his hand against her skin, but choosing to brush a strand of her hair behind her ear instead. Always deflecting her true intentions.

Wanda’s face turns towards her mother. You see the momentary look that passes between them, but you’re unable to interpret it from across the quad. The moment passes, and her mother returns her attention back to her husband. Always a faithful, obedient wife.

When Wanda and her parents pass by the table you’re seated at, she doesn’t spare you a second glance. Her green eyes are focused on some unimportant thing in the distance, her father’s lips moving near her ear again. You silently plead with her to look your way, to take solace in the silent comfort you can provide.

Her green eyes don’t meet yours. You feel a crack appear on your heart, and you swallow harshly as you stare blankly at the poetry in front of you. Shoving the crack down where you’ve displaced all the other ones, you begin to read.

The poem is a romantic one. Full of yearning and hope and unbridled passion. The only thing you can think about is how incredibly tragic it seems.

Natasha’s thumb is slowly moving, caressing your hip as she holds you loosely by her side. Not possessive, but not without care either. You’re grateful for the touch, and focus on it as Wanda’s husband continues to talk about… what is he talking about?

You don’t really care.

The version of Wanda that you knew and the woman you see in front of you clash in your mind, splintering your thoughts. You’re also aware of your wife beside you, and guilt creeps into your heart.

You chose Natasha. You’re happy with her, you stood across from her and declared your love and promised her that you would love her until the end of time. You intend to stand by that, to uphold your promise. Imagining a future without her seems impossible.

But you’d also imagined a future with Wanda once. It didn’t seem right to just ignore that. And it was impossible to keep the memories at bay. Not when she was standing before you for the first time in ten fucking years, with her perfect hair and her natural looking makeup and her light green eyes and the scent of vanilla washing over you and and and-

Breathing in, feeling the comforting scent of vanilla enveloping you in the strong embrace of a familiar lover. Wanda’s hair just beneath your nose, the silky strands brushing against your cheek and chin as you place a gentle kiss on her head.

Her arms are wrapped around you, her breaths even. You aren’t asleep, but you let her think that you are. It's easier for her to be herself when she thinks nobody is watching. Her fingers slowly dance along the exposed skin of your stomach, softly tracing nonsensical patterns against you as you feel your heart pound steadily.

A poetry book rests at your side, forgotten in the favor of holding her in your arms. You understand what all the poets mean, with their suffering and their longing written painstakingly on pages of crinkled paper beneath their ink-stained hands, as you hold Wanda gently against you. This moment feels too precious, too raw to ever be put into words, to write down for the world to see.

No, you’d much rather keep this moment pure and untouched, resting in your heart alongside the inevitability of Wanda Maximoff.

You can feel her in your soul. Or rather, maybe it’s your soul that’s bleeding and filling the space between you two. You hope that it is mixing with Wanda’s, filling the painful parts of her that she pushes down and cushioning them with warmth. Is it too much to hope that she’ll carry a part of you with her forever? Is it selfish to take the willing parts of her soul that bleed into yours and keep them there until they’re so ingrained in the fiber of your being that you would lose yourself if she took it back?

Maybe that's the true definition of love.

Natasha's hand grips you tightly, her fingers tense around your hip. Her eyes are locked on Wanda’s husband, his drawling voice grating your nerves. You risk a glance at Wanda, recognizing her blank look at the ground for what it is. Escape.

She used to tell you about the places she’d go inside her mind when life got to be too much for her. It sounded peaceful. She could be whoever she wanted inside her own head, without the pressure of her father or the quiet concern of her mother and the encompassing guilt that she was never making the right choices. You hope she's there right now, and return your gaze towards her husband.

“I mean,” Her husband's eyes are sharp, glinting dangerously at your wife. “It’s so nice that they allow so many… diverse individuals to work with your company.”

His eyes travel down her body before flicking over to you briefly.

“Is it hard to keep your lifestyle and work life separate?” he asks, and your blood boils. You see Wanda’s head lower further. “I imagine it's quite difficult to relate to your peers, with a secret like that.”

Natasha is seconds away from exploding, tearing him down with sharp words and securing her own termination in the same breath.

You find your voice, the quiet strength of your words surprising you. “I’ve been out and proud since I was in high school. I’ve never been ashamed of who I am. And neither is my wife.”

Wanda’s eyes cut sharply over to you, that specific shade of light green filling your vision.

“Why the fuck would you give this to me if you didn’t want me to interpret it that way?” You’re not yelling, you never would. Not at her. Never at Wanda. But you can feel the frustration leaking into each syllable, and you hate the way that Wanda’s shoulders seem to hunch in on themselves.

“I never meant for you to…” Wanda can’t continue, her eyes locked on the poetry book you’re clutching between your fingers.

“You never meant for me to fall in love with you?”

A flinch, green eyes staring at the carpet and gentle fingers clenched uselessly over the back of a chair. The words bounce around your dorm room, settling in with a tentative weariness.

“Why would you give me this poetry book about romance and passion and fighting for love if that’s not what you wanted me to think about you?” you set the book down on your desk, the pages flipping open. You can see the smudged ink of your annotations. That was a flaw of yours, always writing too fast as you try to keep up with the thoughts in your head.

“That’s not what I mean I-” Wanda’s eyes are locked on the book and you watch her swallow harshly. Her voice is shaky, her head bowed. You hate it, and there’s nothing you can do to make it better. “I can’t love you.”

“You don’t love me?”

“That’s not what I said.” Wanda’s voice is quiet.

Oh.

“You don’t understand,” Wanda has unshed tears in her eyes. You want to wipe them away, your fingers twitching, unsure if you’re allowed to anymore. “My family means everything to me.”

Oh.

The weight of tragedy settles in, burying itself deep within your bones and wrapping around your heart and squeezing. All of the cracks you’d smothered appear at once, splintering and creating new fractures with each labored pump of poisonous blood coursing through your body.

You finally understand what the poets mean. The metaphors and desperation, the weight of grief and longing and the way it sticks to your very soul like a parasite that you keep feeding and nurturing because the pain of forgetting is worse than the crushing travesty of remembering.

Wanda is talking, and for the first time, you’re not paying attention to her words. She’s saying something about her parents and financial dependence and them cutting her off and all you can hear is that she’s stuck and scared and trying to protect herself and you can’t choose her path for her.

It’s agony, it’s grief and it’s nothing like what you imagined as you innocently read the words scattered across the pages of your poetry book. It’s so much fucking worse. Wanda’s hand is on the doorknob of your dorm, her vanilla scent already fading from your walls as she looks at you with longing and grief and something devastating hidden and suppressed deep within her soul. You wonder if this will be the last time her green eyes ever look at you with genuine emotion shining through them.

You wonder if you’ll ever escape the numbing chill of loneliness that settles beneath your skin like an old friend.

Vision, you’d learned his name at some point during the conversation, seems at a loss for words for the first time since you’ve met him. His face is steadily reddening, the tips of his ears practically scarlet as you watch the hand on Wanda’s shoulder tighten.

“I’ve seen your name credited a lot, you must be very good at what you do.” Wanda’s voice is melodic, her words placating yet genuine. She’s mending the rift, her words an unspoken apology for her husband’s behavior as he stands sullen beside her.

Natasha smiles and begins speaking.

It’s strange, to see the woman you’re in love with talking with Wanda. There was a time when you thought you’d never find someone who made you feel the way Wanda did. You were convinced that your love would live and die with her.

Then, you met your wife.

Natasha was everything you could have ever hoped for. She loved you openly and proudly from the moment she met you. Her commitment to you had never waned, her gestures true and meanings genuine. You’d never trusted somebody more, never felt as comfortable with another person.

She stood by your side when others did not. She held you when you were sick, and stayed by your side when you were at your lowest. The day that you had married her was the best day of your life, and your vows were nothing short of pure truth. The green eyes that had looked at you from across the altar were vibrant and dark, your love for that shade of green far surpassing the one you’d loved all those years ago.

So why did it still hurt to think about Wanda?

If you had to choose. Right now, Natasha or Wanda, you knew you’d choose your wife in every lifetime. But that didn’t explain the splintering cracks reappearing on your heart the longer you stayed in Wanda’s presence.

Music rattles the floor, a plethora of swirling hues surrounding you. Your senses are dulled by the fiery liquor burning within your veins, your brain finally relaxing.

“Dude, come on don’t just stand there like a weirdo,” Kate pulls you away from the wall, spilling your cup in the process.

You both look down at it for a moment, before bursting into peals of laughter that leave you clutching her shoulder for support as she bends at the waist. Her dark hair falls neatly over her shoulders, her backward cap holding it in place.

The music drowns out most of your laughter, but you’re aware of the eyes on both you and Kate as you wipe tears from your eyes. She’s pulling you closer to the DJ, dancing sloppily with you. You can’t bring yourself to care about the people around you. There was one goal tonight, get absolutely sloshed at the local college bars and then pass out on Kate’s couch to forget about the whole thing.

“Who the fuck let the sloppy, drunk dykes in?”

Kate doesn’t hear the words, but you do. You turn to face the group near you, the liquor making you bold. It’s a bunch of sorority girls, with their skin-tight dresses and judging eyes watching you with caked-on mascara. Your heart drops when you see Wanda standing in the middle of them.

Your blood runs cold, a surge of sadness and fury sweeping through you. It’s confusing, but most of all, it’s fucking infuriating.

Behind you, Kate stumbles, her elbow knocking into your side. Your arms wrap around her, keeping her upright as she mumbles an apology in your ear. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Wanda whisper something to one of the girls, their eyes on you and filled with mirthful laughter.

“You’re right, Wanda,” the girl says, loud enough for the whole group to hear. “These dyke sluts would probably jump on the nearest dick they could find, since nobody else wants to fuck them.”

The blood rushes to your ears, and Kate’s gasp reverberates around your skull. The bar seems quieter than before, and a multitude of eyes are on you and the blonde bitch in front of you is smirking like she just stole your favorite candy and Wanda is laughing and pointedly avoiding eye contact with you but her smile wavers slightly as her eyes grow sad for a split second before she remembers where she is and you’re so fucking mad and it all just seems so goddamn tragic and-

Your fist connects solidly with that stupid, smug smirk that the blonde girl proudly plasters on her face. There are gasps and Kate whooping loudly in your ear and arms wrapped around you and pulling you towards the door and alcohol making your head spin and fuck you’ve never felt more alive.

Wanda’s eyes finally meet yours. They’re filled with shock, but just before she turns away, you see a sliver of gratitude and the hint of an apology glimmering in their depths.

Needless to say, both you and Kate are banned from that bar.

Your wife is laughing. The echoes of mean laughter from Wanda and her sorority sisters fade into the background noise of your brain as you refocus on the conversation. Natasha’s soft chuckles bring a smile to your face before you can stop it, your lips turning up as you look at her.

She’s effortlessly pretty, her eyes crinkled slightly at the edges even as her gaze flickers warily over to Vision. Her arm is wrapped around your waist, solid yet unrestrictive.

Wanda’s eyes linger around the fingers that lightly draw circles against your hip. She seems to shake herself, eyes quickly moving back towards safer territory as she focuses on Natasha’s face. You don’t miss the fleeting expression of longing that flits across her face, her appearance seeming soul-crushingly tired for a mere moment before it smooths over in a way that speaks to years of practice.

You wonder if she’s remembering the same night that rises to the front of your mind. You try to combat it, to stay in the moment. Natasha's fingers squeeze your hips lovingly, and you descend into the memory with bone-deep guilt.

The concrete is cold beneath you, the wind picking up slightly and threading its way through your hair. You shiver, feeling Wanda adjust her body closer to yours. You’re aware of her heat spreading through you. Her hand fits seamlessly in yours, and you wonder when loving Wanda became as easy and inevitable as breathing.

“Do you think the poets compared their words to the stars?” Wanda asks.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” you say, breathing in her vanilla scent. It’s hard to focus on her words when her body is pressed fully against yours, your left side burning with warmth and something else that you’re almost scared to identify.

Wanda chuckles, the sound heating your cheeks further.

“Well,” she pauses. That’s one of the things you love about her, how careful she is with her words. “Do you think they viewed their words, their poems, as unattainable yet beautiful and pure?”

You’re quiet. You can think of something that is also unattainable, pure and completely inevitable. It’s not poetry, and it’s not the glittering stars that take up your vision. She’s lying right beside you, her nose bright red from the wind and a future stretching out ahead of her that she is able to mold into something beautiful and something that is completely her own. If only she had the courage to do so. You hope she does.

“Of course they did. They’re poets,” you respond, and Wanda hums. “Do you feel that way?”

Wanda doesn’t respond, and that’s enough of an answer for you.

The silence stretches on, but it's comfortable. Wanda is shifting silently, more of her body pressing against you, the wind having died down a while ago, leaving no easy excuses for her leg pressed fully against yours.

“You wanna know what I think?” Wanda’s voice is quiet, yet firm.

Turning your head, you look at her. She looks back, her lips mere inches away from yours. You can feel the soft, warm breath escaping her lips and hitting your face as she speaks.

“I think that you’re like the stars,” Wanda begins, her green eyes sparkling at you. They glance down imperceptibly, almost too quickly for you to catch. You notice, of course you do. “You're incomparable, chemical almost.”

Wanda trails off, her eyes firmly focused on your lips. You understand, you always do.

“I can’t tell if you’re a curse or a miracle,” you whisper, feeling Wanda lean in. The tension vibrates palpably between your lips and hers. “But I don’t really care.”

Soft lips collide with yours, a seismic shift that causes your head to spin for a moment. It’s perfect and pure and something bordering on holiness and you find yourself never wanting to leave this moment. Then, Wanda’s lips are moving against yours and the heat inside you is rising and her hands are everywhere and you can’t get enough of her and-

Her moans feel almost reverent, stretching out into the minimal space between you as she arches herself closer to you. Her skin is pressed against yours, warm and alive and feeling every last bit like an all-consuming force that you gladly pull closer. Your fingers slip inside her easily, the feeling of her bringing tears to your eyes. You want to live in this moment forever, with the taste of her on your lips and her thighs impossibly soft around you, her head thrown back as she chants your name like a prayer.

You’ve never believed in God. But in this moment, you finally know what it truly means to worship.

A man’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“Well, as lovely as it’s been to meet you…” Vision trails off, and Natasha simply raises an eyebrow.

“Thank you for the wonderful conversation,” Wanda’s smooth words cut in, another unspoken apology and excuse for her husband's behavior. “We should probably be leaving, it’s getting late.”

Green eyes glance at her husband, whether for permission or in reprimand, you can’t tell. Either way, it gets Vision to move, a firm head nod directed towards your wife before he’s striding towards the door, pulling Wanda with him.

She’s leaving. Again.

A final memory claws its way to the surface. You know this one. It's a memory that you’ve kept hidden in the deepest part of your brain, in a place full of sticky cobwebs and scarce lighting, meant to be forgotten.

It’s inevitable.

Wanda is almost at the exit, her husband's hand possessive against the small of her back. It speaks of ownership, of pride. You despise it. It’s nothing like the soft, loving touch of your wife’s hand against your waist.

The turn of a head and soft brunette waves falling gently around delicate, hunched shoulders. Soft skin, glowing slightly in the dim, red lighting of an exit sign. Green eyes, piercing yours in the same manner that they had all those years ago.

Your breath catches, lodging itself painfully in your throat. Or maybe it's just your chest, and what lies beneath the surface. A heart, with cracks all along the surface, squeezing painfully, the tension, the agony almost too much to bear.

A single tear slides down your cheek. You hear Natasha murmuring something in your ear, a gentle hand wiping your face dry.

There’s a mask sliding into place over those perfect features that you’d memorized a decade ago. Green eyes, light in shade, sliding past you as if you’re an insignificant, forgotten trophy on the highest shelf. And then she’s gone, out the door with only the faint scent of vanilla and a permanent memory etched into your mind.

The cracks splinter, and without warning, shatter completely.

“Pick up, pick up… please just… fucking. Ah, just, goddamnit pick up the fucking phone Wanda.”

You’re drunk, the phone feeling awkward and heavy in your hands. The sound of a dial tone beeping ricochets through your mind, and you clumsily jerk the phone away from your ear. Blearily, you take in the four previous calls you’ve made to Wanda.

One more try can’t hurt. Right?

You firmly press your finger against her name, the sound of your phone dialing her number washing over you. The tiny numbers in the corner of your screen read somewhere between one or two in the morning, but you don’t care. All you need is for Wanda to pick up.

A sound, different from before. You hear quiet breathing on the other side of the line.

God, you’ve missed that sound. The feeling of her head resting against your shoulder or chest as slow measured breaths fill the four walls of your dorm room. The small puffs of air hitting your skin when she shifted, burying her face in your neck.

You say as much, the words spilling out of you. You’re not sure if Wanda is listening, but you hope she is.

“Fuck, I- I just miss you so much. It feels like I’m dying every time I see you, and I can’t take your eyes avoiding mine anymore. I mean,” you hiccup, the sound pathetic even to your own ears. It doesn’t matter.

“Don’t you miss us?” you say, your voice quiet. The soft breaths on the other end of the line hitch, and you grasp at it. “I miss the flame of what we were, I don’t even really know what we were, but… I miss the small reign we had. Even if it was just in the space of my dorm room. I would go through the pain of you every day if it meant I could be close to you. I-”

You lose the words, the regret pouring through you as quickly as a flooding river. The words can’t escape fast enough.

“Do you regret us? I know we were a secret, and I was okay with that. I would have done anything, kept anything private, secret even, just to keep you in my life. You know that Wanda.” You draw a shaky breath. You hope that you don’t imagine the same type of breath on the other end of the line.

“Do you miss it?” You ask, hating the way your voice cracks gently. You hear Wanda’s sharp, soft inhale. “Do you regret the secret of us?”

Click.

---

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta @captivepotato

Dm or comment to be added!

600 notes · View notes

etfrin · 10 months

Text

The Reward — Coriolanus Snow ♡

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | pinv sex, mirror sex-ish if you squint, dub con if you squint, overstimulation if you squint, face riding, creampie, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), snow is his own warming, dom sub undertones, reader has ear piercings, degradation, hints of a toxic relationship, impact play (spanks your ass a few times), dumbfication if you squint, low-key soft! Snow in the beginning | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow! x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Coriolanus Snow gives you a reward by being gentle af and then by being a mean animal (kinda) dnsjsk🤭

⇢☾A/N: it's 3:00 am and i need to sleep, i thought about Snow taking off my heels after a gala and this was born <3

< arranged marriage m.list > < tag list > < masterlist >

Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman but he wasn't gentle. Perhaps this was an alternative universe, a fever dream but you couldn't believe what was happening right now in front of your eyes. Your pupils were in shock, your palms were sweating as you continued to take in the sight.

The sight of Snow being on his knees as he unclasps the belts of your uncomfortable heels. You swallow, “Coryo, you don't have to” but his head tilts up and his eyes are still his. Blue, cold, empty, and never ending like the ocean. A calmness washed over you, the look in his eyes proof enough that this was one of his many tricks to keep you satisfied and happy and you have to indulge him in it.

So you let him gently take off your shoes and set them aside. You await his further actions and let out a soft, small moan as his lips pressed to one of your knees. His mouth keeps pressing wet kisses up to your upper thigh, leaving behind a trail of his saliva on your skin.

This was a reward. Coriolanus was so proud of his pretty and smart wife today. You behaved accordingly in the gala tonight, letting him take the credit for your ideas. You understood your duties and that's why this is one of the few times Coryo will ever kneel for or be this gentle. It's a thank you he can't voice so he does it by his actions.

His lips find themselves kissing inside your inner thigh now, gently nipping the skin as you let out needy mewls. He could see the wet spot forming in your panties and felt the usual pride in his mind bloom. Only he could have you wet so easily and damn, if that didn't skyrocket his ego.

He kissed the wet spot, the juices now glistening onto his pink lips and he pulled back. You whimper as he does, and he wants to coo at you and tease you for being a greedy pet. But he doesn't, it's a reward after all.

He stood up and pressed a kiss to your forehead before his hand grabbed the box of make-up wipes. You still hadn't said a word, letting him do his thing. He gently wiped the makeup off your face, clearing you of the chemicals he hated but you had to apply them to stay in fashion.

His fingers then gently take off the earrings you had worn, and then one by one all the rings you had except the wedding ring of course. His touch had lingered during all of those actions, making your body heat up and your panties soaked. Soft sighs escape you as he continues to adore you in such a gentle manner. As if you're made of the most precious diamond but easily breakable without care.

That's what he might have thought of you. So damn important to his sanity but any action of yours can damn him to hell. A risk, a liability to everything he has. But in his mind, you're worth it all and he has done every single scenario where things can go wrong, so many sleepless nights dedicated to these thoughts.

Snow lands on top.

Nothing you can do can mess him up, nothing. He makes sure of it with his every living breath. It's the reason he can spoil you like this, be a deserving man to his wife otherwise Coriolanus Snow is a monster (and you know that and accept him anyway).

He unzips your dress, his lips now pressing a heated kiss to your nape as his fingertips trace your bare skin. His touch was cold as ice, the heat of your body cooling down to his touch. It gave you relief momentarily but it was clear that you wanted more. The whimper that left your mind as he unclasped your bra was enough proof of that.

With your breasts set free from their confines, Corio’s hands begin to knead your soft tits. His eyes look into the mirror as he watches himself message your soft breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples making the sensitive pebbles hard. He rolls the buds, playing with them until you moan, your body flushing with lust in your veins. You begin to rub your thighs, getting desperate for any sort of friction but you force yourself to stop as he tsks near your ear.

“Don't, doll,” he whispered as one of his hands began the journey of going down on your body, the heat of his palm onto your tummy and then so close to your clothed pussy. “Spread,” he commands and you follow without embarrassment or hesitation.

Your soaked panties come into your view through the mirror and you want to look away from the shyness you still had but didn't. Instead, a whine escapes your lips that makes Coriolanus chuckle. “Such a needy pet. I will take care of you, darling. No need to worry.”

You moan as he refers to you as darling for the first time. Your cunt clenching desperately around nothing as your mind gets dizzy. There was something about how he had said it. Soft and warm, his voice dipping a bit lower as he pronounced the letters and it was tinged with a feeling he wouldn't associate himself with.

Love.

You whimper, “Please” and he hushes you as his fingers snap the band of your panties before he dips a single finger onto your wet folds. He smirks, his face looking into the mirror to gaze into your glazed eyes. “Pathetic,” he muttered and you didn't bother to take offense, his words turning you on as much as his finger circling on your clit was.

A broken moan escapes as his fingers decide to pinch the sensitive nub, and he coats his fingers with your juices. A string of sticky white cream on his digits as he takes his hand out of your panties and places his covered fingers inside the wet carven of his mouth. He expertly sucks clean of his fingers, popping them out of his mouth with an obscene sound.

He smirks to himself as he relishes the taste of you. His. Just his you were. He leaves you there, alone on the chair as he walks to the bed. He wasn't wearing anything except for his pants. His suit and shirt were taken off earlier.

You waited for his further command as he got himself comfortable on the bed. “Come here,” he said and you listen. You take off your wet panties and let them stay ruined on the floor as you practically crawl to Coryo. You straddle him and wait some more.

He doesn't say anything, his face blank but his sky-blue eyes heated. His hands were on your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there, making sure to grip you tight enough to mark you.

His tongue comes out to wet his rather dried lips. Your breath hitches as you see it and the sight of you being so affected by such a simple action made him feel like a. . . Lord.

He doesn't say anything, but did he need to? You knew him all too well, so you don't question yourself as you begin to move. The new position had you gripping the headboard while his hands shamelessly groped your ass, even occasionally giving small sharp slaps onto the flesh, making it red. It was simply another way of marking you.

Meanwhile, your eyes were closed, your mind forgetting about the existence of reality as his hot breath hit your glistening folds and made you quiver. “Go ahead,” he permits you.

Not even a second later, you begin to ride his face. He groans as his lips meet with your cunt. His tongue begins with broad, messy strokes of your pussy, gathering as much as your juices possible. All the while your eyes roll back and you moan. A sharp slap on the flesh of your ass has you grinding yourself onto his face. His nose nudged your sensitive, swollen clit perfectly as his tongue continued to swirl and flick around your cunt with calculated broad strokes that made you whine his name.

Soon his mouth finds your clit and begins to relentlessly suck your bundle of nerves. You cry out, pleading that this is too much and you can't- can't take it! But your begging was unheard and your pleas turned into louder moans, whimpers for pleas, and more. His sucking gets harsher and the overstimulation makes your mind reel. The warmth that was gathering in your lower body begins to spread all over, turning your bones to jelly and your mind to nothing as you cum onto his face. The rolls of your hips slowly as he continues to lap at all the cream released and your pussy keeps on spasming.

Your mind wanted more so you decided to take more. You had understood this was a reward for being good. So you can be a bit bad for now. So despite his grunt of displeasure as you get off his face, you quickly find yourself getting rid of his remaining clothes.

His cock was hard, the red tip angry and gleaming with pre-cum that coated most of his length. The sight had you salivating. Coryo knew you were nothing more than a cockdrunk slut and he called you that, you feel yourself glow from his words, not finding the word even a little bit degrading.

“I love you,” you mumbled as you lowered yourself onto his cock with a wanton moan echoing through the room. He groans, “Fuck yourself good, pet. You're in charge of your pleasure tonight. Go ahead, dove.”

“Yes, Coryo,” you whine as you feel yourself full of his cock. You felt yourself squeezing his thick length, a gasp escaping you as you tried to get used to his cock without being prepped. A groan could be heard as he felt his dick getting squeezed by your wet, tight cunt.

He wants to fuck into you and he almost does. But Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman and a gentleman kept his word. Especially when he can see his wife looking so fucking pretty being fucked out from his cock merely twitching inside her walls.

“Begin,” he demands, his voice haughty and filled with lust but you weren't ready. However, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You begin to rock your hips, slowly at first, you let yourself savor the action of his cock grinding against every hidden pleasure spot inside of your cunt. You moan as your pussy takes his cock deeper until his tip is pressed right against your g-spot making you see stars. You begin to grind back and forth so he keeps hitting that spot, you begin to sweat, your thighs clenching, and you couldn't keep focus as pleasure feels your every vein and his cock making you dumb. Simple actions seemed impossible to you and you wanted to beg him to take over, to make you cum again and again until you were broken.

He was unaware of your turmoil, his eyes onto the sight where his cock meets with your cunt, the combined fluid of his pre-cum and your slick dripping down onto his skin. The sight was filthy and he loved it. He clenched his jaw, trying so hard to be a patient gentleman to his wife.

He treated this like a test against himself because he knew what you did to his self-control. You aren't going to win this, he's not going to let go. He will not fuck into you like an animal, he refused to.

But was it losing when you were out of it like this? As if you were truly nothing but a dumb slut who just needs to cum. He decided that this wasn't a loss, but a win. He was doing you a favor when his hips began to snap upwards, his cock thrusting inside of you faster than the pace you had set. It was a pity that he felt so that's why he went back to his words. He was in control of your pleasure and he always will be. Self-control had nothing to do with it, he told himself.

You scream out in pleasure as several spanks are delivered onto your ass, turning the flesh red. It was clear that you liked the sting because of how tightly your pussy suffocated his dick after each slap. ‘Fucking whore of a wife’, he thought. He doesn't voice his thoughts but merely grins at the sight of tears filling your eyes. His dick twitched, an indication of being close.

However, he had to make you cum on his cock first. His hips begin to rut in faster into you, his hands holding you down as he thrusts in faster and harder. His dick kissing all of your hidden spots you didn't even know existed, his cock was perfect.

All you could do was take and take the reward he was giving you. Tears of satisfaction fell down your cheeks and it nourished his pride. You begin to ramble as you get closer to the edge. You ramble about how perfect he is, how much you love him, and fuck you can't think- you can't think. He is perfect, perfect, perfect.

Each of your praises makes him fuck you harder, deeper, a thrust so deep that his cockhead kissed your cervix making you gasp from a hint of pain and a hundredfold of pleasure. You begin to cum, and he shallowly thrusts into your cunt as you ride out your high. Your pussy spasms continuously around his cock as you cry out from being overwhelmed.

“That's a good girl,” he coos at you, “that's my girl.” You whine, your mind unable to process his words. You couldn't even sit up anymore, your body falling onto his. He wraps his arms around you, caging you to him. “My perfect wife,” he whispered as he continues to fuck into you despite your protests of being too much.

He doesn't listen to your pleas, his reward for you ultimately was his cum. Now he can't stop until he finds release himself, otherwise, how would you get your gift, right?

So he continues and it doesn't take more than a few minutes to fuck his thick, hot load into your womb. You whimper as his cock slips out and sighs in relief. You were in his arms and will be so for the rest of the night.

Coriolanus Snow wondered briefly if you liked your reward if not, well you have full access to his credit cards.

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964

@skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived @bucksdonkey @xyzstar @ellie-luvsfics @sunny-deary @daughter1of2anita3dearly @eir964 @nowsyhozey @ayaya-aa @serving-targaryen-realness @hansbasement @louweasleymalfoy @lettersandwhiteroses @arzua10 @wotcherpeak @ever8ea @daughter-of-the-stars11 @blippys-blog @iguanagwen @moonlight-by-the-sea @snowlandstop @badbleep88 @hobireasns @floswife @weeeoosworld @ludasgf

@sushirolliee @poppyflower-22 @dilucpegg3r

3K notes · View notes

thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

Note

sagau with the language barrier issue except... the creator is sick and tired of trying to ask for things so they do everything themself.

and it gives their followers mass anxiety bc they can't even ask what you're doing... bc they know they won't understand anything...

SUCH A GENIUS NARVI 10/10 GOOD WORK SORRY IM SUPER LATE BUT THIS IS *chefs kiss*

Like, that's literally how I feel like I first played Genshin LMAO

Also this has a cont. Part 2 at the bottom bc tumblr fucking hates me UPDATE I FIXED IT THANK FUCK

Paimon was like "and then we go to Mondstadt- ! NO, not Wolvendom, to Mondstadt! NOT THE THOUSAND WIND TEMPLE WITH ENEMIES OUT OF UR LEAGUE, ENTER MONDSTADT FOR THE FIRST TIME BEFORE U EXPLORE THE REST OF THE MAP!! >:("

SO MANY IDEAS YET SO LITTLE WRITING SKILL GUYS HELP-

Also warning this is ROUGH in terms of spelling and editing and im so sorry abt that! I have my art show today so you're welcome to come back if you want to see it a little more readable tomorrow lmao

Edit Update 4/6/23:

Revised and fixed all the bad spelling and grammar (hopefully) so make sure to give another read if you havent read the cleaned up version lol

I dont have a beta reader so its just me trying my best ok-

Everything was like kinda chaos tbh at first

WOW- MY FIRST 1,000+ NOTES POST??!?! U GUYS, WHAT ARE R YOU DOIN??!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IM GLAD U GUYS ENJOYED IT SM!! Also look out for more encoded stuff in the future since i mentioned wanting to continue stuff like this + ARG stuff :) <3

Edit 9/7/23: 2,000+ NOTES?? THANK YOU???

Like u wake up under the Irminsul, and u think ur hallucinating a goddamn gacha game for like a solid 5 minutes, or ur lucid dreaming,

but once u actually took what felt like hours to process that u might actually be in fucking Genshin Impact-

Nahida came running from, somewhere?? Its kinda just very floaty dreamy in here so, unclear, she’s beaming with a giddy little smile (💘)

It’s… so much more than what her game model could manage.

I mean, you knew that, of course you did, but- to see the tiny goddess smiling in person, her cute chubby arms waving in the air, her cheeks all plump with baby fat from her excited smile, pretty green eyes that sparkle only in the way excited toddlers do-

It was just…wow. 🥺

You can’t help it, her sheer carefree excitement, exactly like a child but you know that she must be really overwhelmed with joy if shes letting herself act like that so blatantly, you feel ur muscles tug gently into a smile, you try to muffle it but ur happiness leaks out anyway

She's panting as she stumbles on short chubby legs to reach you.

After just staring at you with those big green clover eyes for a few seconds, she physically shakes her head to knock herself out of it,

Nahida places her hand over her heart, and bows elegantly, going back to looking at you with a small but bright smile, her voice is kind of quiet, muffled in a soft way, much like her game depiction,

“Hzozn! R'ev yvvm dzrgrmt gl nvvg blf! R wrwm'g gsrmp blf dlfow wvhxvmw fmgro R dzh zg ovzhg z uvd gslfhzmw bvzih low!” *

…Nahida begins to look a little concerned… her eyes get impossibly bigger.

…Oh no.

♧

Nahida had apparently quickly spread the news that you can’t understand them, but luckily it seems like all the characters still know you!

Alhaitham is pretty much a constant by your side, you knew he was vaguely studying linguistics in the akademiya… but that knowledge still didn’t prepare you to be intensely stared at with his diamond pupils for hours. 💀

Then he’d tap your shoulder or something, and you quickly picked up that he wanted you to just try and say something.

Then he would scribble for hours.

Turns out they can understand you about as much as you understand Teyvat language (s? You can’t even tell if there are multiple languages, that’s how unrecognizable this language is, damn)

The more extroverted or friendly people, like Venti, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Jean, Noelle, Amber, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Ganyu, Barbara, Beidou, Collei, Ayaka, Gorou, Nilou

At least attempt to talk to you, and try very hard to watch what you gesture with your hands or body language

They're pretty much ready to play charades at all times for you lol

Interestingly enough, they only ever understood you when you typed in the chat (with other ppl)

But even then not immediately,

Sumeru scholars basically had to make a whole new department (regardless of how much you play with others) to decipher your ancient language (to them) like those old clay tablets with cuneiform we’re still translating?

Like that, your words appear in elemental magic heavy places (so like that abyss lang. It’ll appear on walls or structures, so like Andrius’ stone colosseum? in Wolvendom gained some of your chat replies inscribed and glowing a rainbow of colors on the top edges of the walls)

Much like the abyss language you see throughout genshin, most Teyvat scholars (across nations/internationally) agreed your language is the oldest form of language known!

It’s like modern languages having roots in older ones, like English with Latin, greek, or German roots, or Sanskrit and the Prakrit for Hindi language today

…so of course no one really speaks the root languages anymore, because they’re so old, so those ancestors who spoke those languages would have little to no understanding of their modern counterparts…

◇

Occasionally if you turned your mic on for whatever reason there would be a gentle whisper on the winds in Mondstadt of your voice,

or your laugh in the waves washing ashore in Inazuma and Fontaine,

your startled noises or screams from battling bosses mixed with the landslides in the mountains of Liyue

So they know what you sound like, but that doesn’t mean they understood your language :/

Nahida had been hoping that you’re actual physical form being here would help improve the language barrier

But unfortunately, those things remained the same, but at least you were physically here to talk to now and give more content for the scholars to study rather than them having to make do with your snippets of language from chats

…so needless to say, it took you a long time to realize they viewed you as a god of sorts.

You kind of knew something was up when at least two allogenes were by your sides at all times, or eremites would replace them if they really couldn’t stick around

You figured they knew you weren’t nearly as combatant-ready as they were at all times, hell you obviously didn’t have a vision hanging off you somewhere, and you only really had a knife strapped to a belt, courtesy of the Thirty Corps

You are still kind of convinced that the people of Teyvat, or Sumeru at least, are just pretty polite (and in the allogenes case, very kind or friendly, even people like Alhaitham or Cyno, resting bitch faces they have, seem to soften a little when they’re walking around with you… maybe you’re just imagining it…)

And as much as you would love to wait until they understand you to do something more fun, as you can see the frustration on Tighnari’s face (and his ears try to flatten back hehe) as he looked like he was debating heatedly with some of the Sumeru sages who insist you stay in the city

…so why not go?

It’s not like they’re going to get it anytime soon, and it’s still too frustrating for yourself to charade things or draw things for them because you can’t even hear their guesses 💀

You can totally handle being like the traveler too,

You still have access to your inventory afterall! Plus, lucky for you, you still find a pass for the Serenitea Pot in your little pocket dimension!

So now you have somewhere to sleep at night, and while most of your stuff went to the traveler’s pack, the things like Primogems

(which.. Okay now you really want primogems bc theyre so pretty and shiny irl)✨️

And other high-level things, or just objects of no use for the traveler (so basically all your hoarded level up stuff and infinite amount of weapons lol) came along with you

So you did have to wander the first week or so around the city and even commission the Adventurer’s Guild to grab you food supplies to cook with

Filling up, along with a few big waterskins, you’re off!

...and everyone collectively has a heart attack!

◇

When you show up in Ghandaraville essentially all “✨️💖☺️✨️” on Tighnari’s doorstep-

He chokes on the tea he’d been sipping on before he opened the door lol

He looks a little frazzled so you try to just gesture with “calm yourself small animal” energy with your hands

“Tivzgvhg Oliw! R'n- R- sld wrw blf-?! Mvevinrmw, xlnv rm, xlnv rm, ivhg! ...R mvvw gl hvmw z nroorlm ovggvih mld gl ylgs gsv vmgriv xrgb lu Hfnvif, gsv Zxgrmt Tizmw Hztv, zmw gsv Nzgiz nlhg orpvob…” he began out looking at you and talking and gesturing to his small dining table (the game sucks, his house looks great and has lots of cool rooms filled with interesting plants… oooo…so pretty...)

But then he kinda just devolved into rambling, no need to understand, you can read the vibes and just know that's what he's doing lol

Collei eventually ducks in, and she looks a little panicked?

She’s quickly followed by Cyno, pushing past her to call out into the house,

His voice seems hard and stressed, looking at Tighnari, “Grtsmzir, szev blf hvvm gsv Tivzgvhg Oliw zmbdsviv, gsvb dviv hvvm xlnrmt gl Tszmwziezeroov ozhg-”

Cyno stops and blinks.

Collei’s mouth is slightly dropped open, she also just, blinks.

You blink.

Tighnari blinks tiredly, he looks like he’d rather be done for the day, you think.

The doctor sighs, and moves his head to nod towards the other dining seats.

◇

Sumeru foods are so much better looking in real life, and they’re so good too, your practically bloated by the end of dinner,

As a thank you, bc u cant say it obv, you just gesture for Tighnari to stay sitting, and he gives you a raised eyebrow and a suspicious ear twitch

But stays still, and you reach out to finally hit the eight-pointed star hovering over his, and all playable characters chests at all times.

Like you suspected, it brings up a holographic character menu, but rather than his full model, it kind of hovers in front of Tighnari’s face, replacing his old 3D model self with framing the real thing for a portrait just in front of his face

The poor Denro user nearly jumps a foot out of his chair as he looks in shock at your screen, you do the same “chillll boy” gesture with your hands and press his shoulders for a second to remind him to not run off or panic

Cyno and Collei had done the dishes and put up leftovers, and are now standing behind Tighnari, watching with equally wide eyes,

“...Dszg ziv gsvb wlrmt gl blf?

Cyno’s voice is even deeper and quieter than usual, you feel goosebumps run up your spine

“Ziv blf tvggrmt yovhhvw, Nzhgvi Grtsmzir?!” Collei’s sweet voice is also hushed like she’s witnessing something sacred, Tighnari gently shakes his head negatively in response, his shoulders shrugging,

“Nzbyv? R uvvo... z orggov hgilmtvi, zmw nb Erhrlm rh zxgrmt fk zh dvoo…”

Though he’s replying, Tighnari’s eyes haven’t once left your ancient magic? technology device? hovering in front of him,

and as he crosses his arms and squints to try and look closer at everything floating in front of him, you can see the childlike gleam of awe in his green eyes, (so cute) in fact, now that you glance up and look, both Collei and Cyno have the same quietly excited and fascinated sparkle in their eyes too

With a displeased sneer, you chuck his old level one bow into the material grinding spots, hope he wasn’t attached to that…

Oh well, he’ll like the new one better, afterall, with no characters, all your best weapons and artifacts are ready to use!

With a small smile of reassurance, you finally finish gearing Tighnari up, tap a miniature version of that 8-point star in the corner like an “X” button, and it retreats like a classic TV set📺 turning off into his chest, he startles but then carefully stands

You decide to just start making decisions bc its worked out so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And grab his hand and haul him out into the forest, Collei letting out a surprised squeak, her and Cyno hurrying after

You reach the nearest clearing, and gesture at Tighnari like a bow and arrow firing, he gets it, and your glad he already trusts you, because he doesn’t take long to summon his bow

He takes aim at a smaller tree about two cars length away

You can feel them all holding their breathe, as Tighnari charges it with Dendro, the arrowhead glowing, (it looks so cool and badass irl god you feel envious even tho ur already here-)

The ranger lets it fly, it streaks neon green, whistling through the air, it hits the tree-

and it fucking explodes.

Vines and leaves and the trees roots all rapidly swell like theyre filled with water, like it literally got hit by a superhero with plant powers, which, not that far off actually.

The green floating Dendro seeds make a ring around the tree its so full of elemental energy-

You give a wild grin, you still got it, hell yeah. >:)

Your grin widens as you look over at Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno

Cyno has a smirk lighting up his face, eyes eager, Collei’s jaw has dropped and she’s just frozen staring as the tree finally settles from the burst of the dendro powered arrow

…Tighnari has lowered his bow, and his mouth is only slightly open, his ears perked straight up into the air, shaking with excitement? Happiness? Interest? You don’t know how peopl-animal-hybrid ears work,

and you STILL cant talk to any of them to ask what they thought, so looks will have to do >:/

Tighnari is the first to move, his head snapping over to look at you, the brightest, kinda feral tbh, smile taking over his face-

“Blf pmld, dv xzm'g fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw blf fh, bvg R xzm'g dzrg gl hvv dszg rm gsv dliow blf'iv tlrmt gl wl mvcg. Blf'iv znzarmt."

… and you just 🙂? Cool!

And give a thumbs up👍LMAO

☆

Bonus:

Alhaitham was literally running around Sumeru City trying to find you when you left, tho you did try and leave a translatable-in-3-to-5-business days-note, he didn’t have time to translate that because you were gone.

Or worse, lost in the city, and he would never forgive himself if he lost you, esp as Acting Grand Sage-

Kaveh got a letter a day and a half later from Tighnari letting them know you were having a sleepover in Ghandarvaville lol

Kaveh also had to hunt down Alhaitham to give him said news, then force his roommate to go sit or lay down for the rest of the day to recover lmao

(Haitham honestly kinda freaked Kaveh out bc he’s never seen him that... desperate, it was like seeing a statue emote lol)

♡

ARE YOU KIDDING WE ALMOST HIT LIMIT AGAIN?!

Bro has anyone else had this problem???

I literally had to switch from PC to mobile and copy and paste it there to get all my shit in and tumblr not throw a hissy fit???!!!

FUCKING TUMBLR- SUCK MY BIG FAT- 👹👹 UGH

ANYWAYYYY SO I FINALLY CAVED

And started doing ciphers for when you dont get teyvat’s language! I meant to do something fun like this for awhile but I wasn’t sure if that would be kind of annoying, but if you’re interested in learning what they actually say (which the whole point of this is that dw it doesnt rlly matter lol) here’s a hint:

*hint = Atbash

:> good luck!

Wish me luck on my art exhibition today!! Then I’ll be homefreeeee 😭

Safe Travels,

💀♒

♡ the beloveds ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

3K notes · View notes

suguru-getos · 1 year

Text

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 4﹕✦﹕┈・୧

Neuvillette x f!reader -> Impact Play

Event Masterlist

you could be considered the one person who knew neuvillette’s first name. while that did make you feel special, it also made you burdened with the secrets he carried alone— until now. your husband was the literal dragon sovereign. the most powerful elemental dragon of hydro. his powers were of course— not of any subjective importance to you since you were his mate. however, the authority he carried made you want to be pressed with that too. oh how delicious it would feel to have him stern and relentless.

your thoughts were brought down with your haze as neuvillette’s voice echoed in the shared breakfast table. “is something the matter, my beloved? you rather seem irked with your trail of thoughts. can i help?” neuvillette was so sweet to you, eyes laced with worry and inquisitive-ness. “it’s all fine, neuv. don’t worry.” you dismissed his worries, sighing.

he was laced with his iudex attire, glistening with the incredible power as the chief justice of fontaine. neuvillette didn’t buy your tranced rejection of his question. “are you sure?” he pressed further. watching you observantly. you were playing with the shinny diamond bracelet— a trinket adored by your dragon mate and brought to you as a gift, afraid neuvillette could figure something was wrong just with the look of your eyes.

“mhm, quite sure.” you smiled again, looking up at him finally. yep— neuvillette wasn’t buying it in the least. he just wanted to know what was it, that plagued your thoughts oh so much.

“i don’t mean to obsess over this or make you uncomfortable by pressing you for the ‘why’ or ‘what’s is bothering you’ but i sincerely hope you tell me this.” yes, he wanted to know. he has always wanted you to feel seen and heard. you dip the croissant into your coffee with cream, taking a bite and trying to contemplate how you’d say these words to him.

“i want you to be mean to me. in bed. like— i want you to indulge into things… like edging, like- impact play like— breeding.” you wanted to dig up a hole for yourself as you felt neuvillette’s sharpened gaze pierce through you. a huffed chuckle escaped out of him. “very well, if my darling lover has been brave enough to admit to her kinks. i musn’t disappoint.”

a few days had passed since that conversation, and now all you’re reminded of is that little trinket. wetness pooling down your thighs as you laid bare onto the iudex’s knees and squirmed at every hit. “nngh please!” you whimpered as another hit launched onto the plush of your already reddened ass.

“you must address me correctly if you want *spank* relent, on my end.” neuvillette daunted in a low, threatening tone. you gasped out, clamping around nothing and wiggling your bruised ass.

“please iudex, i- i want you so bad!” you cried out, sniffling softly at the spanks neuvillette as given your meaty ass over and over, asked you to count & oh you just wanted to savour his cock.

you knew your dragon would soften if you were to beg sweetly, hands massaging the plush of your ass soothingly. “what count are we in, little girl?”

you whimpered out, biting your lip, “seventeen.” you were reduced to a mush, putty in neuvillette’s hands. all for him to play with. all for him… to toy with.

“good girl, you remember your count right.” he smiled, kissing your ass cheek. “maybe you should be rewarded for this, no?”

“yes, please iudex- please!” you finally decided to say his first name, causing neuvillette to soften up, “of course my little princess. i will take such good care of you.” he smiled, petting your hair. maybe you should’ve told about this way— way earlier. ;)

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin thirst #genshin x reader smut #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x reader smut #neuvillette smut #neuvillette thirst #kinktober #genshin impact kinktober #kinktober genshin #neuvillette imagines

887 notes · View notes

k-hotchoisan · 10 months

Note

Congrats on 500! I’m requesting number 5 😁🫶🏻

5. Get spanked by San or Dom Hongjoong?

wE’RE ALMOST TO THE END MY ANGEL and obviously how could I NOT write spanking if it’s not Choi San and his love for asses 🍑

ENJOY 🩷🌶️

Bad kitties need to be punished and San knows just the way to do it

Warnings: smut, spanking kink, suggestive, cat hybrid!Reader, degradation & punishment, impact play

Tag list: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies

San has kept cats. He has a pet cat back home. But when finds out your actual form, he’s rendered speechless—when he wakes up one day , feeling something soft curl around his leg and he spots a pair of fluffy cat ears twitch under the covers, San pulls back the sheets frantically and he stares at you in your hybrid feline form. Your eyes slowly open as you rub your eyes, your slits turning circular when you spot the shocked male before you.

He likes the way you always curl around him, pawing at his lap, and some times just lying your head there while he does his work. Despite the fact that you’re part human, sometimes you just grow mischievous, enjoying poking fun at your human partner, even teasing him by grinding against his crotch when you’re both comfortably cuddling, before you leave him completely high and dry. San tolerates it at first, but it’s starting to drive him insane at the way you’re constantly teasing him like that, especially when you look at him with those fuckin feline eyes.

The final straw was when you had you head nuzzled on San’s lap as usual, with San stroking your hair, and sometimes he massages your ears, and you let out soft purrs, pressing your head into his bare thighs. You stick your tongue out, giving kitten licks, and you feel San squirm slightly in his seat as you travel dangerously close to his crotch.

“Kitty”, he calls endearingly, despite the warning behind the soft tone. You ignore him, giving his thighs a couple more licks as San shifts beneath you, and you don’t miss the way you see his cock pressing against the fabric of his pants. You wonder how much you should push him.

It turns out, not much. That’s mostly because when you bare your small fangs and bite down onto his inner thigh, he jolts with a low groan, and the hand on your ears grip your hair instead, as he tugs your head up to face him.

“I think I’ve been patient enough, kitty”, he mutters, pitch low enough to send electricity down your spine from the anticipation. You only stare back with a small smile.

“Have you?” You ask, your tail trailing across his jaw. San stares down at you, and you see something flash across his eyes, something that makes you want to bolt.

But for once, he’s faster, his muscled arm curled around your waist, holding you down and essentially trapping you. You claw at his arm, almost flailing and his free arm grabs both your wrist, pinning them before you. You severely underestimate his strength, because he pulls you onto his lap as if you’re a rag doll.

You mewl, your tail flailing, as you feel your shorts being tugged off you, only your bare ass out with your pretty panties which is slowly starting to soak.

“Bad kittens need to be punished”, San hums, his palm grazing over your soft and supple flesh. Your tail instinctively coils around his arm.

San has always prided himself as an ass man, and deep inside, he’s always wanted a piece of yours, but you were always teasing him, and he finally snapped. Among all of the times he’s been teased by you—the lap grinding, your kitten licks, the worst was by far whenever he sees you stretch. You always had your back arched, your tail fully erected, and your ass fully out, especially right when he walks into the room. He knows you do it on purpose, because when you stare at him, you accompany your alluring stare with a smirk.

But now, he has you trapped in his arms, right where he wants you.

He doesn’t give you a warning before his hand lands on your ass, the sound of the slap louder than your squeal. Your eyes are blown wide open this time, not from the sting, but from the shock.

And for some fuck ass reason, it’s starting to make you wet.

“How many times did you do that? Teasing, licking, biting. What else is there?” You hear San’s voice above you, feigning being lost in thought.

When he doesn’t get an answer, the sound of your ass being slapped echoes in your shared apartment, and you hiss, jolting forward as San shifts you back into position.

“Kitten, tell me, what else did you do?”

You barely form the thoughts to even answer him. But you try, “grinding?”

Another slap. Your mind is starting to melt as the sting begins to make you leak more.

“You’re partially right. But it’s the worst when you stretch. Bad kitty, having your ass up in the air whenever I walk in. You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”

Fuck. You really did underestimate him. You feel his hard cock pressed against your hip. The tip of his shorts is starting to get wet.

You jolt when his palm meets your skin, this time a moan leaving your lips as you shudder. San cocks an eyebrow. His eyes cast down at the growing dark patch on your panties and scoffs.

“Just how dirty is my kitty? Getting off being punished like this?” He lands another one, but lingers to grab a fistful of your ass, groaning at how your ass spills between this fingers. San cannot keep his eyes off at the way it jiggles whenever he lands his palm on it, and it’s driving him up the wall.

He rubs your ass gently, admiring at how the pink tint is gradually flooding your cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry”, you manage to choke out, fighting against the pleasure pulsing in your gradually wet cunt.

San doesn’t answer you, but he yanks your panties off, tossing it somewhere on the couch, you don’t know. You gasp at the cold breeze tickling your bare cunt now. He soaks two fingers in his mouth, and soon you jolt from the feeling of two digits rubbing against your clit.

“S-Sannie”, you mewl, struggling against his grip. He doesn’t relent, or rather, his grip only tightens. “P-please!”

“Count your spankings. One for every way you’ve teased me. We’ll start over from one if you don’t do it right. Is that clear, kitten?”

You whine. Another smack.

“Y-yes”, you spit, this time the sensitivity at whole another notch now that your bare cunt is exposed.

“Good kitty.”

San raises his hand.

Smack.

“One”, you begin, biting the inner of your cheek.

Smack.

“Two…” you trail, once you’re able to relax your hips.

Smack.

For some reason, the third smack had your eyes rolled back. You feel more slick leak, now your inner thighs are so dirty with your juices. It’s beginning to stain San’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to heed attention to it.

“Kitty”, San coos, and another smack echoes through the apartment. “We’re starting over.”

You’re beginning to sob, from how sensitive your ass is getting from all the spanking, and the more he does it, the more you feel your mind about break from good it feels. Your ears are pointed forward.

Smack.

“One.”

Smack.

“T-two.”

Smack.

“Three”, you whimper, trying to lick the drool that pooled at the corner of your lips.

Smack.

“F-four”, You shift uncomfortably, wanting some sort of friction on your clit. It’s getting too much.

Smack.

“F-five”, you sob, your thighs contracting as more slick oozes out of your neglected pussy. You are so unbelievably drenched that your mind has completely gone hazy, and you don’t register the way San is stroking your ass to relive some of the numbness of the sting.

San releases your wrists, and has you sit on his lap while presses gentle kisses on your temple, showering you with praises.

“That’s my good kitty. You took them so well. Did I hurt you too much?” He asks, combing your hair from your face before he wipes the tear stain from your cheeks. Your ears twitch.

You shake your head. If he did, you’d probably stop him, and he would have definitely stopped. A soft smile spreads across your partner’s lips as he cups your cheeks, and you feel all ounces of rationality slip out of your mind when his lips are on yours, and your tail coils around his arm by instinct, your ears completely relaxing in his touch.

You push him back when your lips part from his, and you’re sitting directly on his stiff erection. His shorts are so stained from the mixture of his precum and your dirty juices.

“Hit me more when you’re fucking me stupid, please”, you mutter as you grind softy against his hips, San’s groans filling your sensitive ears.

His fingers press against your hips and his tongue peeks at the corner of his lips.

“Naughty kitty.”

#k’s500thisorthat🌶️#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #choi san smut #Choi san #ateez san #San ateez #choi san x reader #san x y/n #san imagines #san x reader

354 notes · View notes

shadowsingercassia · 2 months

Text

Unfated Mates | Chapter 3: "I didn't think that you, out of all people, would stoop so low."

Rhysandxreader (platonic: Cassianxreader, Morriganxreader)

Summary: Rhysand's mate (Feyre) had died and he tried to act like he's fine and try to forget his feelings through you but the thing is, you won't let him get away that easily. How long will it take for him to cave in and talk about his feelings?

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, angst, a bit of fluff (this part is definitely more joyful that the others, because I want our reader to realize that Rhysand is a prick and live her life a little. And then, in Chapter 4 there will certainly be more angst. I just thought that maybe instead of making it all angst, to take some time to develop reader's relationship with other members of the IC and have her forget about Rhysand for a while. Although it starts off angsty, there definitely will be more fluff by the end (and then a few more paragraphs of an angsty end but nothing too much). Enjoy the first non pure angsty fic of the series!

Words: 1.8k

Other parts:

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Her name hit you like a physical blow, a knife to the chest. A dagger that he shoved into your heart. You felt yourself sober up, as if the alcohol had completely subsided from your body, leaving you there, broken.

Pushing Rhysand away from your core, your eyes stared at him, wide and lined with tears. How could he? He just acted interested in you, only to use you and get his feelings for Feyre out of him.

And it hurt to think that a person who was supposed to be your best friend betrayed you like that. That he stooped so low.

You wanted to scream at him and punch him and tell him how much of an asshole he's being. His eyes held confusion, confusion as you stood up and picked up your dress, confusion as you put your dress on again it on again.

He was quick to stand in front of you, and you finally did what you've been wanting to do since the first time he talked to you like you were his enemy. You slap him across the face.

"I didn't think that you, out of all people, would stoop so low." The calmness in your voice surprised you even if the anger simmered off of you in waves.

And then, you head for the door and again, he doesn't stop you.

***

The open star flecked Velaris sky was as always, mesmerizing, beautiful. And yet, he just couldn't enjoy the company of the stars tonight. Why did you always have to be right?

He felt the salty, hot tears roll down his cheeks. What he did was horrible, he knows that and now he's so scared. Rhysand didn't want to lose you and it doesn't matter to him how much he didnt deserve you.

Because even after all that, you are still his best friend, though he doubts he's still yours. You were the only person he truly opened up to, you knew everything, even things that Cassian or Azriel don't know.

And now, he had to watch you walk out of his life. Just like Feyre.

He shouldn't have said her name, but it's true, he did try to have sex with you to forget about Feyre and then he ruined it all, by simply saying her name.

Or, no, he shouldn't have tried to have sex with you in the first place.

Rhysand couldn't blame you for getting mad, or for slapping him. His left cheek still throbbed by the impact and probably would for another day or two. Good, he thought, a reminder of how much of a dick he has been to you.

What did she think of him now? Her words echo in his head, 'I didn't think you, out of all people, would stoop so low.' Although at first he didn't understand why you'd slapped him, your words certainly did it for him. When you've said that, it was like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs, and it felt as if you had just stabbed him. Still shoving a dagger through his heart would've been better than losing you forever.

But why did he still do all that? Not even he could find an answer for that. So he spends the night, staring at the endless expanse of the sky, the stars twinkling like tiny diamonds.

***

You found Cassian the following morning, in the training room and decided to ask for him to spar with you. He's already training shirtless, sweat clinging to his body.

Cassian immediately sensed something was off, in the way eyebags faintly showed under your eyes, at the hint of stained tears. Yes, he didn't hug you or comfort you. He knew that if you wanted him to do that, you would have either asked or done so.

Hazel eyes scanned you from head to toe. You'd thrown on a sports bra and some leather pants this morning, and now you wished that you wore shorter pants.

Sunlight was beaming down on you, making the stray hairs that have fallen out of your braid stick to your neck.

"Can you spar with me?" You asked Cassian, who just flashed you a grin and got into a fighting position. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," he answered.

You mirrored his stance, raising your fists up to your face. For a few moments, you circled each other before you decided to lunge.

Cassian wasn't prepared for you to lunge so suddenly and that caused him to almost take your hit but he managed to block it before your fist made contact with his sternum.

Blocking and attacking, the spar continued on, each punch making your nerves settle down more and more.

He managed to get a few hits on you and you actually found the pain a great distraction. It was as of you could already feel the purple bruises forming on your chest and arms.

Cassian found an opening and punched you in the stomach. Regaining your composure quickly, you move to hit him but he's faster, so you take a few more hits in your chest before your leg kicks out, intending to hit his side.

His hand wrapped around your calf and twisted, making you lose balance and eventually land face first onto the sparring mat beneath.

"Again," your voice comes out sharper than you anticipated. Pushing yourself up, you find Cassian's outstretched hand, eagerly waiting for you to take it.

Raising your eyes to meet his, you find him wearing his usual smirk. So, you don't give him the satisfaction of taking his hand and instead plant your feet firmly onto the ground and pick yourself up.

"If you don't mind me prying, what happened?" Cassian asked. You really did not want to talk about it, even when Cassian felt like your older brother, you just couldn't talk about that, didn't want to talk about that.

"It's nothing, really, don't worry about it," you reply, forcing a brief smile. He frowns, sensing the fake smile, but he respects your boundaries, so if you don't want to tell him, he won't force it out of you.

So you spar with Cassian for the rest of the morning and afternoon, only stopping when you are both panting, droplets of blood staining your skins and the mat beneath you.

The air reeks of your sweat as it rolls down your body in rivulets. "Let's take a break, sweetheart," you frowned as he said that, not exactly content that you now don't have anything to distract you from your mind.

You watched as he strode across the room. "Where are you going?" You call out after him, catching up with his pace.

"What do you expect me to do after an almost whole day sparring?" As if that helped you understand where he was going. "I was just going to eat something, do you want to join me?" He explained and turned to look at you with a smile and you couldn't help but let an actual smile graze your lips.

"As much as I appreciate the offer, Mor set me up with yet another guy." You answer him.

"Then you better go take a shower, sweetheart, you reek of sweat," he teases you and you elbow him. After an exaggerated show of how hard you hit him, you finally reply to him.

"As if you smell any better than I do." At that, he laughs, the sound bringing yet another smile to your lips.

"I guess we both need to get in a bathtub."

'Mhm, I guess so. I'll see you later."

With that, you move past him, walking back into your room to find Morrigan sitting on the edge of your bed.

"Finally! I've been waiting for you- you reek of sweat, get in the bathtub, you're going on a date!" She exclaims, exaggerating a few letters here and there.

Rolling your eyes at her, you walk into you bathing chamber and close the door behind you with a click.

You strip off your clothes, finding the water already warm and waiting. Sinking into the steaming bathtub, you almost moaned in pleasure. Every muscle in your body was so tense all day and now, you let them relax.

Taking your time, scrubbing yourself off, washing your hair, you hear Morrigan. "You don't have all day, hurry up or else I'm coming in there to wash you," chuckling you reply, "I'll hurry up."

After another five minutes, you wrap a towel around yourself and then with another one dry off your hair as best as you can. Opening the door, Morrigan has already spread out a few dresses on your bed.

Every single dress she's picked is simply perfect. Three dresses are laid out in front of you.

One of them is lilac, with a diamond neckline, the short sleeves barely covering your arms. There's a drip in the back that exposes your shoulder blades. Your eyes drift down to the skirt of the dress, it should reach your knees and hug your hips, as Morrigan said.

Your gaze lands on another dress. A more daring color. Deep red with off-shoulder sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. The upper part of your back is exposed. This dress seems tighter, the skirt a bit shorter and with a slit up the thigh.

The third dress is a navy blue with an intricate gold thread embroidered design on the bodice. You don't remember where you had bought this dress and honestly, you're glad Morrigan found it, you love it. You pick it up, running your finger tips across the fabric.

Morrigan stays silent for a while as you go to put on the dress. As you emerge, she could barely keep her jaw from hanging open.

You looked beautiful. The dress hugged you in all the right places and the gold thread glimmers under the receding sun. Smoothing down the skirt and adjusting it, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Your own jaw now was the one hanging open. "You really knew what you were doing when you picked out that dress," you say to her and Morrigan chuckles. "Of course I know what I'm doing when it comes to fashion," you smile at her and she gestures for your to sit down on the chair of your vanity.

Morrigan applies a red lipstick to your lips, stains your eyes with some kohl and darkens your eyelashes. Then, she gets started on your hair. She perfectly curled your hair into loose waves and then pinned them into a detailed hairstyle.

Once she finished, you looked better than The Mother herself. You were a goddess, a vision.

***

The date wasn't bad. Likewise, you found yourself liking that man. But you're just not sure if he's better of as a friend.

Once you got home, you told Morrigan everything, unaware of Rhysand at your door, overhearing your conversation. He had come to apologize, even if he knew you wouldn't forgive him, not now and maybe not ever.

"Was he pretty?" Morrigan asked you. "This man was handsome," he heard your chuckle.

Rhysand doesn't exactly know what's happening to him. Of course, he doesn't want you romantically, he has a mate, he reminded himself of that everyday.

But he couldn't help but want his best friend back.

------------------------☆------------------------

a/n: This is a smaller fic because I left you all at a cliffhanger and also I'm very sorry because I think im being kind of confusing with all that best friend and stuff like that, so I will make it clear that eventually Rhysand and reader will get together. So no more spoilers because I have thought of a few more things that happen (that actually have more plot and action and a little sprinkle of trauma) because ok sure Rhys lost his mate but he still has duties as a High Lord. This fic also doesn't have too much angst except the small part in the beginning and the end.

Series taglist: @hjgdhghoe

Comment '❤️‍🩹' if you want to be added to this series taglist!

Comment '💕' if you want to be added to my general taglist

Love, Cassia! ❤️

#acotar #angst #fanfic #rhysand #acotar angst #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand angst #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #cassian fluff #cassian #cassian acotar #morrigan #mor acotar

102 notes · View notes

admirxation · 6 months

Text

Messy Beauty ~ Astarion oneshot

spawn!Astarion x afab!tav!reader

summary: after an impactful day, you decide to retreat into the lake and relax with Astarion, but you can't help but notice how handsome he is and stare, and he notices this.

cw: this fic contains heavy smut and features vampire blood tasting, this is 18+ only and please read the warnings, continue at your own discretion // heavy smut, consensual vampire neck biting, blood tasting, handjob (m receiving), oral (m receiving), self-pleasure (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), mild tit play, and coming inside. (word count: 1.8k)

You trudged wearily into camp, your muscles protesting every step, needing any rest that was available to you. The journey was doing a number on everybody. It was such a gruelling quest that repeatedly tested the fragility of life, with constant dangers lurking in every corner to drain all your energy.

To help you, you stepped away from the warm and comforting atmosphere of camp to venture with Astarion into the secluded lake nearby for some much-needed leisure for just the two of you. Both of you waited for everyone to sleep or retreat in solitude in their tent before entering that cold cascade of mysterious tranquillity.

As you approched the lake, you both felt a symphony of sensations about to unravel, both of you undressing and exposing your forms before steeping into the cold water. The air was crisp with pine, mingling with a faint fragrance of wildflowers that danced within the concoction of differing and intriguing scents. Furthermore, there was a silver mist of moonlight that cascaded down, and transformed the water into a liquid mirror that shimmered and rippled with inviting ethereal beauty.

The chill of the water, at first, sent shivers down your whole body and elicited soft gasps as you both waded further and felt that refreshing embrace that lake gave to you as your naked bodies dove right in, your bodies now acclimated to the coldness that left goosebumps along your skin. There was a sense of serenity washing over you and Astarion as the moon hung low in the sky, its radiant glow casting a spellbinding beauty over the surrounding landscape, silver beams dancing upon the surface as you danced along in the rippling water that painted midnight blue and a soft hue over you two.

Your heartbeat quickened and deepened when you got close to him, his features bathed in that soft glow, his pale body subjected to that otherworldly light that emphasised his beauty; you couldn't help but watch how the droplets rolled down the curvature of his stomach, feeling a tingling sensation in your core accompanied with that heat that smoothed around your inner thighs — you couldn't help but bite your lip to yourself and play off that you weren't staring right at him.

When it was time to come out of the water, you turned to face him, seeing the water droplets glistening like diamonds in his white hair, then trailing down his body like liquid silver. Still, you turned around and tried to stop staring at him, proceeding to squeeze the remaining water that nestled within the strands of your hair.

You heard the grass press down underneath Astarion's feet as he walked closer to you. He slowly placed his cold hands on your hips, forcing a jolt of surprise to run through you, then proceeding to curl them around you and bringing his lips close to your ear.

"You know it's rude to stare?" that voice, oh that beautiful voice that was filled with a deep smoothness, emulating a sweet treat you long craved. "I'm guessing you liked what you saw?" that teasing voice got to you, making you twirl around and have your gaze meet his red eyes that was intermingled with a lustrous look, and one of admiration of your beauty.

"Am I not allowed to like what I see?" you cooed in his ear, feeling his hand wrap around you waist before reaching one his hands to your cheek, you proceeding in an automatic movement of nesting the plush of your cheek into his hand.

He moved slowly, and you reciprocated as you two pressed your soft and glossy lips against one another, intimately sharing a connection that got deeper with every interlock; that heat you had firmly felt in the lake was now coming back in waves, yearning rolling inside you and begging for more of Astarion's touch — your stomach felt like it was in knots as you felt him tenderly kiss you, and feeling his tongue glide along yours. With no further thought, you instinctively moved forward, feeling his hardened length press against your cunt, which was getting wetter as you anticipated and begged for his next movement. You heard his breath hitch as he felt your warmth against his inner thighs.

"My, my... Aren't you excited?" you blushed at his words; he always had a way with metatheatrical romance, his expressions and mannerisms effortlessly being able to serenade and entice, but it was different with you; you could remember your first night together. It was great, but looking back, you knew he was only exercising what he had learned from automatic actions over those years of torment. But with you, he could be natural, with no acts up his sleeve and no extravagant language to make you surrender to him; it was just a beautiful moment of mutual wanting.

You felt him pull your lower half closer to his, tilting his head slowly to reach your neck: "Such a beautiful... delicious girl," he cooed in your ear. He softly left pecks on your supple neck, leaving a small trail of licks as he continued to make you shiver with anticipation.

You tilted your neck, trusting him and letting him do whatever he wanted, closing your eyes and biting your lip gently as you waited to feel those sharp teeth pierce through your delicate skin, to feel that sharp pain jitter through you and shake you to your core; with invitation, you felt his sharpened teeth graze along, but only feeling a slight scratching pain as he pricked the surface of your skin, breaking a small barrier as he let that line of blood trail down the curve of your neck, and using his wet and rough tongue to collect the pool of warm red blood, sucking your skin with hunger.

"Gods," you whispered as you let out multiple heavy and laboured breaths under his control, feeling his cock hardening against you and prodding in between your thighs.

You took the opportunity to trail your hands down and collect your fingers around the base of his length, feeling him twitch under his grasp as his breathing got deeper and his movements quicking as he swirled his tongue with more urgency along the broken layer of skin.

Your hand moved to tease the tip of his cock, already feeling the dribble of precum nestling the tip; you could feel how tense he was with how your fingers glided up and down the base of his shaft, feeling your core tighten and your slit getting wetter as you felt him tense and shake under your grasp. He whined as you continued to pump your hand slowly and gently, squeezing the base, shuddering and lightly moaning as you reached your spare hand and trickled your fingers through his damp hair, your opposite hands fingers still covering his throbbing erection.

It felt torturous as your hand continued to feather up and down his hot skin, taking the moment as he kicked his head back while he groaned to descend and feel that mossy grass underneath your knees slowly. Now, you were eye level with his twitching length that was begging for more.

"You don't have to," he told you in a whispered hush.

"Oh shush, I want to," you answered as you continued to stare into his red eyes, continuing to journey your hand along his elongated and protruding vein along his large and thick shaft.

Your lips softly surrounded the head, swirling your tongue around as you gently squeezed the base until you forced your mouth around him, releasing muffled moans as he placed his hands and let his fingers venture through the strands of your silky hair.

"F-fuck," he whined as he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning as he pushed his hips further into you, biting his lip as he continued to feel your mouth cover his cock, his hands tangling your hair as you continued to gag on his length as he fucked your throat and stared into your beautiful eyes.

That tingling sensation between your legs couldn't be ignored anymore as you reached your fingers along your folds and pressed your ring and middle fingers together to rub your puffy clit in unison to pleasuring Astarion. He was practically a mess as your head continued to bob up and down, not wanting to leave this moment... Until he could hear your muffled moans increase in variety and volume and not want you to do it all by yourself.

He placed his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look up at him and stop your movements: "I can't let you do all the hard work," he said with seduction and charm as he knelt down, cupping your warm face that was overwhelmed with blush on your cheeks, leaving you a quick kiss before gently and slowly pushing you down and climbing on top of you; you could feel him push against your wet pussy, making you release a gentle and breathy moan as Astarion positioned himself in between your thighs as he aligned himself with your wet entrance.

Before continuing, he bent over to leave a trail of kisses, then licked that previous bite that left a red stain and bruise, continuing to leave soft kisses on your chest before placing his honeyed lips on your pebbled nipple, leaving a short and gentle bite and pull that made you release a sharp gasp. His tender kisses moved down to your stomach and navel before lifting himself up to stroke his cock along your slit, prodding your entrance.

"P-please, A-Astarion, I want you so bad," you whimpered, begging for that sweet release that had been building up inside you for so long. You were met with a smirk playing at the corner of his lips and a simple 'Of course, darling' as he slowly pressed himself inside your wet hole, your breathing getting heavier with each moan, your chest getting heavier under his altered will.

"Gods," he muttered as he felt your walls surround him, "so. Fucking. Beautiful," he complimented you in between thrusts as he pushed into your tight entrance that squeezed him, rocking his hips back and forth and your moans filling the surrounding landscape as you felt very inch of him go deeper and deeper within you.

You continued to moan as Astarion grabbed onto one of your breasts, pounding himself inside you as your huffed groans kept going.

He gave you no warnings as his pace quickened, the head of his cock kissing that special spot inside of you that made you whine his name at enlarged volumes, and that made Astarion so close to his own release as he watched your chest rise when you reached your orgasm.

"Fuck," he spat as he felt your tight walls get even tighter in your sweet release, making him spurt inside you and letting his hot cum trickle inside and pool out.

He couldn't help but admire what a messy beauty you were in the moonlight.

authors note: I’ve been craving to get some Astarion content out, I’m so in love with him, and I was inspired by watching a streamer play a shadowheart romance, and the swimming scene is engrained in my head haha. I hope you liked this and all engagement is appreciated, have a lovely day/evening *kiss kiss*

159 notes · View notes

i99zhuo · 7 months

Note

Could u make a routine inspired by kazuha ?

How to live like kazuha ⋆𐙚.ೃ⊹🩰°｡𓏲⋆𖦹 🦢₊˚ kazuhaism routine

This is a guide on daily routines inspired by le sserafim’s Kazuha! thanks for the request, hope you enjoy it!!

content list (routines):

morning

study

workout

shower + self care

night

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗ ˖࣪ ໒꒱ ˚₊·

✸ ꒰ morning routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🎀 Kazuha starts her days by getting straight out of bed! You can take a few minutes just to think about your dreams or to meditate but after you're done get up without thinking so you avoid lazyness. After, head to the bathroom to do your hygiene routine (washing your teeth, face, body, etc.)

After you do your skincare, it's time for makeup, if i had to describe Zuha’s makeup in a few words i would use ‘natural’ ‘light’ and ‘clean’, even tho she uses as many products as other idols I've already talked about (brow pencil, eyeshadow, base makeup, contour, lashes, eyeliner, blush and lip tint), her makeup still pretty much simple, like just to enhance her natural features.

🧸Time to get dressed, Kazuha usually wears tops or basic t-shirts with baggy sweatpants, the colors she wears the most are white, black and gray. stylize the outfit with a beret or sunglasses!

Finally for breakfast, a good option is to have a sandwich with coffee, however any recipe that includes a lot of veggies in it will be ideal!

✸ ꒰ study routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🩰 One of Zuha's favorite things is trying new things and showing progress! So always make sure to experiment with different study styles, techniques and resources. also, remember that progress is not about going from an F to an A, but about improving slowly and enjoying the path to your goals.

To learn and practice her Korean, Kazuha reviews vocabulary daily, using it on small phrases to memorize their meaning. As a visual learner, she also associates words with drawings and writes in her notebook often.

🥥 And to improve her English she usually practices talking with Yunjin. You can ask a friend to tutor you in any signature you feel you are lacking and make learning fun!

✸ ꒰ workout routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🪷 Kazuha’s most famous charm is her healthy and beautiful body, as well as her flexibility. She workouts everyday in her dorm room, and has a lot of different workout routines, so I decided to make a schedule so you can try them all!

monday -> le sserafim workout (no jumps / low impact), Kazuha new abs workout and full body stretch.

tuesday -> le sserafim workout (short version), Kazuha upper body workout, stretch

wednesday -> le sserafim workout, Kazuha abs workout, stretch

thursday -> le sserafim workout, upper body workout, stretch

friday -> le sserafim workout, kazuha lower abs workout, stretch

saturday -> le sserafim (short), upper body, stretch

sunday -> le sserafim workout (no jumps / low impact), stretch

🌷 Also, you can try and enroll in a ballet class, it's never too late to try!

✸ ꒰ shower + self care routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Before taking your shower, take off your makeup with micellar water or an oil based cleanser. Then bath like you would normally do, but start your shower with lukewarm water and finish with a cold rinse!

🦢 Then use a soft foam cleanser to wash your face, let it air dry, and then use a gentle toner, calming ampoule and cream to set the moisture.

Now for self care, Zuha enjoys spending time doing diamond paintings or other kinds of diys, like decorating phone cases. She also videocalls her friends often in her free time, spending time with friends really helps with our mental health! You can also try and make little handmade gifts for your besties.

✸ ꒰ night routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🐩 Dinner time! eat a yogurt bowl with nuts and honey (or any toppings you like) and eat it while watching youtube videos.

After eating she takes her journal and writes about her day and her emotions, she tries to be as concise as possible so no matter if she’s tired or doesn't have time she's still able to reflect on her day!

👛 Then she does her last review on the things she's studying, doing this before going to sleep helps you remember it better.

If she's with the members she will obviously watch a scary movie and have fun with her friends before going to bed!

💋 Finally stretch a little in your bed to be more flexible, have a better posture and to help you to fall asleep faster!

Good night!

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗ ˖࣪ ໒꒱ ˚₊·

Heyyy tysm for reading hope you liked it even if it was a little rushed!

I closed my request cus I kept getting them and I really want to focus on the ones that I already have hehe but don't worry I will re-open them once im done!

Also while making this I noticed it was really similar to the how to live like Yunjin I was making sooo idk if I should finish it or not, what do u guys think?

anyways I think that's all

toodlezzzzz!11!!1

180 notes · View notes

mono-dot-jpeg · 10 months

Text

some real nagi thoughts

a/n; it's some god gamer nagi time. as a gamer myself, i want some real gamer shit in headcanons. we may want a duo in gaming but only in genshin??? HELL NO. im like half sorry to genshin players. there's probably some crazy power creep in that, with the amount of characters they have now

[implied to be no blue lock project]

unapologetic gamer! nagi who hate matching pfps and usernames. do you know how weird those can get, especially on the horniest fps games? he doesn't hate you for the idea, he hates the reputation that comes with it.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who plays (mostly) everything, mmos, rpgs, card battlers, moba, rts, auto battlers, etc. he does not limit himself (kind of), and he's okay with playing games on his own.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who cannot simply pause his online matches for you. you'll have a damn hard time getting him off those ones. "it's too much of a bother to leave the match now, i'll get a timeout if i leave."

unapologetic gamer! nagi who hates gacha games because "it's always more of a cash grab than most games i even play." and he plays games from riot and ea company.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who has definitely went free to play on other games just out of pure spite when he heard about how bad genshin was. "there's no excuse for them to be so stingy, they didn't learn from honkai impact."

unapologetic gamer! nagi who loves gore and horror games more than anything. he won't stop playing those. he'll be considerable enough to play away from you if you hate them, but he's like locked in, headphones on max, and stuck in his chair. you're not getting him back for hours.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who plays slow games despite how much they make him tired. he can't play life/farming sims because of this. he can do his best to speedrun it but he gets impatient.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who jumps from game to game. he gets fixated on different games every few months. when you see him, he's talking about them casually, or he's infodumping everything he physically can. he has that little passionate shine in his eyes, like when he plays a good game of soccer.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who plays ranked like the loser he is. he doesn't really care about the toxic people in those matches. he likes a challenge. but he does unintentionally rile people up though with his nonchalant and blunt words. don't play ranked with this man, he is in diamond/low masters, and he is so tilted about it even if he doesn't say it.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who definitely needs to be taken care of. god help him, reo was a godsend to deal with his shit. when he gets tilted, he's somehow even more lazier than he normally is. "being angry is such a hassle." but you know he's fucking pissed off out of his mind about to smash his desk about that one bad match that gets him de-ranked.

#blue lock nagi #blue lock x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #bllk nagi #bllk x reader #bllk nagi seishiro

221 notes · View notes

artbyblastweave · 5 months

Text

Something I find interesting about the Lizard League is that these guys are supervillain supervillains, costumed in the classic mold- Salamander with the impossibly-skintight patterned-cloth costume, Iguana with the tight-tights-and-animal-headpiece combo, Komodo with that 70s-style strongman cowl-and-jersey, King Lizard with the Baron Strucker-style double-breasted greatcoat. These guys are unrepentant in their design. And in the comics, where the Sequid arc didn't happen till around issue 40, these guys were part of this established stable of villains who'd show up as fodder for montages and one-off fights where they needed to have a hero beating up someone who's clearly a supervillain, never mind who. That meant that their eventual escalation to nuclear terrorism after 30+ issues of low-rent stuff, and the ensuing clusterfuck, actually parsed as a meaningful escalation from the established status quo. These guys are breaking the rules. Supervillains do stuff like this sometimes, sure, but not this kind of supervillain- these guys are doing MCU-style unmarked-Kevlar terroristic supervillainy when they should be doing lizard-themed gimmick crimes or Super-friends stuff!

Well, no, that's not quite true. It feels true, but honestly there are plenty of examples of campy big-two villains doing flat-out nuclear terrorism pretty early on, actually. Just to pick some examples from X-Men, Magento did it in his first appearance, and the ANAD lineup's first real outing was to stop Count Nefaria from hijacking NORAD. Screwing around with the military's world-ending shit is downright commonplace for supervillains, once you start tallying it up. But between the goofy kid-gloves approach of a lot of early silver-age comics and the sheer volume of Stuff that's happened in the Marvel and DC continuities, the impact of attempted nuclear terrorism inevitably gets sanded down, it just becomes one more data point in the endless ebb and flow- hell, it can result in actual nuclear detonations, and eventually it's going to get sanded over. In the nineties, Vandal Savage actually nuked Montevideo using depreciated USSR stock. Is that salient, these days? This event that would have reshaped geopolitics had it happened in our world? So yeah, supervillains make a run on the nukes all the time- but it doesn't count if you do it in a onesie with your initials stenciled on it.

But Invincible, as a self-contained continuity, actually has the ability to maintain perspective and appropriately weigh a grab at the nuclear arsenal - it's very much not business as usual, it's not part of the typical cops-and-robbers runaround. It's not stealing a priceless diamond, it's not a bank job, it's not even rampaging through the city center with a giant robot. It's a credible attempt to end the world, it's a challenge to government power that they won't let stand, costumes or no. It's the government sponsored super team coming in guns blazing trying their damnedest to kill you from the word go, and its you trying to kill them equally hard because there's really no coming back from this if you lose. And it ends up that treating this situation with a commonsense level of gravity acts as a deconstructive backhand against every similar situation in the comics that ends with the villain shaking their fist and escaping at the last minute.

#every capeshit beat becomes fresh when freed from the cement-shoes of continuity #invincible #thoughts #meta #invincible show #invincible season 2 #lizard league

100 notes · View notes

heart-ripping · 4 months

Text

Behind Closed Doors.

pairing: Regina Mills (The Evil Queen) X Reader

summary: in the public eye, feared by all in her kingdom. the evil queen reveals a hidden side where she kneels before the woman who secretly controls her heart and an unexpected twist.

words: 3542 words, 20798 characters.

warnings(+18): queen!regina, maid!reader, ownership, abuse of power, submission, pet names, usage of magic, poisoning, praise kink(brief), degrading kink(slight), slight blood and violence.

this scenario came up in my head and i got distracted along the way but i just HAD to write this. hope u guys like this one!

──────────

The grand hall of the throne room was a place of opulence and dread. Gilded columns lined the vast space, their surfaces etched with intricate designs of ancient conquests and mythical beasts. The high, arched ceiling was a tapestry of celestial scenes, painted in vivid hues that seemed to come alive in the flickering light of the grand chandeliers.

At the far end of this magnificent room, elevated on a dais of polished marble, sat the Evil Queen, the ruler whose beauty was matched only by her ruthlessness.

Regina's throne, carved from obsidian and adorned with precious gems, seemed to absorb the light around it, casting an ominous shadow over herself. She sat with cruel authority, her posture rigid, and her gaze piercing. Her eyes scanned the assembled knights and courtiers with a mix of disdain and indifference. She wore a gown of deep crimson, the color of freshly spilled blood, its fabric flowing around her like liquid fire. A crown of black diamonds rested on her brow, its sharp points catching the light in menacing glints.

The knights before her, clad in gleaming armor, shifted uneasily. Their leader, Sir Graham, stepped forward, his expression a mask of grim determination. He bowed low, the sound of his armor clanking echoing through the hall.

"Your Majesty," Graham began, his voice steady but edged with tension, "we have captured the rebels who dared to defy your rule. They await your judgment in the dungeons."

The Queen leaned forward slightly, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Bring them before me," she commanded, her voice a melodious contrast to the venom in her words. "Let us see these fools who thought they could challenge my reign."

As the doors to the throne room swung open, a group of ragged prisoners were dragged in by the guards. Their faces were smeared with dirt and blood, and their eyes were filled with a mix of defiance and fear. Regina's gaze swept over them, her smile widening as she saw their pitiful state.

"You dare to defy me?" she hissed, her voice rising. "You dare to incite rebellion against your queen?" She stood abruptly, the motion causing the knights to flinch. "I am the law in this kingdom. My word is absolute. Those who challenge me face only one fate."

She descended the steps of the dais with a predatory grace, her gown flowing behind her like a river of fire. She stopped before the nearest prisoner, a young man with a battered face and a defiant glare. Regina reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at her.

"Do you know what happens to traitors in my kingdom?" she asked softly, her voice dripping with malice.

The young man spat at her feet, his defiance unbroken. Regina's eyes blazed with fury. She raised her hand, and with a swift, brutal motion, backhanded him across the face. The sound of the impact echoed through the hall, and the man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"Take him to the dungeons," she ordered the guards, her voice returning to its heartless tone. "Let him rot with the rest of the scum."

She turned her attention back to Graham and the other knights. "You will root out every last one of these rebels," she demanded. "I want no corner of my kingdom left unchecked. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the knights chorused, their voices trembling slightly.

Regina returned to her throne, her expression once again a mask of uncaring detachment. "Now go," she ordered. "And remember, failure is not an option."

As the knights hurried out of the throne room, Regina's gaze lingered on the empty doorway, a faint smile playing on her lips. She relished the fear she instilled in her subjects, the absolute power she wielded. Here, in the public eye, she was the embodiment of cruel, unyielding authority, a queen who demanded and gained respect through fear and intimidation.

The grand hallways of the castle, lined with ornate tapestries and dimly lit by flickering torches, felt eerily silent as soon as the night began to cast its dark veil. The Evil Queen, her presence imposing even in solitude, walked with measured steps, the sound of her heels echoing through the empty corridors. Her crimson gown, now slightly trailing with the fatigue of the day's harsh rulings, whispered to the shadows that danced along the walls.

As she reached her private chambers, the heavy oak doors creaked open to reveal a sanctuary of opulence and grandeur. The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight streaming through a large window, its beams reflecting off the polished surfaces of gilded furniture and priceless artifacts. Regina closed the doors behind her and sighed, a sound that was more a hiss of displeasure than a release of exhaustion. She moved to her grand canopy bed, its silken sheets cool and inviting. Sitting on the edge, she removed her crown, placing it on the bedside table with a clink of metal against the marble.

Collapsing onto the bed, she allowed herself a moment to breathe, to let the day's relentless performance of power slip away. Her eyes fluttered shut, but the reprieve was brief. A soft knock at the door interrupted her fleeting solace.

"Enter," she groaned frustratedly, her voice sharp despite the weariness that tugged at her.

The door opened hesitantly, revealing a young maid with wide, fearsome eyes. You stepped into the room, your hands trembling as you clutched a silver tray with a goblet of wine.

"I did not summon you," Regina expressed harshly, her eyes narrowing at you.

"I apologize, Your Majesty," you stammered, your voice trembling. "I assume you might enjoy some wine to help you unwind."

Regina's gaze remained unflattering, yet she made no move to dismiss you. "You presume much, entering my chambers without permission. Do not forget your place," she declared, her tone a mix of irritation and authority.

You bowed your head, your face reddening with humiliation. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," you whispered, stepping forward and placing the tray on a nearby table.

Regina's eyes flicked to the wine, then back to you, her expression inscrutable. "Leave it and go," she said curtly, dismissing you with a wave of her hand.

Regina's focus snapped back to the glass of wine, the deep crimson liquid swirling hypnotically in the dimly lit room. She raised the elegant crystal glass to her lips. The tantalizing aroma of the rich red wine filled the air around her. She took a slow, deliberate sip, savoring the complex flavors dancing on her palate.

However, just as the velvety liquid touched her tongue, an unusual sensation sent a shiver down her spine. It was as if something otherworldly surged through the wine, enveloping her senses in a swirling embrace. A rush of warmth spread from her mouth to the tips of her fingers, and at that moment, her eyes seemed to flash a deep, eerie shade of red.

Her heart quickened, and for an instant, the world around her seemed to blur and twist before the feeling vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving her bewildered and breathless.

You stood as you observed, before lowering your head and retreating towards the door. But just as your hand touched the handle, Regina's voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"Stop."

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. You spun slowly, your eyes broad with apprehension. Regina's attention was fixed on you as she slowly rose from her mattress, her eyes so unwavering and intense, a strange intensity burning in those dark-brown depths. The room seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with an unspoken tension.

"Come here," Regina commanded softly, her voice laced with an undercurrent of something darker—something that sent a shiver down your spine.

You hesitated, your eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Then you took tentative steps forward, your hands still trembling. As you neared the bed, Regina extended a hand, gesturing for you to approach quickly.

"Closer," the queen murmured, her voice now a low purr. You obeyed, stopping just within arm's reach of the bed. Regina's eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail of your appearance.

"Do you know why I keep you?" Regina asked, her tone as cold as the winter's night outside.

You shook your head slightly, your eyes settled on the floor. "No, Your Majesty," you responded softly.

Regina tilted her head to the side, studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. With a bold, prideful motion, she lifted your chin. "I keep you because you amuse me. Because you are loyal. And because..." She paused, a slow smile spreading across her lips. "Because you fear me."

Your breath fastened, your eyes darting up to meet her gaze. For a moment, something flickered in her stare—an emotion too fleeting to name.

"Pour me the wine," Regina commanded, her voice regaining its usual imperious edge.

With trembling hands, you picked up the goblet and the carafe, carefully pouring the deep red liquid. You held the goblet out to Regina, your head bowed low. Regina took it, your fingers brushing momentarily. The moment your fingers brushed against each other, a jolt of electricity shot through both of you, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it.

Regina brought the wine to her lips once more, her eyes never leaving you as she swallowed. The rich, dark liquid seemed to invigorate her, and her gaze grew more intense, more penetrating. She drank deeply, each sip refined and unhurriedly, the tension in the room palpable. You stood frozen, your heart thumping in your body, unable to look away from her piercing stare.

As Regina lowered the goblet, her eyes began to glow with an eerie, otherworldly red light. The transformation was subtle at first, a flicker of crimson that slowly intensified until her eyes blazed like embers. You inhaled sharply, taking an involuntary step back, but Regina's gaze held you in place, a silent command that rooted you to the spot.

Without breaking eye contact, Regina set the goblet aside. The room seemed to shrink around you both, the air thick with a tension that was almost tangible. The Evil Queen, the epitome of regal authority, began to move with a grace that was both conscious and assertive. She took a step forward, and then another, her eyes never wavering from you.

And then, in a move that defied all expectations, Regina began to kneel. Her knees touched the ground, her crimson gown pooling around her like a river of blood. Your breath was caught in your throat, and your eyes were wide with shock. You had never seen the queen show vulnerability, let alone kneel before anyone.

Regina's head bowed for a moment, her long, dark hair cascading around her shoulders like a silken veil. When she lifted her gaze, you were met with the full intensity of those glowing red eyes. They were filled with something unspoken—a mix of need and surrender that left your heart racing.

Regina's voice, when it came, was a low, husky whisper. "I am yours," she said, the words almost a plea. "Command me."

You stared down at Regina, your mind racing to make sense of the scene unfolding before you. The Evil Queen, who ruled with an iron fist and inspired fear in all who crossed her path, was now on her knees, submitting to you. It was a moment that shattered all perceptions, leaving you both terrified and exhilarated.

As Regina looked up at you, her red eyes blazing with a strange, fervent intensity, you felt a power shift you had never imagined possible. The night outside grew darker and more silent, as if the world itself were waiting to see what would happen next.

Your heart continued to pulse in your chest, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You began to reach out a quivering hand, your fingers brushing lightly against her cheek. Regina closed her eyes at the touch, a shiver running through her.

"My Queen," you whispered, your voice a mix of awe and confusion.

"Command me," Regina repeated, her voice more insistent, her eyes fluttering to lock onto yours once again. The red glow seemed to pulse with her heartbeat, a visual manifestation of her inner turmoil and desire.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tracing a path down her cheek to her chin. You tilted Regina's head up, causing her to look directly into your eyes. The power you felt in that moment was intoxicating, a heady mix of exhilaration.

"Stand," you ordered gently, yet firmly.

For a moment, it seemed as if Regina might resist, but then she obeyed, rising gracefully to her feet. The red glow in her eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by a look of deep, unspoken emotion.

As the tension thickened in the chamber, the air seemed to crackle with an unspoken electricity. The Evil Queen, her eyes still shining with a dim scarlet glow, watched you with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. Regina's own vulnerability—her unexpected submission—had left her on edge, her instincts warring with the unfamiliar sensations coursing through her veins.

But as your grin began to appear slowly across your lips, Regina's unease deepened. There was something unsettling about the way you looked at her—a gleam of triumph in your eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.

"What is it?" Regina asked, her voice low and cautious.

Your grin enlarged, and your eyes sparkled with newfound confidence. "Oh, nothing, Your Majesty," you replied, your tone innocent yet tinged with something darker, something that set Regina's nerves on edge.

Before she could respond, you took a step forward, your movements intended and purposeful. Regina tensed, her instincts screaming at her to flee, to regain control of the situation before it spiraled out of her grasp. But something held her in place—a strange fascination with the woman standing before her, a fascination tinged with a growing sense of dread.

"What have you done?" Regina demanded, her voice betraying her rising panic.

Your smile dilated further, a flash of triumph in your eyes. "I simply offered you a drink, My Queen," you stated, your tone mocking with a hint of sarcasm. "A drink laced with a little something extra."

Regina's heart skipped a beat, her mind racing to comprehend the implications of your words. A spell. The wine had been enchanted with a spell, a trance designed to force submission and bend the will of its drinker to the caster's command. And she had drunk it willingly, having allowed herself to be ensnared by its insidious power.

The realization sent a surge of anger through Regina's veins, her fear giving way to a burning fury that threatened to consume her. She clenched her jaw, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

"You dare to manipulate me?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Your smile faltered slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your features. But then you straightened, your gaze defiant.

"You've ruled with fear and cruelty for too long, Your Majesty," you grimaced, your voice steady despite the tension crackling between you both. "It's time for a change."

Regina's mind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of rage and betrayal. She had been outmaneuvered, outsmarted by a mere servant. The humiliation burned like acid, eating away at her pride and her power. But beneath the anger, beneath the fear, there was something else, something she couldn't quite name—a spark of admiration, perhaps, for the woman who had dared to challenge her, to defy her.

The room seemed to spin around you, the air heavy with the weight of your confrontation. Regina narrowed her gaze as she bore into yours, searching for any hint of weakness, any sign of vulnerability. But you stood tall and stubborn, your eyes blazing with a fierce determination that sent a thrill of something akin to admiration through Regina's veins.

And then, in a sudden, unpredictable twist of luck, Regina felt something shift within her. It was as if a dam had burst, releasing a flood of emotions she had long kept buried deep within her heart. Fear, anger, pride—all of it melted away, leaving only a strange sense of liberation in its wake.

Regina's eyes flashed, but this time—a glowing purple hue, reflecting the intensity of her emotions as she felt a familiar purple mist slowly enveloping her entire body before it disappeared like a mist of strings. Regina smirked in delightful satisfaction as she began to realize what was happening. The spell—the spell had worked, but not as you had planned. Instead of forcing Regina to submit, it had stripped away the layers of armor she had built around herself, revealing the powerful woman beneath.

A slow, rueful smile spread across her lips as she looked at you, her eyes alight with a newfound clarity. "Foolish girl, you thought you could control me," she snickered playfully, her voice soft yet filled with an undeniable strength. "But you underestimated me."

You flinched in disbelief, the ground suddenly feeling unsteady beneath you as doubt crept in for the first time since your intense altercation formed. "What are you saying?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the beat of your heart.

Regina moved closer, taking a step forward to narrow the distance between you. "Let me make it clear for you," she towered over you, her voice low and husky, dripping with malicious intent, sending shivers down your spine as if darkness itself had taken form in her words. "You may have thought you had me at your mercy, but you were wrong."

And then, with a sudden, swift movement, Regina reached out and forcefully clutched your wrist, pulling you close until your bodies were inches apart. You breathe in, but before you can react, Regina leans in and smashes her lips against yours.

As your lips met in a searing kiss, a sudden rush of sensation swept through the both of you. Regina's heart throbbed in her chest, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. As she continued to manifest her dominance, Regina began to fiercely insert her tongue into your mouth, and a strange, tingling sensation began to spread through your lips as if something were coating your tongue with a thick, viscous liquid.

Regina pulled back abruptly, a sinister laugh could be heard from her lips as she looked down at you. The wine had transferred to your mouth during your kiss, carrying with it the control spell that had been intended for her.

You panted heavily, your pupils dilating in horror as the harsh reality dawned on you. You staggered back, your hand flying to your mouth as you tasted the bitter, metallic tang of the enchanted wine. Your heart raced with panic as you struggled to comprehend the implications of what had just occurred.

Regina's gaze hardened as she watched your reaction, a cold fury burning in her eyes. "Pathetic," she snickered, her voice dripping with disdain. "It seems the tables have turned."

You stumbled backwards, your mind spinning with fear and confusion. You had never intended for things to escalate like this, never anticipated that the spell would backfire in such a catastrophic manner. You had only wanted to level the playing field, to challenge the queen's power and authority. But now, as you felt the weight of the spell pressing down on you, you realized that you had made a grave mistake.

Regina's amusement grew as she advanced on you, her movements gradual and greedy. "Did you really think you could overpower me?" she teased, her voice a deadly whisper. "I'll show you what it means to be at someone else's mercy."

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you felt her body cornering you against the wall with your heart throbbing painfully in your chest. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape, but there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. You were trapped, ensnared by your own arrogance and folly.

Regina's hand shot out and seized your jaw in a firm, unrelenting grip, causing you to tilt your head upwards to meet her gaze full of hatred and revenge.

"Don't hold it back," She ridicules, her voice low and taunting. "Let it come." Your eyes blinked rapidly and glazed with a mix of terror and the residual effects of the spell, locked onto Regina's, searching for any hint of mercy, of reprieve. But there was none to be found.

Her fingers dug into the soft flesh of your cheeks, her nails biting into your skin with enough force to leave marks. You winced, but the queen's grip only tightened further.

Regina's eyes never left you, her expression a twisted mask of conquering and ruthlessness. She reveled in your helplessness, in the way you whimpered beneath her touch. Regina began to lean toward your side, her lips brushing against your ear, her voice a seductive whisper.

"Good girl," she praised, her voice a hush, raspy whisper filled with dark satisfaction. "That's right. You belong to me." You closed your eyes, a single tear slipping down your cheek as you surrendered to The Evil Queen's will.

──────────

#regina mills x reader #regina mills #evil queen #evil queen x reader #ouat #ouat imagine #regina mills fanfiction #once upon a time #lana parrilla

139 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 11 months

Text

"Oh dear, what an awkward situation."

Awkward indeed… 😅

With this, I’ve completed the “Rollo is tormented by visiting the dorms” series of headcanons 🫶 Hope you enjoyed, Roro-chan 💕 (I still have some Rollo at the Writing Desk interactions to post after this, so technically his torment isn’t over quite yet…)

A Big Diasomnia Welcome to Rollo!

“At last, I have completed my itinerary. There is nothing more for me to see here, nor do, at Night Raven College.” That’s what Rollo tells himself as his stay crawls to its final few days. He has done it—through sheer mental fortitude and hatred he has endured this cesspit and avoided being dragged into Draconia's domain!!

Rollo is returning to his temporary quarters for the night when he notices that the fireflies are out. Glowing orbs flit by him in a slow, showy dance. Strange, he thinks. It’s well into autumn now. They shouldn’t be out past summertime.

... But something is wrong. The fireflies are swarming, coalescing into a single humanoid form. There is a blinding flash, and the glowing orbs are flung outward again, ushering in a new presence. Tall, dark, handsome, and crowned by a distinctive set of devilish horns. Rollo takes a stumbling step backwards. "YOU!!"

Malleus Draconia, in the flesh. The fae prince gives a toothy smile, reaching out a hand to him. "Good evening, Flamme. What an honor it is to be reunited with you. It has been far too long.”

“Not nearly long enough if you ask me,” Rollo snaps. He turns away and briskly walks toward his housing, prepared to slam the door in Malleus’s face—but Malleus has poofed away and reappeared to block his path. “Going so soon? But we’ve yet to have the chance to properly catch up. I was going to extend an invitation to a most extravagant dinner party in Diasomnia."

"I have no interest in such a thing," Rollo declares, weaving around him. "Good-bye." This time, Malleus does not follow. He stands there, eyes intensely bearing into Rollo as he flings open the door to his abode and... "What in the world?!"

Beyond the frame is not the usual foyer, but instead a sinister new scene, morbid stone and diamond-stitched furniture faintly illuminated by eerie green candlelight. An ominous throne waits along the far end and up two mirrored slights of stairs. The Diasomnia lounge.

Rollo whips his head back, glaring at Malleus. "You're responsible for this wicked enchantment, aren't you? You're not giving me any say in this matter." To that, Malleus only darkly chuckles. "It is the duty of any good host to ensure that his guest is comfortable and feels... welcomed. Fufufu, I am playing my part well, wouldn't you agree?"

"Feh! To weaponize your magic for such a trivial, petty thing... I never thought the great and powerful Malleus Draconia would be so low as to stoop to kidnapping," Rollo glowers. "You continue to drop the bar of my expectations for you. I would be impressed if I didn't utterly loathe you and your entire existence. Know this, Draconia: I won’t fall for such an obvious scheme. I would sooner set myself ablaze than play into your hands."

Malleus doesn’t seem to be bothered by the declaration so full of passion and hatred. He grins mysteriously and waves a hand. “Silver, Sebek. You may do as you will with our dear guest.”

A collective “YESSIR!!” sounds from behind Rollo—he turns too late, for the two guards have emerged and reached out from the magical doorway to Diasomnia. Rollo (helplessly struggling like a fly caught in a spider’s web) is seized by the two burly men and hauled through the gate, Malleus casually strolling in and closing the door after himself.

Rollo is (aggressively) seated on (well, more like chucked onto) one of Diasomnia’s couches. His body aches from the impact, his vision swimming from the shock. Sebek and Silver loom over him, preventing his escape.

“Sorry about this,” Silver says apologetically. “Malleus-sama’s orders.” Sebek, on the other hand, is far less forgiving. “Hmph!! Consider yourself fortunate that the young master is as merciful as he is! AND THANK HIM FOR THE INVITATION IN SPITE OF YOUR PREVIOUS TRANSGRESSIONS!!”

“Now, now! Let’s not scare the poor lad, boys,” a deep voice advises them. FWUMP!! A short boy with dark hair and magenta streaks descends from the ceilings, spooking away what is left of Rollo’s soul. “Lilia Vanrouge, vice dorm leader of Diasomnia."

Lilia vigorously grabs and shakes Rollo’s hand. His grip is immense—a contrast to his youthful appearance—practically crushing Rollo’s fingers. Rollo yanks his head back in alarm. "Teehee, did I do that?" Lilia asks innocently. "Silly me, I don't know my own strength!" (... Rollo doesn't believe him.)

"So excited to finally meet you! I’ve heard so many stories—like how you’re the first person to have struck fear into the heart of our Malleus.” Beaming like the sun on a cloudless day, Lilia leans into their guest’s ear and whispers, “There had better not be any of the same stunts you tried to pull the night of the masquerade~ You try any of that funny business again and Lilia-chan will make sure you regret it <3”

Rollo is unnerved by the message—it’s friendly and teasing, but a vaguely threatening tone lies beneath it. When he looks again at the young-looking boy, he sees the darkness radiating off of him, the ancient wisdom in his eyes. A shiver rolls through his spine.

"Kufufu. Juuuust kidding! Let's all be the best of friends, okay?" Lilia says with a cheeky wink. Rollo's not sure if his cheer or his seriousness is more disturbing.

Malleus is so glad that everyone has gotten acquainted! It’s been so long since they’ve had the opportunity to host someone. He looks as jubilant as a kid in a candy store (whereas Rollo looks like a cat on the side of the road that someone splattered with a puddle’s worth of muddy water).

Before the meal, Malleus is eager to show Rollo the dormitory (“You enjoy history, Flamme. Diasomnia has plenty of it to offer. Allow me to show you—”). Rollo is sandwiched between Malleus (who leads the way) and Sebek, Silver, and Lilia in the back and at his sides. (He glares at the back of Malleus’s head and quietly wills for him to meet a fiery and painful end.)

... Likewise, Sebek is glaring and thinking the same of Rollo. He's only keeping his trap shut in the presence of Lilia-sama and Malleus-sama!! (Silver sighs to himself, wondering if this evening will really play out alright.)

Malleus rattles off details the past and the antiques which decorate Diasomnia. (There is of course a segment about gargoyles too.) In any other scenario, Rollo would have found the information fascinating--but darn that Draconia for tainting this experience for him!! (With each fact Malleus provides, Rollo's face increasingly twisted with disgust.)

Every so often, Sebek interjects with loud praise for Malleus's wealth of knowledge. His fanboying is so incessant that it echoes in Rollo's head long after the compliments have already been uttered out loud. Where's the brain bleach when Rollo needs it the most?

He thinks he’s hallucinating things when he sees a stampede of animals heading for him from the other end of the hallway—but as they get bigger and louder, Rollo realizes that no, it’s very much real. The animals surround Silver, who greets them with a soft smile and introduced his friends to Rollo.

“Do you want to pet them, Rollo-senpai?” Silver offers. Rollo calmly replies, “No thank you. I do not make it a habit of handling animals outside of the occasional horse—” Too bad for him though, squirrels and birds are already nesting in his hat and a deer is chewing on the ends of his robes…! Rollo’s eyes twitch in annoyance as he goes about untangling himself from the deer and shooing away the birds and squirrels.

When they arrive at the dorm rooms, Lilia pipes up with an idea: "I know! I'd like to show our guest some things from my room. It'll be just like a sleepover." (Rollo frowns. "... In what way is this like a sleepover? If possible, I would like to avoid it." Sebek agrees, vehemently advising against showing "the enemy" their private quarters.)

Lilia shakes his head and wags at finger at him. "You should be more accepting, Sebek! Yesterday's foes can be today's friends." (Silver and Malleus agree with Lilia, so it's 3 votes to 2.)

"Welcome to Lilia-chan's ultra-cute heart-thumping bedroom <3" ... It's the most cluttered place Rollo has ever laid his eyes on, even worse than Idia's. He strains to hide the disgust on his face. Lilia for his part, is ecstatic. He rushes about the room, collecting armfuls of trinkets and artifacts to show off. Each comes with its own story from a different part of Twisted Wonderland.

Lilia even shows off a massive cleaver he claims he used “back in the day to cut my enemies down~” It launches Sebek into another round of extolling his superior. Meanwhile, Rollo stares blankly at the weapon and wonders how much of what Lilia just said was fact and how much of it was fiction.

"You know, Rollo-kun, there's so much we can learn from other people and cultures," Lilia tells him, holding up a handkerchief of his own. Rollo recognizes it as one from the City of Flowers--the joke items children blow into to release smoke and confetti, startling others. (Hmm? Did Silver purchased an extra one for his vice dorm leader? Hadn’t he just gotten one for his father?) "I hope that you can keep an open mind tonight."

“… Yes, I will try.” (It’s a lie.)

Using his own handkerchief as a makeshift mask, Rollo does his best to not inhale too much of the air of this magic-infested place. Lilia asks him if he's feeling ill (Rollo is tempted to respond, "Yes, I am sick... sick of you lot of fools!"), to which Rollo replies that he's feeling peckish.

“Shall we head into the dining room?” Malelus suggests, but Lilia tells him, Sebek, and Silver to go ahead of him and Rollo. (“You boys run along and make the necessary preparations! We’ll catch up later.”)

When it’s just the two of them, Rollo finds Lilia staring wistfully into a tin. Some withered old acorn bracelet is inside. It’s nothing special, but Lilia looks at it as though it’s the greatest treasure in the entire world. He replaces the lid and regards Rollo and a serious expression.

“… I empathize with you, you know. Losing a loved one is never easy. I don’t wish for anyone—not even my worst enemy—to experience the pain that I did. It hurts, I know—but there is an opportunity to heal, to learn, to grow. That’s why I will do everything in my power to protect that dream, to bring about a world of peace and love, not war and hate. It is my hope that you, too, recognize this. The last thing I would want to do is to obliterate Malleus, Sebek, and Silver’s first friend from Noble Bell College.”

Rollo frowns, disconcerted by the promise of peace and love. No, it’s just not possible in a world where magic exists. “We will have to agree to disagree. I have my convictions as well. I do not intend to waver. And a correction: we are NOT friends.”

Lilia giggles. “What are friends, if not people who spend time together and get on each others’ nerves? You are plenty friends with them, if only you would allow yourself to be.” He prances over to Rollo and taps him in the heart. “Riiight here.“

“Wha…?! G-Get away from me!!” Rollo bats at the ancient fae, who only laughs and runs off with Rollo in hot pursuit. He chases Lilia all the way down the hall, where they’re both stopped by the sight of the dining room.

It’s lovely—an obsidian black tablecloth thrown on a long table, their best china and silverware out, crystal vases of fresh cut roses and candelabras alit with pulsating green flames welcoming them. Platters of succulent food and drink float in the air, suspended by magic.

“Dinner is served,” Malleus announces. With the way of his hand, the dishes slowly settle onto the table. The dorm leader beckons everyone to sit. Silver and Sebek nod and obey. Lilia claps his hands in delight. Rollo wants to vomit in his mouth.

The seating arrangement is deliberate. Malleus at the end of the table, Lilia on one side of him and Rollo on the other. Silver sits next to Lilia, and Sebek next to… Rollo… “Why does HE get the honor of the seat across from Lilia-sama and next to the young master?! THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!” Sebek thunders. (The entire meal, Rollo feels the first year angrily staring at him.)

Rollo forces himself to eat the food that has likely been prepared by magical means. He figures that if his mouth is preoccupied with eating, then he won’t have to engage in whatever stupid conversations Diasomnia brings up.

Sebek talks about a book he has been reading. He visibly puffs up as he recites the details of it, like he’s an eager puppy expecting praise for his memory. Silver mentions that some of his bird friends will migrate south soon, and that he will miss them until their inevitable return in the spring. Lilia tells a story about a raid he went on with his gaming buddy (Gloomy Samurai) and how he dove off the stage during one of his club meetings. (One of these things is not like the other, Rollo thinks.)

At one point in the meal, Silver almost falls asleep in his soup and a flock of birds have to work together to lift his head up and avoid disaster. Rollo cringes at the wild animals being so close to their food—who knows what manner of diseases they carry or where they’ve been?! Thankfully, he manages to keep his mouth shut, as he’s sitting far enough away for his own food to be safe.

Though Rollo keeps avoiding speaking to Malleus, Malleus certainly doesn’t do the same. In fact, he seems to delight in provoking Rollo. Malleus will talk excitedly about gargoyles and then make an aside to ask Rollo, “how do the gargoyles of Noble Bell College fare?” The same trend occurs for other topics as well. It makes Rollo nearly choke on his food or spit up a drink more than once.

He tries to keep his replies short and to the point, but Malleus often presses for elaboration or continues the conversation from Rollo’s response. (Sebek looks on enviously, chewing on his napkin to stave off the anger.)

Lilia declares that he has a surprise for everyone!! He runs off and returns with a dish covered by a silver dome. Silver pales, Malleus is taken aback, and Sebek is suddenly grinning deviously. “Ta-daaaah! I made dessert in advance!! I thought to myself, ‘I can’t let our dear guest walk out without trying some of my world-famous cooking!’”

Lilia whisks the lid off, revealing… a bubbling blob in shades of brown, violet, and murky green. Chicken bones, bits of chopped fruit, and shredded greens peek out from its mushy surface, which appears to have the consistency of a liquid and a solid at the same time. It smells like skunk juice and death. Rollo uses his handkerchief to hold his nose and to keep from being ill.

“Rollo-senpai, I don’t think you should…” (“Come now, human!” Sebek says smugly, interrupting his fellow knight. “Lilia-sama went to the trouble to prepare this treat for you! Do not waste his valiant efforts!!”)

“You think I would sample a dish so obviously dubious?!” Rollo cries, offended at the idea. “How foolish do you think I am?!” (“Oh my, no need to fight over my cooking, boys!” Lilia chirps. “There’s plenty to go around!” But no, Sebek loudly insists that their esteemed guest eat it all up—after all, when will Rollo have the chance to be graced with Lilia’s cooking again?)

As they’re arguing, no one noticed Malleus scooping a spoonful for himself until he has the bite hovering close to his lips. Sebek, horrified, begs his liege to think better of it. Silver, too, warns him. (Lilia cheers him on. “You have such a healthy appetite!”)

“Please, young master!! You know what the consequences are…!!” Sebek pleads with him. Malleus insists he must do this. “It is a show of good faith—and furthermore, a leader is expected to make sacrifices for the good of his people.” (Rollo feels like he’s watching a historical soap opera.)

Malleus brings the spoon to his mouth (Sebek leaps across the table, fully intent on eating that bite just to protect his prince from it) and… collapses onto the floor in a heap. His knights immediately rush over, calling out his name and trying to rouse him. Lilia claps both hands over his mouth.

Rollo rises from his seat too, but not for the reason anyone expects. His expression slowly shifts from neutral to a frenzied excitement. “Hm… hm hm hmm… ha ha hah… HAAAH HAH HAH HAH HAAAAAH!! At last… At long last, Malleus Draconia’s revolting presence has been wiped clean from this world! Slain by the hands of your own retainer…! Betrayed by your trusted ally, done in by your own hubris!! Oh, how ironically delicious!! There could be no better way to conclude what has been an otherwise odious evening!!”

Silver gaped at him in horror. Sebek is consumed by anger and upset. “WHY, YOU NO GOOD—!!” The first year charges, tackling Rollo to the ground. Silver follows, trying to pry the two apart. There’s shouting and laughing, fists flying and fumbling for a magical pen to exact righteous judgment—

Lilia calmly walks over to the body and crouches down. He pokes his fallen dorm leader’s cheek. “… Malleus, don’t you think you’ve scared them for long enough? I’m all for theatrics, but it’s a rather cruel prank to pull on our guest~” He pouts. “Besides, it’s not like my cooking is bad! You’re being overdramatic.”

“HUH?!” The three boy look on (Sebek and Silver in relief, Rollo in horror) as Malleus smoothly rises like a corpse from the grave. He chuckles darkly at their shocked expressions all the same, drinking in their surprise like a monster might relish in fear. Malleus dusts himself off and gives a luminous smile. “Forgive me, I could not help myself.”

A teary Sebek flings himself at Malleus to happily sob at his revival. Silver shakes his head, but he’s smiling too.

Rollo comes down from his high, and embarrassment sets in to replace it. He sits back in his seat to keep from collapsing himself, taking steady and deep breaths through his handkerchief.

They clear up Lilia’s dessert (no one’s in the mood to try any more of it since the prank) and move into the lounge to unwind after dinner. (Rollo tries to leave early, but Malleus isn’t having it.)

Sebek happily volunteers to prepare coffee for everyone! He parades in with a tray of it, passing them to Malleus, Lilia, and Silver—in that order. “… I’ll take mine with a little milk,” Rollo requests, as he’s usually used to a cafe au lait to go with his lunch every day.

Sebek needles him a bit for the request, going on and on about how he can’t believe an adult would still take their coffee with additives and how truly immature Rollo must be if he can’t stomach coffee black. He’s (unintentionally) undercut when Solver bluntly points out that Sebek usually takes his with tons of milk, creamer, and sugar to balance out the bitter edge. This causes Sebek to flush red and stammer out a weak defense, and Rollo smirks. It’s the little victories like this that curb his temper.

Malleus puts on a violin performance for them all. He plays a stringed rendition of the Kindly Bellringer’s song, a wish for a hope-filled future. (Rollo hates to admit it, but Malleus has impressive technical skill as a violinist.)

Sebek is nearly moved to tears just listening. Silver has to stop Lilia from rushing to join in with his electric guitar, offering to dance with his vice dorm leader instead. Their height difference makes for a silly sight as they swing together, but they have a lot of fun doing it.

… Rollo doesn’t understand it. How can this group of misfits be so happy like this? Looking at them, they almost come off like some happy-go-lucky family. Even though they don’t share blood. Even though they’re so different…

It is late. Again, Rollo tries to excuse himself. His mind is fried and worn out from all the excitement and the stress of forced friendship with Diasomnia. Unfortunately for him, Malleus has one more trick up his sleeve. The prince promises, however, that it is the last one. “… Why should I trust you?” Rollo asks, to which he gets no answer. Malleus and Lilia only exchange a knowing look.

The group is led out into the garden. Unlike that of Heartslabyul or even Pomefiore, Diasomnia’s is not lush. Thick plants grow over everything, bearing bramble sharp enough to draw blood and driving onlookers away.

One powerful wave of ice magic is all it takes to convert it into a winter wonderland. Light snowfall drifts down upon an icy road, the thorns turned into abstract works of art encased in glass. Rollo begins to berate Malleus for his lax use of magic for his own pleasure, but Malleus just laughs and tugs Rollo along insisting that they build a snowman together.

Sebek calls after them, asking Malleus to please wait for him too! It’s Lilia who tells Sebek to stay behind and to give those two some space to settle their differences. “B-But Lilia-sama! What if that dastardly man attempts to take the young master’s life again?!” Sebek protests. (“I’m sure our Malleus can handle it!”)

Lilia whips out his cleaver (where was he hiding that on his body this entire time?!) and carves down blocks of ice into shaved ice for everyone! This, he claims, is his dessert redemption arc now that everyone is in good spirits once again.

Sebek helps with fetching bowls, spoons, and an array of flavored syrups for everyone to customize their shaved ice. Silver and his animal friends contribute toppings for them: fresh fruits and nuts!

… Rollo begrudgingly joins Malleus in the snow but males his own snowman instead of collaborating just to spite him. Malleus’s Olaf snowman comes out short and lumpy with a tall head and a carrot nose. Rollo’s is tall and thin, lying on the ground with Xs for eyes and two sticks shoved into its head. “It’s you,” he tells Malleus, pointing to the stick “horns”. (“Oh? I’m flattered.”) “You’ve perished,” Rollo clarifies. To his dismay, his rival barely bats an eye.

Malleus starts to blast alternating water and ice, creating dynamic sculptures—platforms to hop on, odd shapes to climb and to slide down. He easily navigates them (with an angry Rollo struggling to keep up, shouting at him about how he needs to keep “a leash” on his frivolous use of spells).

Malleus lands on the ground again, practically skating on just his feet alone. With a glance at the big moon above, he laughs. It reminds him of the night of the masquerade—and so he turns to Rollo, extending his hand a second time and asking to share a dance.

“Have you lost your MIND, Draconia?!” Rollo huffs. Malleus assures him that he hasn’t, then pulls him onto the ice anyway. They’re set effortlessly gliding, their robes swaying in the wintery wind. Rollo’s not even bothered by the cold now—he’s operating on the hot fury that’s burning within him.

“Are you happy with this evening of tormenting me and having me dance in the palm of your hand? Well? Are you?!” Rollo hisses. Malleus grins, and he looks particularly wicked under a veil of moonlight. “Very. It’s good to know that you are still as amusing as you ever were, Flamme. How goes your repentance, hmm?”

“I don’t have to answer to the likes of you. You and your minions have already out me through quite a bit of distress tonight.” (Malleus doesn’t seem to be bothered by the response. “Fufufu. Looking away so stubbornly has its own charm as well.”)

“I won’t press you further. There will be plenty of time in the future for us to catch up.” Rollo begins to object, but Malleus isn’t listening. He raises one hand to the sky, his volume booming. “Allow me to offer you a parting gift to end this evening… a token of our everlasting friendship between man and monster.”

Who is man and who was monster? a small, doubtful voice in the back of Rollo’s head wonders. He rushes to squash it before those embers turn into an all-consuming wildfire.

A brilliant aurora shoots out and overtakes the night. So many colors crackling and melding into one another, its ribbon-like motions seemingly never ending. From all around Diasomnia, mob students look out of their windows and stare at the sky in pure wonderment. It’s like a dream has come to life before their very eyes, and everyone is dancing under it. Even Rollo is stunned into silence by the beauty of the aurora.

No, he tells himself. This is wrong. It’s a product of magic. It’s not meant to be like this. Magic is ugly and harmful and selfish and…!!

A shooting star streaks the dark, diamond/studded sky. “Make a wish, Flamme,” Malleus encourages.

Rollo looks at him, then takes the deepest breath he possibly can. His shout resonates throughout Diasomnia, rattling antiques and rousing sleepy Silver awake.

“I SWEAR IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO, I WILL BE THE ONE TO TEAR YOU DOWN ONCE AND FOR ALL, MALLEUS DRACONIAAAAAAAA!!”

#twst #Malleus Draconia #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #Rollo Flamme #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #Lilia Vanrouge #Diasomnia #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk #spoilers

199 notes · View notes

lazyyogi · 6 months

Text

Spring Renewal: Healing from Time

Feeling lethargic, unfocused, or apathetic despite the onset of Spring? You may benefit from the practice of Renewal.

In this post:

What is the purpose of renewal and why do we need it? -> How burdens accumulate through the passage of time -> Timeless = freshness

Technical elements of renewal practices: -> Recapitulation -> Defragmentation -> Trauma shard release -> Reclamation of loaned energies

When we rinse away the dust of wear & tear and shed the accumulated burdens of time, we experience renewal. We regain a feeling of the timeless brightness that was once so natural to us.

Time exists for us as memory of past and imagination of the future, but also in the way we interpret the present according to those memories and imaginations.

Time exists in this moment as the imprints we have absorbed in the form of judgments and beliefs as well as the ways in which our repeated experiences have dulled our senses.

Think of an older adult. How they are as living beings is mainly shaped by the ways in which they have accumulated time: the weight of lifestyle choices on the physical body, the definitions and perceptions fixed into the mind, and the various forms of conditioning programmed by life experiences.

A common reason for low levels of energy and enthusiasm in adults is due to the accumulation of time, which leads to a state of staleness.

Now think of an infant, a creature who embodies the very essence of newness: unburdened by imprints or conditioning, undistracted by thoughts of past or future, undefended in their naked experience of consciousness in the moment.

An infant radiates freshness.

Habituation and conditioning are the marks left in the subtle (energy) body by the passage of time. Some of that is useful and part of what makes us more functional than an infant. But much if not most of this is accumulated garbage.

Just as a diamond coated in dust still possesses its inherent luster and clarity, so too do we still possess that freshness of infancy. Such is the esoteric meaning of "innocence." It can be obscured but it can never be lost.

When we engage in renewing practices, we first recognize and then rejoice in our fundamental essence. It has not gone anywhere, nor will it ever. It is us. Only, it can be forgotten and therefore go unknown and unseen. So, we dust off the diamond.

There are many ways to discuss the elements of self-renewal. In this post, I will address four of them.

The first is recapitulation.

"You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them." ~ Maya Angelou

"They believed that by means of the recapitulation, however, they could acquire a degree of control that could permit them to separate their life experiences from their life force." ~ Carlos Castaneda

The events of our lives, and the way we experience them, invariably impact us deeply. Sometimes it's a good thing, leading to self-discovery and inspiration. Yet at times it can be traumatic, confusing, and weakening. Especially when we unquestionably believe that we are those experiences.

When this happens, our enthusiasm and brightness (in other words our energy) becomes drained and muted. Through recapitulation, there is a therapeutic and cathartic disentanglement of our living reality from our past history. We can still reference our memory of the past for practical purposes but we are no longer reduced or limited by our past experiences.

The next two elements are defragmentation and trauma shard release.

Like a computer, we don't always develop in an orderly and optimized fashion. It's not surprising when you consider the disjointed and fast paced unfolding of experiences from the moment we wake up to when we go to sleep. Unfinished thoughts, half-baked daydreams, subconscious micro-emotions, and more all swirling just out of sight of our conscious attention. In a sense, we play host to fragments in many forms within us.

Related to this is the piercing placement of traumatic shards within our minds and bodies. A trauma is an experience that overwhelms and bypasses our capacity for healthy processing. In an acute form, when its fresh, it can cause us persistent distress in several ways and we will consciously suffer. In a chronic form, it can be more subtle in the form of triggers, crippling fears, avoidance and dependance behaviors, and more. These tend to be semi-conscious due to the way the trauma has integrated into your sense of self or identity. Any suggestion of being free from that trauma can feel like an affront on your identity, your self.

Instead of dealing with the discomfort of the healing process, many will instead resign themselves to coping mechanisms designed to prevent the re-activation of their traumatic wounds.

The burden of fragments and traumatic shards are just a few examples of how we carry time inside of us.

Lastly is the reclamation of loaned energies.

Through our prayers, intentions, and karmas, we have become involved with the paths and energies of other beings--be they people, animals, or other forms of sentience. This may be positive or negative, such as beings you have supported emotionally or beings with whom you have engaged previously in repeated conflicts. Those connections can persist on subconscious levels, influencing and siphoning our energies.

Through the practice of self-renewal, we can call all of those energies back to us and sever the obsolete connections that remain. This leaves us fresh and capable of forming new connections while moving forward from a place more whole and wise.

For a practice to reach down deep enough to be more than just a momentary relaxation or distraction, it must touch our fundamental nature: primordial awareness. This is the stainless diamond beneath the dust of time.

It is from that stainless place of beingness within us all that we can find both the perspective and the power necessary to free ourselves from the accumulated burdens of time.

Next up will be a sequel post about combining these elements to find a renewal practice that works for you.

#renewal #spirituality #yoga #buddhism #consciousness #awareness #philosophy #zen #mindfulness #meditation #inspiration

97 notes · View notes

nihilityuniverse · 1 month

Text

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost.

Story is also available on Wattpad.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕

𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐢𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹/𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 - 𝗕𝗗𝗦𝗠-𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞]

You slowly wake from a deep, dreamless sleep, your body heavy with the warmth of rest. As your eyes flutter open, you realize you're nestled securely in Zhongli's arms. His body radiates a comforting heat, making you feel drowsy all over again.

Everything around you feels so perfect, so serene, despite the lingering soreness in your legs. Instinctively, you shuffle closer to him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.

Zhongli stirs as you move, his hold on you tightening slightly before he gently presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Good morning, love," he whispers, his voice deep and soothing. "Did you sleep well?"

You nod sleepily, murmuring against his skin, "Yes, I did. How about you?"

His chest rumbles with a soft chuckle as he pulls you even closer, "I slept perfectly, with you in my arms."

A soft blush warms your cheeks as you whisper, "I love you."

Zhongli's smile deepens at your words. With gentle ease, he pulls you up, guiding you to sit on his lap. His amber eyes meet yours before he leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "I love you too," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a soft caress.

He pulls back slightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

"Let's get ready," he says, his tone warm yet practical. "Today is going to be a long day."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You find yourself back in the same luxurious dressing room as yesterday, the air thick with the scent of peach blossoms and the quiet rustle of silk.

The attendants work with careful precision, draping you in a revealing, shimmering white dress that clings to your every curve. The fabric is encrusted with crystals and diamonds that catch the light with every subtle movement, making you glimmer like a living constellation.

The dress stops daringly high at your thighs, each step dangerously close to revealing the curve of your ass.

The material hugs your body tightly, accentuating the seductive curve of your hips, the cinch of your waist, and the generous swell of your breasts. The neckline plunges low, leaving your décolletage exposed, with no straps or high collar to distract from the beauty of your bare skin.

Around your small waist, delicate chains of sparkling crystals are loosely draped, the ends adorned with larger gemstones that sway with your every movement, drawing attention to the seductive shape of your body. Your feet are encased in crystal-like high heels, adding height and elegance to your already alluring form.

To complete the look, a luxurious, fluffy fur scarf is draped over your arm, hanging loosely and brushing against your bare skin. The softness of the fur contrasts with the hard, glittering crystals, adding a touch of sensuality to the ensemble.

As you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you can't help but admire the breathtaking effect of your ensemble — the dress, the shimmering jewels, and the luxurious fur all combine to make you look utterly irresistible.

Yet, as you take in your reflection, a sense of incompleteness nags at you. Something is missing.

Your hand instinctively brushes over your bare neck, and a longing stirs within you.

Your collar.

The absence of it feels almost wrong, like a piece of you is missing.

Your eyes drift back to the mirror, focusing on the delicate skin of your neck. There, lingering like a beautiful secret, are the remnants of last night's passion — faint kiss marks, bruised nibbles, and the deep, possessive bite where Zhongli marked you as his. The sight sends a shiver down your spine, reminding you of the intensity of his claim.

The marks are a stark contrast against your otherwise polished appearance, a hidden truth beneath the glamour. You can't help but trace your fingers over the sensitive skin, remembering the feel of his teeth sinking in, the way your body responded to his dominance.

The thought of it makes you yearn for the collar even more, the tangible symbol of his ownership that you crave to wear again.

Your legs began to tremble once more, the soreness from the previous night making it difficult to stand.

Sensing your discomfort, one of the attendants quickly guided you to a plush couch, where you could rest. With a gentle smile, they handed you a cup of peach tea. You accepted it gratefully, the warm, fragrant liquid soothing you as you sipped it, a contented smile playing on your lips.

The peachy sweetness of the tea faded faster than you expected, replaced by an odd ache in your right fingers.

For a moment, the thick, sweet scent in the room seemed to dissipate, and your senses sharpened. But as you took another sip, the familiar sweetness returned, filling your senses once again, yet the dull ache in your fingers lingered, a curious sensation you couldn't quite place. The thought of it drifted away as you finished your tea.

"Lady Y/N? It's time to meet Rex Lapis," one of the attendants softly announced.

A blush crept across your cheeks at the mention of Zhongli, your lover. It hadn't been long since you last saw him, but the craving to be near him again was overwhelming.

"Yes..." you murmured, anticipation tingling in your veins.

The attendants gently helped you to your feet, steadying your shaky legs as they guided you. Your excitement to be near Zhongli made you eager, and you tried to walk faster, though your legs trembled beneath you.

Each step you took sent the sound of your heels clicking sharply through the corridor, the delicate crystals on your dress rustling with each movement.

After what felt like an eternity, you reached the end of the long, opulent corridor, where massive golden doors loomed before you. The attendants pushed the heavy doors open, revealing the grandeur of the hall within.

The floor gleamed like a mirror, reflecting the golden light that seemed to emanate from everywhere. Dragons coiled around every surface, their intricate designs carved into the walls, pillars, and even the ceiling, where a stunning depiction of you and Zhongli embracing was etched into the golden surface.

Your gaze drifted forward, and there he was — Zhongli, seated on a grand golden throne, the very image of regality. The throne, like the rest of the room, was intricately decorated, seemingly crafted from Cor Lapis itself, radiating a rich, amber glow.

His presence dominated the space, and as your eyes met his, your heart pounded in your chest. The sheer power of his gaze, coupled with the memory of the previous night, made the air between you feel electric, charged with a tension that made your breath quicken.

Zhongli tapped his lap, and with trembling legs, you hurried over, brushing off the attendants who tried to steady you. You were too eager, too desperate to be near him again. You sank onto his lap, your body melting against his, and looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes, meeting his intense amber gaze that seemed to pierce through you.

His gloved hand reached up to grip your chin, tilting your face so he could examine you closely. His eyes bore into yours, scrutinizing your pupils, which were now fully dilated, a clear sign that the drug had taken complete control over you. His lips curled into a dark, satisfied smirk. The last remnants of restraint fell away; now he could fully indulge in you without hesitation.

"You've been such a good girl, haven't you?" he cooed, his thumb brushing softly over your lips. His eyes drifted down to your neck, where his earlier marks — his kisses and bites — stood out starkly against your skin. The large, prominent dragon-mark he had left on you the night before claimed you as his, and he reveled in the sight. He leaned in, his lips grazing over the sensitive mark, sending a shiver through your body, before placing a kiss on it.

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Something's missing, isn't it?"

"M-my... collar," you responded, your voice tinged with a soft sadness as you realized its absence. The collar was more than just an accessory; it was a symbol of your submission, your connection to him.

Zhongli chuckled, clearly pleased with your response. "Good girl," he murmured approvingly.

He reached down to retrieve a new collar — a striking piece made of white, shiny leather, embedded with glimmering diamonds. The luxury of it matched the importance it held for both of you.

He fastened the collar around your neck, tightening it more than before. The leather pressed snugly against your throat, making you gasp and moan in a mix of pleasure and desperation. The restriction on your breathing left you feeling lightheaded, a dizzying sensation that only heightened your arousal. You loved the way it choked you, how it made you feel so completely under his control.

With a click, he attached the leash to the collar and gave it a sharp tug, pulling you roughly closer to him. The force of it made your heart race, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you stared up at him with a look of pure need.

Zhongli's amber eyes captivated you completely, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. The longer you gazed into them, the more they seemed to expand, pulling you deeper into their hypnotic glow. It was as if those glowing amber orbs were your entire world, the only light in your existence.

The drug had taken full effect, warping your perception, amplifying every sensation until it was almost unbearable. Your thoughts swirled in a haze of desire and obsession, leaving no room for anything but him. The idea of anyone or anything else had completely evaporated.

Zhongli was everything. His handsome face, his powerful presence, the way his eyes held you captive — it was all-consuming. Your mind could only think of him, and your body responded in kind, trembling with need, aching to be touched by him. You existed solely for his pleasure, to fulfill his every desire. What were you doing before? It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was being by his side, being his.

You pressed your big tits against his broad chest, your gaze never wavering from his eyes, lost in the depths of his amber stare.

"I... ah, I am a good girl for you only..." you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation. Even forming words was a challenge; your thoughts were scattered, disjointed, as the drug clouded your mind. A trail of spit slipped from the corner of your beautiful lips, a testament to how far gone you were, how utterly under his control you had become.

Zhongli's eyes darkened with satisfaction, his gaze taking on a predatory glint as he leaned back into his throne, fully enjoying the sight of you unraveling before him.

"Aren't you such a mess for me, hm?" he purred, licking his lips in anticipation. He loved seeing the drug's effects, how it stripped away your inhibitions and left you so completely vulnerable to him.

His gloved hand moved to your lower back, sliding down to your big ass. He lifted your already short dress, revealing that you weren't wearing any underwear — your bare ass exposed and ready for him. You were always ready for him, always eager to satisfy his every hunger and lust.

With a sharp, deliberate motion, he slapped your ass hard with his leathered glove, making it bounce under the impact. The sting of the blow sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you moaned loudly, your body arching into his touch. The pain only heightened your desire, making you crave more. You were completely at his mercy, a willing toy in his hands, and nothing had ever felt so good.

The grand doors to the throne room creaked open, a subtle intrusion on your intimate moment with Zhongli. A soft knock followed, but before the person could speak, Zhongli's firm voice echoed through the chamber. "Come in."

As the doors parted, a young woman with cerulean blue hair and black-red horns stepped inside. She was Ganyu, one of the Adeptus. Her presence demanded respect, but her eyes flickered briefly to you before she knelt at the base of the throne, head bowed low to the ground.

Annoyed by the interruption, you pouted, nuzzling your face into the crook of Zhongli's neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent. The possessiveness you felt for him flared, and you clung to him tighter, unwilling to share his attention, even for a moment.

"What are you here for?" Zhongli's voice, though calm, carried an underlying authority that left no room for disobedience.

"Lord Rex Lapis, I came to report," Ganyu began, her voice echoing in the vast, opulent hall. "We have successfully persuaded the people of Liyue that the Geo Archon is not dead and fabricated a believable story with evidence to support it."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as she addressed your lover so formally. The way she spoke to him, the way she occupied even a fraction of his attention, made you cling to him even tighter. Sensing your unease, Zhongli's hand tightened on your ass, his grip firm and reassuring.

"Good work," he acknowledged her efforts before shifting his focus. "What about the preparations?"

"Everything is ready. The seal can be activated at any time," Ganyu reported, her head still bowed.

As she spoke, Zhongli's leather-gloved hand slid down between your ass cheeks, fingers teasingly brushing against your pussy. You shivered, trying to suppress the moan that threatened to escape as he began to play with you, pushing his fingers in and out with calculated precision. The sensation was overwhelming, your body responding instantly to his touch, but you buried your face deeper into his neck, trying to muffle the sounds of your pleasure.

"And the drug?" Zhongli's voice was steady, betraying none of the sinful actions happening beneath the throne. His fingers continued their relentless assault, making it increasingly difficult for you to stifle your moans.

"We have finally enhanced the effects of the Peach Drug," Ganyu continued, unaware of the intimate scene above her. "It now lasts over a year without the need for re-administration."

"Good," Zhongli responded, his tone satisfied. "You may leave."

Ganyu quickly rose, her ears tinged with red as she caught a glimpse of your writhing form, still seated on Zhongli's lap, your body surrendering to his expert touch. She left without another word, her eyes averted, as you moaned softly into his neck, the door closing behind her.

Zhongli withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips as he licked them clean, savoring your taste. "Now, where were we, my love?" he whispered, his amber eyes glowing with desire as he turned his full attention back to you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Zhongli carried you effortlessly in his arms, his strength unyielding even after the intense session that had left you utterly spent. Your cheeks flushed a deep red, and your body felt heavy, filled with the warmth of his seeds.

Exhaustion clung to you, but Zhongli remained as composed as ever, his steps steady as he walked through the long, opulent corridor. You nestled your head into the crook of his neck, comforted by his familiar scent, while your gaze drifted downward to the shiny marble floor, where your reflection wavered in the polished surface.

Then, a sharp ache radiated through your right hand, more intense than before. The sudden pain pierced through the lingering fog in your mind, momentarily clearing the haze that had clouded your thoughts.

A sense of disorientation washed over you, a nagging feeling that something was amiss. Something important. Something you had always kept with you, something you never parted with except in sleep. But what was it?

Your puzzled gaze fell to your right hand, the ache still pulsing beneath your skin. The fog in your mind made it hard to think clearly, but as you stared, you saw something strange — golden cracks forming along your skin, and from those cracks, delicate flowers bloomed, their petals shifting from gold to white. Your fingernails, long and sharp like golden claws, gleamed ominously.

A sudden, overwhelming craving surged through you, a dark desire for blood, for destruction. It consumed you, an intense bloodlust that made everything else feel insignificant, worthless. The urge to obliterate everything around you was almost unbearable.

But then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone. The flowers, the cracks, the claws — all vanished as if they had never been. You blinked, confusion swirling in your mind. An illusion? The sense of déjà vu lingered, as if you had experienced this strange vision before, but the clarity it brought was already fading, the fog threatening to return.

Why does everything feel so strange?

The fog in your mind, once so thick and all-encompassing, is starting to lift, but only just. It's as if you're standing on the edge of a dream, half-aware, but still lost in its clutches.

The words of that girl from before — what did she say? Something about a drug... Yes, a drug. The word echoes in your mind, and then, like a flash of lightning, realization strikes.

Your eyes widen, heart pounding in your chest as the truth seeps in.

Morax drugged you.

But how? And why? The answers are just out of reach, hidden in the mist that still clouds your thoughts. You try to piece it together, but your mind is like quicksand, pulling you back into confusion with every step you take toward clarity.

You need to calm down, but it's nearly impossible with the panic surging through you. Morax... Zhongli... He's plotting something, something terrible. But what? Is he going to seal you away? Force you into a contract? The fragments of their earlier conversation swirl around in your head, but they're so jumbled you can barely grasp them. Time is slipping through your fingers, and you know you need to act, but what can you do?

You're so weak, so defenseless in this state, and the drug is still in your system, pulling you back into the fog with every passing second. You try to think, to remember anything that could help you, but it's like trying to hold water in your hands — everything slips away before you can grasp it. Your thoughts grow more disjointed, more frantic, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of losing control.

But you can't give in. Not yet. You fight against the haze, struggling to keep your mind clear, to think of a way out. But it's so hard, and your strength is fading.

What can you do? What can you possibly do?

The more you try to think, the more elusive the answers become, and the more desperate you feel. The fog is thickening again, threatening to drag you back under, and you know you don't have much time left.

You glance down at your right hand, wondering if the strange illusion you saw earlier was a clue — a way to break free from the drug's grip on your mind. Desperation claws at you as you try to piece together what's real and what's not.

"L-love? Where are we going?" Your voice wavers, laced with uncertainty, but also a calculated attempt to buy some time. Zhongli, fortunately, doesn't seem to notice.

He smiles, planting a tender kiss on your head, a gesture that makes your heart flutter despite your growing fear.

"We're going to a very special room," he replies, his voice soothing, almost hypnotic.

Shit.

You cling to him tighter, trying to ground yourself, but that kiss... It feels so good.

You shouldn't like it, you remind yourself. It's the drug, twisting your thoughts, making you crave his touch, his affection. But then another part of you whispers, Why resist? Why not enjoy the pleasure, the comfort, the security of his love?

'No, it's the drug...' you mentally argue, trying to push away the warmth spreading through your body. But it's getting harder to distinguish what the drug is making you feel from what might actually be your true emotions. You're slipping, and you know it.

"Wha... wh-what special room, love?" you stammer, struggling to form coherent words as the fog in your mind thickens.

"A special room where you will forever become mine..." His voice drops to a low, predatory growl, sending shivers down your spine.

"...Ah... fo-forever?" The word catches in your throat, a mix of dread and something else—something that frightens you even more.

"Yes," he murmurs, his tone possessive. "You will become forever my good little girl."

Your heart races, but the confusion only deepens. A part of you thrills at his words, at the idea of being his, of being praised as his 'good girl.' It feels right, like it's exactly what you want. But another part of you screams that this isn't real, that you're being manipulated, drugged into submission.

"I... I am so happy," you say, but the words feel hollow, disconnected from your true feelings. Or maybe they are your true feelings? You don't know anymore. You can't tell where the drug's influence ends and your own desires begin. It's like you're trapped in a web, unable to distinguish between pleasure and fear, love and control.

You're losing yourself, and the worst part is you can't tell if you even want to fight it anymore.

"We're here, love," Zhongli murmurs, stopping before a colossal door that towers high above, stretching to meet the ceiling.

The door's surface shimmers in a pale peach hue, almost translucent, like a barrier between reality and a dream. Even in your drugged state, you can sense the immense power radiating from it — a barrier that keeps something in, or perhaps, something out.

Xiao, standing stoically as a sentinel beside the door, steps forward and opens it for Zhongli. The door swings open with a soft creak, and as soon as you both step inside, it closes behind you with a resounding bang.

Zhongli gently sets you down, and your feet touch the soft, cool ground. You blink, trying to take in the sight before you. It's... not just a room — it's something beyond your comprehension, something out of a fever-dream, or a paradise you might find in the most vivid of fantasies.

Your eyes widen in awe and confusion as you survey the vast expanse before you. The sky overhead is bathed in a pale pink light, almost as if dawn has just broken, yet it feels eternal, as if time doesn't exist here.

The grass beneath your feet is lush and green, dotted with peach-colored flowers in full bloom. Real peaches hang from the trees — trees that are ancient, majestic, with leaves that shimmer in hues of lavender and gold. The scent of fresh blossoms fills the air, sweet and intoxicating.

In the center of this strange paradise is a lake, its waters a mesmerizing shade of pink, surrounded by more of those ethereal peach flowers. The water glows faintly, as if lit from within by some unseen force. Far beyond the lake, a grand palace looms in the distance, its structure so intricate and beautiful that it seems to have been crafted by the gods themselves.

You feel like you've stepped into a world torn between a dream and a nightmare, a place that is both enchanting and terrifying. The beauty is undeniable, yet there's something unsettling about it all. The paradise stretches on infinitely, without borders, without end — just like the strange hold Zhongli has over you. You can't tell if you're in a perfect dream or trapped in a beguiling illusion.

You clutched the fluffy fur scarf draped loosely around your arms, pulling it tighter as a wave of uncertainty washed over you.

"Wh-what is this place?" you stammered, your gaze drifting upwards to the pink sky where fish swam lazily among the clouds, an impossible, surreal sight.

"Your new home," Zhongli replied, his voice calm yet carrying an ominous undertone.

Suddenly, he yanked sharply on the leash attached to your collar, pulling you forward with a jolt. You gasped, struggling to catch your breath as the collar tightened around your throat, nearly choking you... not that you hated it.

He continued walking, leading you down to the edge of the lake, the collar pressing against your neck with each tug. The flowers beneath your feet seemed untouched, resilient under your weight as if they weren't really there at all.

"Are you excited to become my wife?" he asked, his voice soft, almost tender. You nodded instinctively, your thoughts clouded, unsure whether to feel joy or dread.

"Y-yes..." you murmured, your voice trailing off, the word barely audible.

Without warning, he pulled on the leash again, guiding you into the lake. The water was cool against your skin, refreshing in a way that sent shivers down your spine. It lapped gently at your thighs as you followed him to the center of the lake, the surface of the water shimmering like liquid silk. You had no idea why you were there, what he intended to do with you, but the tension in the air was palpable.

A sudden flare of pain shot through your right hand, more intense than before. You glanced down, catching a fleeting glimpse of golden cracks and blooming flowers on your skin before they vanished as quickly as they appeared. The pain grounded you, cutting through the fog that threatened to overtake your mind.

Zhongli jerked the leash again, pulling you forcefully against his chest. The sudden movement made you choke, the collar biting into your throat as you collided with his body. His arm wrapped possessively around your waist, holding you close. "You look so beautiful..." he murmured, his voice smooth and hypnotic. "So perfect..." Slowly, he began lowering you into the pink water, the cool liquid rising up to envelop your body.

"Tonight, your body, your heart, and your soul will become mine and mine alone," he whispered, his words echoing ominously as he submerged you deeper into the water.

Strangely, you found that you could breathe, the water slipping into your mouth, making you dizzy, your thoughts swirling in a haze. Yet, the persistent pain in your right hand kept you tethered to reality, resisting the drug's full effect.

"And you will become my dearest wife..." His voice echoed eerily through the water as he pressed you down to the lake's bottom, the pressure increasing, the pink water around you shimmering like a twisted dream.

The bottom of the lake seemed to melt away beneath you, the ground slipping from your grasp as you began to sink deeper into the depths.

The pink water, once bright and vibrant, grew darker with each passing moment, enveloping you in a swirling haze of color. You felt Zhongli's arms around you, holding you close as you descended, his amber eyes glowing with an ethereal light that pierced through the murky water.

As you drifted further into the lake's endless abyss, the water grew thicker, heavier, pressing against your body from all sides. It wasn't just water — it was the enhanced Peach drug, saturating every inch of your being, seeping into your skin, your mouth, and your mind. The drug wrapped around you like a velvet shroud, pulling you deeper into its grasp.

The haze in your mind thickened, your thoughts becoming sluggish, like you were trying to swim through honey. You felt your consciousness teetering on the edge, slipping in and out of focus.

Yet, amid the overwhelming fog, a sharp pain flared in your right hand. It was the only thing that kept you anchored to reality, a burning sensation that cut through the drug's effects like a hot knife.

The pain intensified, pulsing with a strange energy that made you crave something — something just out of reach. You couldn't tell what it was, but the need was powerful, a desperate, primal urge that gnawed at your insides.

You sank further and further down, the pink water darkening to a deep, almost blood-red hue as you descended into the lake's unknown depths.

Your vision blurred, Zhongli's glowing eyes the only constant in the swirling chaos around you. The drug's influence grew stronger, pulling you toward unconsciousness, yet the pain in your hand kept dragging you back, tethering you to a thin thread of awareness.

The world around you began to fade, the edges of your vision darkening as you drifted between consciousness and the drug-induced dream state. You weren't sure if you were still sinking or if you had reached the lake's bottom, lost in an endless void.

Zhongli gazed down at you, his amber eyes filled with an obsessive adoration that bordered on madness. Your face, serene and vulnerable, lay half-hidden beneath the water's surface, your eyes fluttering open just enough for him to see the flicker of confusion still clinging to your drugged mind.

He knew you were hiding things — who you truly were, where you came from, the secrets of a world beyond his reach. But that didn't matter anymore. You couldn't escape him, not now. Not ever.

He had gone to great lengths to create this world for you, a gilded paradise where time stretched infinitely, a place where he could keep you all to himself. No prying eyes, no interruptions, just you and him in this boundless, dreamlike realm. It was a golden cage, crafted with meticulous care, where he could savor every moment with you, unravel every mystery you held, until there was nothing left but your raw, unfiltered devotion.

His fingers traced the delicate curve of your throat, gliding down to your chest, where they rested between the soft swell of your breasts. His touch was possessive, claiming you inch by inch as if he were engraving his very essence into your skin. A golden light began to glow beneath his fingertips, and slowly, a Geo symbol took form between your breasts, pulsating with an otherworldly energy.

You arched your back, a moan slipping from your lips as the symbol burned into your flesh, binding you to him in a way that was beyond mere physicality. Zhongli's breath hitched at the sound, his obsession deepening as he watched you succumb to the sensations he orchestrated. This was what he had been waiting for, what he had been planning for so long — your complete and utter submission.

"This is your destiny," he murmured, his voice a soft, dangerous whisper. "You were meant to be mine, to surrender every part of yourself to me. Your body, your mind, your soul... all belong to me now."

The Geo symbol pulsed brighter, a tether binding your soul to his will, inescapable and eternal. His fingers pressed deeper, drawing out another moan, and he couldn't help but smile — a dark, satisfied smile that spoke of his possessive nature. He had been patient, so painfully patient, waiting for this moment where he could finally seal the bond that would make you his forever.

"Your soul will tell me everything," he continued, his voice laced with a mixture of tenderness and cruelty. "Every secret, every desire, every fear. You won't be able to hide from me anymore. You will be mine, forever."

Zhongli leaned down, his lips brushing against the symbol glowing on your skin, and you felt a surge of heat that made you tremble. This was no ordinary contract — this was a bond that would tie your very essence to his, ensuring that you could never leave, never break free. You were his, and he would never let you go.

"Now," he whispered, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction, "you will be my beautiful wife, bound to me in every way that matters. No one will ever take you from me. You are mine, and mine alone."

The finality in his words echoed in the depths of your mind, and as the last remnants of resistance faded away, you knew there was no escape. Zhongli had claimed you, body and soul, and in this endless, golden world he had created, you would remain by his side for all eternity.

As Zhongli pressed harder against your chest, his power surged through you, a searing force that threatened to tear your very soul from its vessel. The sensation was agonizing, like your essence was being wrenched from your body, dragged against its will into the cold, unforgiving abyss. The world around you blurred as consciousness slipped away, but in the darkness, something ancient and malevolent stirred.

'Did you know?'

Zhongli's focus sharpened, channeling his elemental energy to breach the barrier between your soul and his will. He sought to uncover your deepest secrets, to see the desires and fears that lay hidden within the recesses of your mind.

But in his arrogance, he failed to notice the transformation taking place on your right hand. The skin cracked, golden lines spreading like fissures, from which bloomed ethereal gold-to-white flowers, pulsating with a dreadful energy.

'If you gaze long enough into the Abyss...'

His voice rang out, commanding, "Show me everything. Every desire you hold, every fear, and... your entirety."

'The Abyss will gaze back into you...'

Zhongli's gaze met yours, your half-closed eyes barely responsive. Then, the vision struck him with the force of a tempest.

He saw a world devoid of color, everything cast in shades of gray. The air was thick with despair, the ground littered with the bodies of the fallen, severed in grotesque and unnatural ways. And there you stood, a spectral figure among the carnage, holding a long sword that gleamed with an otherworldly light. Your form, too, was gray and lifeless, save for your eyes — those striking, golden eyes that bore into his very soul.

"Excuse me, did you ask?"

Your voice was a cold, raw whisper, devoid of emotion, yet it cut through the air like a blade. It was terrifying, inhuman, a sound that carried the weight of countless atrocities.

Zhongli's eyes widened in shock, but before he could react, a torrent of raw, unfiltered bloodlust surged from you, a tidal wave of hatred and fury that consumed him utterly. The serene pink waters around you turned crimson, as if soaked in the blood of the countless lives you had claimed. The colorless world erupted into a vivid, violent red, the hue of slaughter and madness.

Your appearance shifted, becoming something out of a nightmare. Your hair turned stark white, your golden eyes glowing with a hellish intensity. From your head sprouted twisted, golden horns — one torn as if in battle. The bloodlust radiating from you was suffocating, a force so overwhelming that Zhongli felt it crushing his spirit. He tried to pull away, but your power held him fast, dragging him back into the nightmare that was your true self.

He struggled, but it was like being caught in the coils of a monstrous serpent, a predator that had no intention of releasing its prey. Images flashed before his eyes — a snake coiled around its victim, tightening its grip until the life was squeezed out; a cheetah pouncing on a gazelle, the sharp claws ripping into flesh; a bear tearing into a rabbit with merciless force; a shark circling, then striking with lethal precision. Each vision was a reflection of your nature, a being of relentless, primal violence.

And then, as if the universe itself recoiled, a black hole appeared — a flickering image of IX, an abyss of unfathomable darkness. Zhongli felt an overwhelming fear, a terror that clawed at his mind as he was pulled inexorably toward it. The bloodlust was no longer just around him; it was inside him, devouring him from within, a dark, voracious force that threatened to obliterate everything he was.

He tried to escape, but there was no escape. The bloodlust gripped him like a vice, pulling him deeper into the abyss where only you existed — an entity of pure, unrelenting destruction. And as the darkness closed in, he knew, with a cold, sinking certainty, that he had made a grave mistake in underestimating the true nature of the one he sought to claim.

Suddenly, the bloodlust dissipated, and the world snapped back into its eerie normalcy. The water reverted to its soft pink hue, and your appearance settled back into its familiar form. But your eyes remained different — cold, intimidating, and brimming with a chilling clarity.

"What do you think you're doing?" Your voice cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and merciless. Zhongli's eyes widened in shock, but before he could respond, your fist connected with his abdomen with brutal force. The impact sent him hurtling through the air, tearing him from the seemingly endless stretch of water.

You glanced down at your right hand, noting the golden cracks and blooming flowers that adorned your skin. "This explains a lot..." you muttered, piecing together the fragments of your fragmented memories.

Where were your finger guards? They were vital — they served as an extra seal, a binding force to keep your MANTIS form in check. Without them, the risk of losing control loomed dangerously close, and you knew all too well that out of the Fourteen, your mastery over your MANTIS form was the weakest. The drug's hold on you had vanished, its effects reduced to nothing more than a fleeting memory.

In an instant, you moved with a speed that defied reason, slipping out of the water with a grace that was almost unnatural.

Zhongli was still airborne, caught in the aftermath of your punch, when you appeared above him. With a swift, decisive kick, you sent him crashing into the ground with such force that the earth trembled beneath him, a cloud of dust rising from the impact.

Zhongli groaned in pain, clutching his abdomen, his eyes narrowing in realization. He had made a grave error in underestimating you, in attempting to peer into the depths of your soul. What he had found was not a well of secrets to exploit, but an abyss — one that should never have been disturbed.

You stepped through the dust cloud, your form emerging like a specter of death. Your gaze bore down on him with disdain, as though he were nothing more than a worthless insect beneath your heel.

"Divine Key, Nihility, come forth," you commanded, your voice devoid of emotion. You extended your right arm, and in a flash of light, the Divine Key materialized in your hand, a weapon of immense power that seemed to warp the very air around it.

It was only then that Zhongli noticed the golden cracks and the blooming flowers on your hand, and a terrifying realization dawned on him. Could it be that you were...?

The thought trailed off as he stared up at you, the weight of his mistake settling heavily on his shoulders. He had unleashed something far more dangerous than he had ever anticipated, and now, he was at the mercy of a power he could not hope to control.

"I don't know what you want from me, what you hoped to gain..." Your voice was a low, dangerous whisper as your crystalline heels crushed the delicate flowers beneath your steps, each one wilting into nothingness.

"But what you did to me, Morax..." With a swift, decisive motion, you tore the tight collar from your throat, casting it to the ground where it shattered into fragments, the embedded diamonds and crystals scattering like worthless debris.

"I will never forgive you," you continued, your voice icy with the weight of your fury.

The memories of his violations, the sinful acts he had forced upon your body, surged to the forefront of your mind. But more than that, the binding contract he had dared to place on the entirety of your soul burned in your thoughts. A contract that, thanks to the other half of your soul — IX, the Aeon of Nihility — had been reduced to nothingness. The mere thought of it stoked the fires of your wrath. You grasped the handle of your Divine Key with a grip that promised bloodshed, your intentions clear.

Across from you, Zhongli slowly rose to his feet, his expression hardening as his spear materialized in his hand. He could feel the shift in your aura, the lethal edge of your resolve. But he was the Geo Archon, the strongest god and Archon in all of Teyvat, and he would not go down without a fight.

The battlefield was set, and the tension between you was palpable, a charged silence that promised nothing short of a cataclysmic clash.

The serene paradise he had crafted was now a battleground, the tranquil beauty of the endless lake and pink-hued sky a stark contrast to the violence about to unfold.

Morax, the Geo Archon, was a god of stone and earth, a being of immense power whose strength was drawn from the very bones of the world. His spear, a weapon forged in the crucible of countless wars, gleamed with a menacing light as he readied himself for the coming fight. The earth beneath his feet trembled slightly as his elemental energy surged, responding to his unspoken command. He was prepared to unleash the full might of his geo power — shaping the land, summoning stone walls, and hurling massive boulders with but a thought.

You, however, were not of this world. Your origins were far more ancient, far more terrifying than the people of Teyvat could ever comprehend. The power of Nihility coursed through your veins, a destructive force that could reduce all matter to nothingness. The golden cracks on your right hand, still glowing from your earlier confrontation, were a reminder of the terrible power that lay dormant within you — a power you struggled to control. But you had no intention of using your Divine Key, not yet. This fight would be won with skill, not sheer force.

The moment hung in the air, taut as a bowstring, before snapping as Morax launched the first attack. He thrust his spear forward, and the ground beneath you exploded upwards, a jagged pillar of stone shooting towards your chest. You reacted instantly, sidestepping with lightning speed, your heel barely brushing the ground as you avoided the lethal strike. The pillar crumbled into dust as it missed its mark, but Morax was already on the move, his spear spinning in a deadly arc toward your head.

You ducked under the blow, your body moving with a fluid grace that belied the fury simmering beneath the surface. As his spear passed over you, you twisted your body and delivered a swift kick to his side. The force of the blow sent Morax skidding backward, but his expression remained calm, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted his stance.

In response, the earth trembled once more as Morax summoned a wave of geo energy, the ground around you erupting in a series of stone spikes that sought to impale you. But you were faster, your form flickering like a phantom as you danced between the deadly spikes, each movement precise and controlled. As the last spike shot up, you flipped backward, landing lightly on your feet.

"Do your worst," you said, your tone aloof, almost bored, but the sharpness in your eyes betrayed the readiness of a predator about to strike.

His only response was a low growl as he lunged at you, the air crackling with power. This time, his spear was a blur of motion, striking at you from every angle. You met his attack with equal ferocity, your movements a seamless blend of offense and defense. Each time his spear came close, you deflected it with a precise strike of your hand or foot, using his own momentum against him. It was a dance of death, and you were both equally matched.

But as the battle raged on, you began to notice something. Morax's attacks were becoming more relentless, more aggressive. His calm, calculated demeanor was slipping, replaced by something darker — something more desperate. It was as if he knew that despite his immense power, he could not afford to let this fight drag on.

And then, with a roar that shook the very air, Morax slammed his spear into the ground. The earth beneath your feet shattered, and a massive chasm opened up, threatening to swallow you whole. But you didn't falter. Instead, you leaped into the air, using the force of the explosion to propel yourself higher, out of the reach of the gaping abyss below.

As you soared above the battlefield, you could see Morax below, his amber eyes glowing with a fierce light as he prepared for his next move. But you could also see something else — something he had failed to notice. The cracks on your right hand were spreading, the golden light growing brighter with each passing second. And with it, your control over your MANTIS-form was slipping.

But that was exactly what you needed.

As you descended back toward the ground, you let the power of Nihility surge through you, allowing it to flow into your limbs, strengthening your attacks. The moment your feet touched the ground, you shot toward Morax, your speed and strength amplified tenfold. He barely had time to react as you closed the distance between you, your fist slamming into his chest with enough force to send him flying backward.

Morax hit the ground hard, his body skidding across the dirt before slamming into a wall of stone. He grunted in pain, his hand clutching his chest where you had struck him. But you didn't give him time to recover. In the blink of an eye, you were upon him again, your attacks relentless and precise.

"Is this what you wanted, Morax?" you hissed, your voice dripping with venom as you struck him again and again. "To see the true extent of my power? To gaze into the abyss and hope to come out unscathed?"

With each word, your blows grew stronger, faster. Morax could barely keep up, his defenses crumbling under the sheer force of your assault. But even as you pushed him to his limits, you could feel the strain on your own body. The power of Nihility was a double-edged sword, and you were walking a fine line between control and chaos.

But then, as you prepared to deliver the final blow, Morax did something unexpected. With a surge of geo energy, he slammed his fist into the ground, creating a shockwave that knocked you off balance. Before you could recover, he was on you, his spear aimed directly at your heart.

Time seemed to slow as you watched the spear tip inch closer and closer to your chest. But even as it did, you felt a strange sense of calm wash over you. This was it. The moment of truth. Would you let him win, or would you unleash the full extent of your power and risk losing yourself in the process?

But then, just as the spear was about to pierce your skin, you moved. In one fluid motion, you caught the spear with your right hand, the golden cracks flaring with a blinding light. For a moment, Morax looked stunned, his eyes widening in shock as he realized what was happening. But it was too late.

With a final, desperate burst of energy, you wrenched the spear from his grasp and snapped it in two. The force of the action sent a shockwave through the ground, and Morax staggered back, his eyes wide with disbelief. But you didn't stop there. With a swift, almost casual motion, you slammed your fist into his chest, sending him crashing to the ground once more.

As he lay there, gasping for breath, you stood over him. The golden cracks on your hand were slowly fading, but the power of Nihility still hummed beneath your skin, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.

"You should have known better, Morax," you said, your voice low and dangerous. "You cannot control what you do not understand. And you will never control me."

Your fury was palpable, a dark and terrifying force that seemed to pulse through the very air around you. Every step you took toward Zhongli was deliberate, each heel strike against the ground echoing with the promise of retribution.

When you reached him, you didn't hesitate — you stomped harshly onto his crotch, your heel digging into his flesh with merciless precision. A pained groan escaped his lips, but you weren't here for mercy.

"Firstly," you began, your voice cold, yet tinged with an icy aloofness that sent shivers down his spine, "where are my finger guards?"

His breath hitched as he struggled to speak, the pain nearly overwhelming. "Ah—... they are stored in the sealed store-room," he stammered.

Your gaze didn't waver. "Secondly, where are my necklace and earrings?"

"They're... also stored in the same room," he answered, his voice strained, the agony of your assault evident in his every word.

"Lastly..." Your voice dropped to a dangerously low tone as you looked down at him, your eyes narrowing with a lethal focus. "Where is Osial?"

Zhongli's silence was a mistake — a grave one. You murmured a cold, "Huh...," before pressing your weight harder onto his crotch. He yelped in pain, a sound that was music to your ears. His dragon eyes glowed, but even his inherent power couldn't shield him from the sheer force of your anger.

As he remained silent, you kneaded his crotch harder, twisting your heel as if you were grinding out a cigarette. "You will guide me to Osial," you demanded, your tone leaving no room for argument. It wasn't a request; it was an order, an ultimatum.

Finally, he nodded, the submission in his gesture feeding the dark satisfaction that churned within you. But that wasn't enough. You leaned in, your voice dripping with cold, cruel sarcasm. "Ha? I didn't hear it. What did you say?"

"Yes..." Zhongli finally gasped, the pain twisting his words. "I will guide you to Osial."

You weren't finished. Not by a long shot.

"But—"

"There are no buts." Your tone sliced through his words like a blade, sharp and unyielding.

"You've had enough of me. Enough of my body."

Your fingers trailed up to the large, dragon-shaped mark he had left on your throat, a symbol of his twisted possession.

Without hesitation, your sharp nails dug deep into your flesh. The sound of your skin tearing was a grotesque symphony that echoed through the air as you tore the mark from your body, ripping away the symbol of his dominance. Golden blood — sparkling and radiant — poured from the wound, a stark contrast to the violence of your actions. You pressed your fingers against the bleeding flesh, showing no reaction to the pain.

Zhongli's eyes widened in shock, the sight of your golden blood confirming his deepest suspicions. You were no ordinary being — his worst fears were realized.

"I remember what really happened here in Liyue millennia ago," you continued, your voice a chilling whisper. "And your little fabricated story... ha... what an utter lie."

You leaned closer, your lips curling into a cold, emotionless smile as you delivered your final, terrifying words. "But let me tell you something... The past is meaningless. All that is past... has returned to Nihility."

A single golden tear slipped from the corner of your eye, falling onto Zhongli's face. "Just like tears... eventually disappear in the rain."

Your words hung in the air, heavy with the promise of vengeance. Zhongli could do nothing but stare up at you, the true weight of his actions crashing down on him. You were no longer the person he had tried to control, to possess. You were a force of nature, a being of terrifying power and unrelenting fury, and you would not rest until he paid for every sin he had committed against you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Everyone has a past. But for some, that past is a silent abyss, an endless void where the echoes of those who drowned in it are forever lost.

It is a dark chasm, filled with the memories of shattered lives and broken souls, leaving behind a trail of blood and corpses, forgotten by all but the one who created them.

114 notes · View notes

marvelmusing · 1 year

Text

Toying with You

Part of the Glitter & Gold AU

Pairing: Modern!Darklina x Fem!Reader

Summary: After spending the night at Nikolai and Zoya’s house, you wake between Aleksander and Alina. It isn’t long before their hands begin to wander.

Warnings [18+]: smut, fingering, use of sex toys (vibrator), mentions of sexual activities (spanking, bondage, sex toys, overstimulation)

A/N: set immediately after Like A Diamond, not extensively proofread

My Masterlist

Even on your days off from work, you often wake up early. It used to frustrate you a little, being unable to enjoy a long sleep in, but this morning you find yourself glad you had woken up a couple of hours after sunrise.

After the events of last night, your body had been cosy and sated as you lay between Aleksander and Alina, though with the knowledge of their presence - and their bodies so close to yours - it hadn’t taken long for need to blossom in your core.

Luckily, the two of them had been in a similar mindset, taking turns to press soft kisses to your neck and along your shoulders as they talked quietly. Aleksander’s morning voice is low and husky, while Alina’s is soft and heavy. They both settle into your mind easily, filling your head with debauched thoughts and fantasies, especially when they begin to tell you about their personal preferences.

Neither of them like being spanked, though Aleksander admits that he enjoys giving someone a spanking - as long as his partner is enthusiastic about their enjoyment. With her delicate hands, Alina can’t muster the same level of force as her husband, so she prefers to use toys for impact play. There’s a dark mischief in her voice that makes anticipation thrum beneath your skin at the thought of being at their mercy.

They tell you that the punishment Aleksander likes to give Alina usually consists of bondage and overstimulation, the mention of which makes your thighs tremble. Imagining Alina, her hands bound to their headboard with silk ribbon, her legs spread as Aleksander makes her come undone innumerable times, has you grinding against the mattress.

Then Alina rolls over, reaching into the bedside cabinet drawer to retrieve something.

She pulls your panties aside, moaning lowly when she finds the fabric soaked with your arousal. A whimper escapes your lips as she parts your folds, an awestruck expression filling her eyes as she looks down at your squirming body.

“Can Sasha have a feel of you, baby?”

You give her a rather dumbfounded nod, turning to glance at Aleksander as he slips his hand into your panties. His fingertip circles your clit eagerly and you buck your hips forwards at the sensation which makes them both laugh quietly. The look they exchange between one another has desire thrumming through the flushed bud of your clit.

“Such a mess already, milaya,” Aleksander coos with an indulgent smile. “Would you like Alina to play with you a little?”

Breathless from their attention, you nod again.

There’s a low hum that buzzes to life and you realise what Alina had retrieved from the bedside drawer - a vibrator. She tilts her head aside, watching your expression turn expectant and she runs the toy down the length of your inner thigh. The vibrations have pleasure prickling over your skin and desperation pools in your stomach. An deep ache gathers in your core as the idea of her pushing the toy inside you consumes your thoughts.

She only indulges you once you begin to beg weakly, tugging on her wrist to place the toy where you need it most. The amount of arousal smeared over your thighs and mount has a soft flicker of embarrassment brushing over your cheeks, though they both seem pleased at the sight of you so wound up. Aleksander holds onto your hip, keeping you in place as she pushes the toy into your dripping cunt.

The vibrations have you whining loudly, the end of the toy nudging a hairsbreadth away from your most sensitive spot, making you grind your hips upwards in an attempt at pushing it deeper - much to their amusement.

Then, much to your confusion, Aleksander hands your phone over to you, turning it on for you and instructing you to google a particular brand. Heat burns down your body and your cunt clenches rapidly around the vibrator when you realise they want to shop for sex toys with you - right now.

It’s unbelievably hard to concentrate on anything, as they compare the merits of particular toys, considering what they could do to you - or each other - with the toys displayed on your screen.

Alina nestles her body closer to yours, slipping her hand between your thighs to push the vibrator deeper inside you. A low moan catches in your throat as the buzzing sensation thrums against your sensitive walls and your eyes flutter closed, your teeth gritted tightly.

“Do you not like that one?” she asks quietly, nodding towards your phone as her nose traces over the shell of your ear.

Lying on your side, facing away from Alina, with your phone in your hand, you struggle to focus on the image on your screen. At Alina’s question, Aleksander lifts his head up slightly from the pillow. From his place beside you, he can’t see the image though it seems to have roused his interest nonetheless.

“Let me see, milaya.”

Heat prickles over your cheeks as you tilt the device backwards for him to look at. His brows furrow lightly as he studies the image, though there’s a playful glimmer in his dark eyes when he says,

“Explain it to me.”

Subconsciously, your hips roll forwards, seeking some pressure against your dripping entrance. The vibrations of the toy inside you and the arousal smearing over your thighs has your body burning with heat as you stare at the silicone toy on the screen in front of you.

“Well…” Alina strokes her hand down your abdomen, fingers grazing over the soft hairs there and you struggle to gather together the words necessary for an explanation. “That end would go inside Alina, and it would vibrate, while the other end would go inside me.”

He hums quietly, a thoughtful expression on his face as he refuses to acknowledge the waver in your voice.

“Or,” he suggests. “We could slip the vibrating end into you, press that little nub in the centre against your pretty clit, and lie you down on your back so that Alina can fuck herself with the other end.”

The breath halts in your chest at the thoughts spilling into your mind, thoroughly inspired by Aleksander’s suggestion.

While Alina’s teeth drag over your earlobe, you imagine her straddling your lap, breasts bouncing as she moves up and down over the toy that would be inside both of you.

A shiver runs down the length of your spine at the sensation of her suckling the soft skin beneath your ear. Aleksander slides his thigh between yours, pressing the firm muscle against your cunt.

The world blurs momentarily and a desperate noise escapes your lips. He asks you several questions about the toy, his voice light and conversational as if your mind isn’t melting into a puddle. He asks you to explain how many speed settings there are and the dimensions of both ends of the toy.

Alina’s breathing is heavy against your shoulder as Aleksander muses quietly about whether she would prefer the thicker end for herself. She whimpers at the teasing lilt in his voice and you ache at how casually confident he seems. Alina buries herself into your back, her arms winding tightly around your waist so that she can rock her mound against the curve of your ass.

“Put it in the basket, baby,” Alina whispers against your neck, a desperate edge to her voice as she trails a slow path of kisses along your thundering pulse. Her teeth graze over your skin, a sign that she’s being drawn into your pleasure as she bucks her hips greedily over your curves.

Aleksander takes your chin between his fingers, guiding your eyes up to lock onto his as he scours your expression for any discomfort. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes and you squeeze them shut tightly. He appears to notice the slight softening of your brows as you blink rapidly, the edge of your orgasm spiralling in your stomach.

His hand settles on the soft plush of your thigh, occasionally gripping onto your hip, pinning your twitching cunt down against the flexing muscle of his thigh. Heart hammering in your chest, you grasp onto them both, gripping Alina’s arm and scrambling at Aleksander’s chest as your pleasure peaks. The back of your head knocks against Alina’s shoulder as you writhe between them both.

A gasp catches in your throat as you climax, a small moan breaking free from deep in your chest as you come undone over Aleksander’s thigh. The feeling of your cunt twitching, the fine hairs on his leg brushing against your skin, has you shivering as the waves of pleasure roll through your body.

Alina turns the vibrator off once your whimpers turn sharp, your body on the edge of overstimulation - which you aren’t particularly in the mood for this morning.

The two of them continue to layer soft kisses over your skin as you slowly come down from your high. A bead of sweat traces its way down the length of your calf and you can feel another on your hairline where you had pressed your face into the pillow. Heat flows beneath your skin as your heart pounds a steady rhythm, fuelled by the dizzying orgasm.

It takes quite some time for you to sit up with the intention of going to the bathroom. Alina offers to help you make the walk, which you decline with a shy smile.

For a long moment, you sit on the toilet seat, staring at the faint grooves in the wood of the closed door, painted a glossy white that shines in the low light. There isn’t a single part of your body that doesn’t feel warm and blissfully light.

They are both sitting up in bed when you return, Aleksander leaning against the headboard with an arm splayed behind his head, whilst Alina sits at his side, facing him, with her legs crossed and her brows furrowed as her thumbs fly over the screen of your phone.

The door shuts smoothly behind you and the two of them lift their heads to look at you, slowly walking over the plush carpet towards them.

“What are you doing?” you ask her.

“Adding Aleksander’s card to your phone’s wallet.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you insist quietly as you reach the edge of the bed. “I can pay for my own things.”

“We know.”

Aleksander takes hold of your chin, leaning forward to kiss you gently. After one brush of his lips against yours, he furthers the kiss, sinking his hand into your hair to pull you closer and you clamber over the sheets towards him.

“I want to spoil my girls,” he admits between kisses. “Let me spoil you.”

“And ruin you a little,” Alina adds with a small laugh. You grin at her, turning your body so that you’re lying between the two of them.

“Okay.”

She smiles widely, reaching to grasp the back of your head to kiss you, her tongue swiping over your lower lip.

After weeks of fantasising about the two of them, with teasing touches and conversations that have left your panties soaked, the fact that you can reach out and touch them - kiss them even - seems surreal.

Alina traces her fingers gently over your inner thigh and you hum quietly in pleasure as your eyes flutter closed and the side of your head sinks into the space between her neck and her shoulder. Aleksander presses a kiss to your temple, his hand smoothing down your side.

There’s the sound of movement downstairs in the kitchen, no doubt from Nikolai and Zoya as they begin to assemble breakfast for their guests, and hunger stirs in your stomach at the thought of the spread that will soon be awaiting you at the dining table.

Alina stands, shrugging on the silk bathrobe that has been hanging over the chair beside the vanity table. She smiles at you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead and you lean into her touch eagerly.

“Breakfast?” she asks.

You nod with a smile.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#glitter & gold au #darklina x reader #darklina x reader smut #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader #darklina au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

163 notes · View notes