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winxanity-ii · 3 months ago

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SINS OF DEVOTION [2/3]

ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v ; fem. receiving hand-job/fingering; overstimulation; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery) word count: 3.6k a/n: wasn't planning on expanding the one-shot, but here we are. i literally stayed up 7+ hours to write this just cuz i got a bunch of praise in the notes 😩 i'm weak... anywho this is a continuation of my previous one-shot, '𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.' If you haven't read that yet, I recommend starting there to understand the progression of their relationship….final part: 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Ever since that night, you couldn't look Father Charlie in the eyes. How could you, when the man—the symbol of the glory of the Father above—had been buried between your thighs like a man starved?

Just looking at him brought back all the feelings, the emotions that twisted and churned inside you, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed.

Every time you saw him in the chapel, his gaze lingering on you from across the room, your heart would race, your skin tingling with the memory of his touch.

You would try to focus on your duties, your prayers, but the image of him kneeling before you, his mouth claiming every part of you, would flash in your mind, making you falter. Your hands would tremble, your voice would break, and you would feel heat rising in your cheeks, knowing he was watching you.

And he was always watching you.

His eyes would find yours whenever you entered a room, his gaze dark and intent, filled with a hunger that hadn't diminished in the slightest since that stormy night.

You could feel it even from a distance—the way his eyes seemed to follow your every movement, as if he was marking you as his. It made your breath catch, your body reacting in ways you couldn't control, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through you.

It was a regular Sunday mass when he finally cornered you; a neighboring pastor was visiting, giving a sermon, while you were cleaning out one of the confessionals.

The faint sound of the sermon echoed in the background, the low, rhythmic cadence of the visiting pastor's voice carrying through the church. You were kneeling on the ground, scrubbing the tiles, your sleeves rolled up to keep them out of the soapy water.

The scent of cleaning solution hung in the air as you worked, your humming soft, almost absent-minded, a gentle hymn that you barely even noticed yourself singing.

You were so absorbed in your task that you didn't notice the shadow fall over you until it was too late. You looked up, startled, your eyes widening as you tried to regain your composure.

"I'm sorry, this confessional booth is out of commission at the moment, I'm cleaning—" Your words trailed off as your gaze traveled upward, and your breath caught in your throat when you realized who was standing there.

It was Father Charlie.

His presence filled the small space, and you could feel the air grow heavy around you, your pulse quickening as his eyes locked onto yours. There was something about the way he looked at you—something dark and knowing—that made your heart pound, your hands freezing where they rested on the damp cloth.

The brush slipped from your fingers, falling back into the soapy water with a splash that sprayed droplets onto the floor and your habit, snapping you out of your daze. You stuttered, "F-Father Charlie," quickly standing up, giving a short bow. "Blessed Sunday morning, Father."

Charlie's lips twitched up into a smile as he stepped further into the cramped confessional booth, the door closing with a soft click behind him. "Blessed Sunday to you as well, Sister ____."

Your eyes flickered to his lips, your breath catching as your mind flashed back to how he had used that very mouth to bring you to the brink of pleasure—his lips, his tongue, every sinful movement etched into your memory. You swallowed hard, your face warming at the thought, your hands fidgeting as you struggled to look anywhere but at him.

You cleared your throat, your voice coming out small. "Is there... is there anything I can do for you, Father?"

Charlie hummed thoughtfully, taking another step closer until he was right in front of you, the space between you almost nonexistent.

Your gaze dropped to his chest, the black fabric of his cassock filling your vision, the scent of him overwhelming—something warm and clean, with a hint of incense. You could feel your heart pounding, your breath hitching as he spoke, his voice low and deep.

"There are many things you could do for me, Sister," he murmured, his tone shifting, darkening, as his lips curled into a smirk. "We could pray... or perhaps," he paused, his eyes glinting as his voice dropped even lower, "you could help me find a different kind of release."

Your eyes widened at the crude implication, your gaze shooting up to meet his, only to find him already watching your face, his eyes hooded and dark, filled with a hunger that made your stomach twist.

You felt heat pooling low in your belly, the tension in the small space between you almost unbearable. You shook your head slightly, your voice coming out in a whisper, shaky and unsure. "Father Charlie, we shouldn't... we can't..."

Charlie didn't answer, not with words. Instead, he took another step forward, his body pressing against yours as he used his arms to cage you in, one hand bracing against the wall of the confessional beside your head. His other hand moved to cup your cheek, his fingers tilting your face upward, forcing you to meet his gaze.

You could feel his breath, warm against your skin, his face so close that your noses almost brushed. His eyes were dark, filled with something raw, something that made your knees feel weak.

He leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his voice a whisper, almost pleading. "Do you know what you do to me, Sister? How you push me to sin, how you make me want things I shouldn't?"

His hand left your cheek, moving down to grab your wrist, guiding your hand between your bodies, pressing it firmly against the hardness straining beneath his cassock. Your breath caught in your throat, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you felt him, your eyes widening, your entire body tensing at the sensation.

"Feel that?" he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "That's what you do to me. Every time I see you, every time you look at me with those innocent eyes... you make me lose control."

You felt your heart racing, your mind spinning, a mix of fear and something else—something dark and thrilling—coursing through you as Father Charlie's hand held yours in place, his gaze locked onto yours, unrelenting, his lips brushing against yours in the barest of touches, waiting, coaxing you to give in.

Your thoughts raced. So many times since that night, you had fantasized about him, dreamed about him fully taking you, about giving in to the desires that had been eating away at you. But now, with him right in front of you, so desperate, so wanting, it made you dizzy.

You were a nun, a devoted daughter, a wife to the Lord—yet here you were, on the verge of surrendering. Your lips parted as you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, trying to cling to the last shreds of your faith.

But then you licked your lips, and you saw how his eyes immediately zeroed in on the movement, darkening with something almost primal. His gaze was intense, unblinking, and you felt the pull, the weight of his need, and it made something inside you snap.

With all the bravery you could muster, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his.

It was soft, a gentle peck, barely more than a brush of your lips against his, but it was enough to make your heart race like you were running a marathon.

For a moment, you thought you could pull back, that this brief kiss could be enough to satisfy whatever it was burning between you.

But then Charlie groaned, the sound deep and raw, and before you could pull away, his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you back to him, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. His tongue slipped between your parted lips, invading your mouth, exploring, tasting.

The kiss was nothing like your timid attempt—it was fierce, overwhelming, consuming.

You felt his tongue caressing the inside of your mouth, tracing the shape of your teeth, stroking your own tongue, coaxing it to move with his. He moved slowly, deliberately, as if he had all the time in the world, as if he was savoring every second, every taste.

You felt your head grow light from the lack of air, your body trembling, but still, you were locked in the kiss, unable to pull away, unable to do anything but respond to him.

Your hands moved of their own accord, one of them gripping the front of his cassock, the other reaching up to tangle in his hair. The soft strands slipped through your fingers, and you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his body seemed to hum with tension, with need.

Charlie's other hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the hard lines of his body pressing into yours, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of your habit. It made you feel like you were drowning in him, in his touch, his taste.

You whimpered against his lips, the sound muffled by the kiss, and he responded with a low growl, his hand tightening on your waist, his lips moving more insistently against yours.

Charlie pulled back, his forehead resting against yours as he panted, his breath hot and heavy, mingling with your own. His eyes were dark, filled with something raw and unrestrained, and he let out a low groan, his voice rough with desire. "I wish so badly to mark you up, to strip you down right here and lose myself in you," he murmured, his words sending a shiver down your spine. The explicitness of his words made your cheeks burn, your face flushing as you pressed it into his neck, trying to hide your embarrassment.

But he wasn't done. He tilted your chin back up, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek, his eyes searching yours. "But it's too risky," he whispered, his voice filled with regret, and something almost feral. "So I'll settle for something much quicker."

As he spoke, his hands moved down, fingers traveling lower, bunching up the fabric of your tunic around your waist. His touch was frantic, almost desperate, his hands squeezing and kneading every inch of you he could reach, as if he couldn't get enough.

You could feel his fingers digging into your thighs, your hips, pulling you closer, pressing you against him, and it made your head spin, made your body ache with a need you didn't quite understand.

Your hands trembled as they found their place on his shoulders, your fingers hesitating, curling slightly in the fabric of his cassock. You wanted to touch him the way he was touching you, to let your hands explore, but you were too shy, too overwhelmed.

The intensity of his presence, the way his body felt against yours, it all left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

Charlie's gaze remained locked on yours, his eyes dark and filled with something raw, something that made your pulse quicken. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low murmur, almost a growl. "You don't have to be afraid... just let me take care of you."

Your breath hitched, your body tensing as you felt his hands venture lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. Your eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by Charlie as he covered your mouth with his own, his lips moving against yours, silencing your small cries and whimpers.

His fingers moved with purpose, finding your most sensitive spot, rubbing slow circles against your clit. The sensation made your knees go weak, your body trembling against him as he worked you with an expertise that left you breathless.

You tried to pull away from the kiss, to catch your breath, but he wouldn't let you, his mouth insistent, his tongue coaxing yours to move with his, swallowing every sound you made.

Your hands clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric as you felt his fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance before slowly pushing inside.

A muffled whimper escaped your throat, your body tensing at the intrusion, the sensation both strange and thrilling. He moved slowly, his fingers stretching you, coaxing your body to relax, to accept him. You could feel every movement, every inch as he filled you, his touch deliberate, patient.

His lips never left yours, his kiss growing deeper, more demanding, as if he could feel your hesitation and was trying to coax you further, to draw you into the darkness with him. He pulled back for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he spoke, his voice a low whisper, thick with desire. "You feel so good, Sister... so perfect. Just let go for me."

Before you could respond, before you could even catch your breath, his hand moved to your thigh, his fingers curling around your leg as he lifted it, wrapping it around his waist.

The new angle made everything more intense, his fingers sinking deeper, his thumb brushing against your clit, drawing a shuddering moan from your lips.

The warmth in your belly grew, turning into a small flame that licked at your insides, consuming every thought, every hesitation; your body responded to his touch, your hips moving against his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he was giving you.

Charlie's breathing grew shallow, his eyes darkening as he watched you, his gaze roaming over your flushed cheeks, the way your lips parted, the soft gasps escaping your throat.

Your thighs trembled, your body growing tense as you felt the pressure building, the sensation coiling tightly in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.

But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, just as the first waves of your orgasm began to crest, Charlie stopped. He pulled his fingers away, leaving you gasping, the sudden emptiness almost painful.

A soft, desperate whimper escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering open, wide and confused as you looked up at him.

He met your gaze, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he brought his fingers to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucked them clean, his tongue swirling around each digit, savoring the taste of you. "You taste so sweet, Sister," he murmured, his voice thick with lust, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I could spend all day between your thighs... but right now, I need something more."

He shifted, his hands moving to the waistband of his robe, shuffling the fabric around as he freed himself. You couldn't see anything, the fabric obscuring your view, but you felt it—the hard, heavy length of him brushing against your inner thigh, the sensation making your breath catch, your leg twitch involuntarily at the contact.

Charlie moved with a practiced ease, his hands gripping your hips as he shifted you, lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

Your back pressed against the wall of the confessional, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat of his body. He adjusted his hold on you, his arms wrapping around your thighs, lifting them until both of your legs were hooked around his waist.

You felt exposed, vulnerable, the position leaving you completely at his mercy, but there was something about the way he looked at you, something in his eyes that made your heart race, made your body ache for more.

His gaze locked onto yours, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and something deeper, something that made your breath hitch, your fingers clinging to his shoulders as he held you up, pressing you against the wall. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. "You drive me mad, Sister... Forgive me, I can't hold back any longer."

He adjusted his hold on you, one arm wrapping tightly around your waist, holding you up against the wall with ease while his other hand moved beneath the ruffled fabric of your habit.

Your legs hitched open wider, instinctively allowing him more access as you felt the warmth of his hand trailing up your inner thigh, his fingers brushing against your skin. The anticipation made your breath catch, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited, your body aching for his touch.

You gasped softly as you felt something blunt press against your clit, moving up and down your slit, the sensation different this time—firmer, hotter. You thought it was his fingers again, but then Charlie let out a soft sigh, a quiet, breathless "fuck" that made your eyes widen, the realization hitting you all at once.

He wasn't using his fingers. It was him, the hard length of him brushing against you, spreading your slickness as he moved, the pressure making your head spin, your body growing even wetter at the sinful, blasphemous intimacy of it.

His movements were slow, deliberate, his eyes locked on yours as if daring you to look away, to deny what was happening. But you couldn't—your gaze was trapped by his, your lips parted as soft whimpers escaped, the sound swallowed by the heavy air between you.

Charlie's breath grew more ragged, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Do you feel that, Sister? Do you see what you do to me?" His voice was thick with lust, his words a mixture of reverence and something far more depraved. He moved his hips, sliding himself against you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

His lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin as he began to push inside you, his voice low and shaky as he muttered a scripture, the holy words twisted by the desire lacing his tone. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." His voice trailed off into a deep, guttural groan as he sank deeper, the stretch almost too much, a sharp burn that made you gasp, your eyes squeezing shut as your body struggled to adjust to him.

Charlie paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours once again, his breathing heavy, his eyes searching your face as if looking for any sign of hesitation. But you were too lost in the sensation—the way he filled you, the way your body seemed to mold around him, the burn slowly giving way to something else, something that made your toes curl, your breath hitching as you nodded, a silent plea for him to keep going.

He smiled, a dark, almost tender smile, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, "Perfect." His hips moved again, slowly at first, his movements careful, deliberate, as he began to build a rhythm, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you, the feeling overwhelming, all-consuming.

And as you clung to him, your body trembling, you knew there was no turning back, no escaping the hold he had on you.

The two of you got lost in one another, the heat between you burning like a fire, desire crackling like embers, growing hotter with every movement. Charlie's pace quickened, his breaths coming out in harsh pants, his groans muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn't get close enough.

The rhythm of his thrusts grew more erratic, each one more desperate than the last, the intensity making your head spin, the pleasure building until it was almost too much.

You could hear him, his voice a mix of groans and soft, needy whines, his lips brushing against your neck, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. His hands gripped you tighter, holding you in place as he moved, the friction, the pressure, everything pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your body tensed, your muscles clenching around him as the band inside you finally snapped, the pleasure washing over you in a blinding wave. You gasped, your head falling back against the wall, your eyes squeezing shut as your entire body trembled, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, riding out the high.

Charlie shuddered in your arms, his own body tensing as he felt you tighten around him, his movements growing sloppy, desperate, until he finally stilled, his hips pressing against yours as he let out a low, guttural groan.

You felt the warmth of him spreading inside you, the sensation almost surreal, the realization that you had pushed him to this point, that you had made him lose control, making your heart pound even harder.

He stayed like that for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you, something almost soft in his gaze.

Slowly, he pulled away, his hands moving to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your flushed cheeks as he leaned in, his nose bumping gently against yours, a small, tender gesture that made your heart swell.

Charlie's eyes held yours, his gaze intense, filled with a mix of emotions that you couldn't quite decipher. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, his voice still thick with the remnants of his desire. "Pleasure is deceitful... as it was for the harlot, yet I cannot resist you."

A/N: alright guys, chill with the praise and notes or i won't be able to get rest 😔🫶🏾🫶🏾jkjkjk keep them coming i'm a whore for them 🥴

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robo-writing · 20 days ago

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Someone asked me to elaborate on this post, so I will :3 (18+)

Logan is a man who has always been a pack animal—a sheep in need of a flock, if you will. As much as he can deny it, he thrives off of a need to belong, a need to be needed. He’ll never admit it, but the signs are there.

Being fiercely loyal, his devotion, violent towards anyone or anything that threatens his peace. With the X-Men he’s protective, but with you? It’s something else entirely.

When Logan finds a partner actually willing to stay with him—broken, animalistic thing that he believes himself to be—he holds on tight to them and refuses to let go. It’s an odd mix between a child holding onto its favorite doll and a dog sinking its teeth into its favorite chew toy—but the intent is the same regardless.

You’re his, and he’s never gonna let you go.

To say he would kill for you is truly an understatement—he would wage war for you, would watch the viscera river down his arms in streams—a privilege he offers to you and you alone, the only woman in the world he’d ever trust with his leash. It scares him, how much control you have over him, but it excites him all the same.

The best part? You truly have no idea how much power over him you have.

Even the simplest things have him bending over backwards for you, calling for him from across the house in that melodic voice he loves so much just to ask him for help.

“Could you help me with dinner?”

“Mind grabbing this for me?”

“I’m too lazy, sorry to be a bother—“

And the answer is the same each time—“You’re no bother princess, just say the word.”

He wants to scold you sometimes at the mere suggestion that his answer would ever be no. When it comes to you, he doesn’t think the word is in his dictionary. You have him deeply, truly, well trained, so much so that he’d gladly kneel at your feet if it meant you’d look down at him, because at the end of the day you’d still be looking at him.

Embarrassing really, that the big bad wolverine is secretly a lovedrunk puppy, one that’d dig his thumbs into the arches of your feet, smiling to himself when you let out that deliciously drawn out moan when he hits the right spot, right there, thank you.

However, that same puppy turns into a feral hound whenever he perceives a threat. Whether it be friend or foe, he’s one step behind you the moment you show any kind of discomfort. Even the slightest hint of hostility and Logan’s right there, chest puffed and glaring daggers at whoever was stupid enough to try, and that’s on the best of days.

On the worst of days…it’s a different story entirely. You’ve become far too familiar with the dulled sound of skin meeting metal, that familiar snikt before you’re forced to stand between Logan and his next victim. The two of you have gotten kicked out of your fair share of establishments, but Logan apologizes in a way only he can—with his mouth against your cunt.

Every lick, every suck, every touch, an apology. Muttering into your pussy, worshipping it, his tongue against your clit his own personal prayer, the sound of your moans his reward for being so devout.

“Sorry for getting us in trouble doll—“

His palms smooth over your trembling flesh, rough and calloused, just the right amount of pressure to keep you grounded.

“Sorry for getting you banned from your favorite shop—“

His fingers leave divots in your thighs, pulling himself further against your mound. His nose bumps against your clit with each pass, and the feeling leaves you gasping for air.

“Sorry for being so protective—“

Again and again, his mouth brings you to heights you never thought possible.

“Sorry for being so rough, just can’t help myself.”

In more ways than one, he really can’t, can’t take the man out of the beast if he’s more beast than man. Can’t teach a feral dog to socialize, but you can teach it who his master is.

And boy, do you fucking teach him.

You give him the best lesson of your life whenever you praise him, spread your legs and pull his head deeper into your needy cunt, dig your nails into his scalp just the way he likes it and moan for him while your thighs shake and your pussy squirts against his taste buds.

“Good boy, Lo’—good fucking boy—“

If he had a tail, it’d be fucking wagging.

#robo writes #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #ahaha…I may have overdone this just a bit

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barbies1shots · 6 months ago

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☆-bondage, gags, featuring GYOMEI♡, overstim, size k!nk (i cant help myself), manhandling

seen the new episodes of demon slayer and seen Gyomei?

the way his ghostly eyes gaze at your sweat ridden back as he pistons his fat dick into your soft cunt. one thing led to another, a few sentences led to Gyomei tying your calves to your thighs and your arms behind your back with a tightness that is constant. his knots with the dark rope just dug into your skin deliciously. with the way he tied your legs, moving or even running from his dick just wasn't possible.

'face down, ass up' they say.

'face down, ass up' if you want your guts completely rearranged and fucked up and your ass tore up

'face down, ass up' but your legs are fucking tied together, your arms are stretched out behind you and are fucking tied together. and it turns out he doesn't want his prayers interrupted, so he stuck a ball-shaped gag between your delicate teeth. forcing your tongue back into your mouth, slightly choking on it as drool to escape.

you cried and moaned out incoherently as your back arched even deeper for more. more of his thick inches, more of his calloused hands to ghostly touch over your hot skin. just more of the big man in general.

he kneeled behind you, his hips taking root to your ass and straight into your cervix, bruising it, smashing it with every forceful thrusts. he fucked you like you were going to leave tomorrow. he fucked you like you need to be. like you wanted to be weak in the hips tomorrow, like you wanted not to be able to walk straight and upright tomorrow.

his large hands were stationed on your hips, pulling your complete body weight into himself while pushing you off him the next second, just to pull you back on his dick, bruising your cervix.

every thrust brung gurgled whimpers from your pretty throat. you moaned off his dick. the way your slick made a wet sound when his hips crashed into yours made your head dizzy with lust. drool dripped steadily from your plump lips, wetting the sheets. your whines and sobs are so so loud, you just couldnt take it:(

but, his chants and his prayers are louder, they drown out your pretty cries and your lustful sobs. he just continues to pray as he fucks you a new brain.

ty for reading!<3

@aizawasbarb

#gyomei himejima #gyomei x reader #gyomei x black reader #gyomei x reader smut #gyomei x black reader smut #gyomei himejima x reader #gyomei himejima x black reader #gyomei himejima smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader smut #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader smut #kny smut #kny x reader #kny #kny x black reader smut #kny x black reader

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acid-ixx · 4 months ago

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brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

#🌷... yael's works #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #concept: brutus #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere angst #platonic yandere #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n

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thetriumphantpanda · 5 months ago

Text

new religion | joel miller

Summary | Joel's never much been a religious man, but if he were, he'd ask the Lord what he'd ever done to deserve you.

Pairing | Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.5k

Warnings | Explicit. Religious imagery, basically porn without plot, oral (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, cumshot, dirty talk, Joel worshipping you like you deserve, nothing bad happens to him ever and he dies peacefully in his sleep at age 101, no use of y/n. Written and edited on phone so please excuse any mistakes.

Authors Note | God bless hbo for that teaser am I right? I just want Jackson Joel to always find peace. Also thanks to All Time Low and their song New Religion for the Inspo. I hope you enjoy!

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Divider by the ever wonderful @saradika

I found God and we found heaven, On the bedroom floor.

Joel Miller isn’t sure how he got here. Knees creaking and painful, a dull ache in his back that never goes away, and years behind him that have led him to right now.

Years of being closed off, scared to open up to anyone in case he failed them as well. Years of using his anger at himself to reign terror on others. Years with Tommy that were strained, years with Tess that were less so, even good sometimes, and now years with Ellie, good, bad and everything in between. The relative safety of Jackson was unsettling, after years of fighting to survive and barely making it, scars on his body testimony to that, the normality was unsettling.

He’s getting used to it though, slowly but surely, and he thinks that along with his brother and Ellie, it has something to do with you.

You, stood in front of him, backlit by the setting sun, nude and waiting, whilst he kneels in front of you. Pained be damned, he’s going to worship you like the goddess you are.

Tommy has spent the past year absolutely rinsing his older brother for this. When Joel and Ellie had arrived back, he’d made it his mission to set Joel up with one of the many fawning ladies available. There was Esther, who was nice enough, and Lindsey who had been far too forthcoming, and others that Joel would rather not remember, telling Tommy that he didn’t need anyone, didn’t want anyone, was more than happy on his own.

Then he’d met you, sunshine to his clouds, sharp, quick-witted and funny. A take-no-shit kind of gal that had gotten under his skin more than he cared to admit. The first few times it was quick, fumbles in the alley behind the tipsy bison, or hurried moments bent over the dusty couch at the lookout on patrol, convincing himself that once again this was nothing but stress relief.

Then things changed, you started making him laugh, started sitting on his porch with him, laying on his couch whilst he played his guitar, and then he started spreading you out on his bed, started taking his time, learning what made you respond best, how you liked it, how you clenched so tight around him when he clasped your fingers in his and pounded you into the mattress.

Joel has never been much of a religious man, not since the end of the world, but he thinks, right here on your bedroom floor, that he’s found God. When you walk towards him and run your hands through his greying hair, tilt his chin up so he’s looking at you, hands on your hips like you’re his altar.

He brings his face closer to you, tongue licking through your folds as you stand before him. Your fingers tighten in his hair when the tip of his tongue finds your clit, your own head tipping back, face to the real Lord if he exists, muttering his name over and over in your own twisted prayer.

His jeans are tightening as he licks at you, the sounds you make doing what they always do, shooting straight to his cock. It’s why he can’t quit this, even if in the back of his mind he knows he probably should. You’re younger than him, though not scandalously, and he can feel that the years of his prime are fading the more comfortable he gets here. He knows that wanting you as much as he does is a sin in itself, but walking away? That somehow seems worse to him. He finally wants to be selfish, to think of himself and his own happiness for once, and it’s the taste of you on his tongue when he drags it down to where you’re leaking for him that convinces him he has to stay.

“Oh, Joel,” You whimper, knees shaking, “Keep going.”

“Ain’t plannin’ on goin’ anywhere, pretty girl.” He groans into your pussy, his big hands holding your hips in place to keep you upright as his tongue drags back up from your fluttering hole to your clit.

You widen your stance a little, spreading the lips of your cunt for him so he can fuse his mouth over your clit, suckling at it whilst his tongue works against the swollen bud in the way that he knows will have you tipped over the edge in no time.

He loves when you come for him. A reminder that he’s still got it, that he can learn your ins and outs and keep you satisfied, even at his age. He has to press his fingers into your hips a little tighter when you do come for him, keeping you upright before you knees can buckle underneath you as you cry his name out into the darkening room. Pulling his mouth away from you before you start whimpering that it’s too much.

Normally he’d pull you over to the bed, but there’s something in him tonight that means he can’t wait the extra seconds, so he’s pulling you down onto the floor with him, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands so you don’t hit in on the wood as he crawls on top of you, legs spread wide for his thighs as he pops the buttons of his jeans and drags the zipper down.

He’s in too much of a rush to undress properly, pulling his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. You’re reaching down, taking his length in your hand, dragging it up and down as he pulls his shirt over his head.

There are tiny droplets of sweat across your forehead, the open window and the breeze no match for the heat in the room, and he doesn’t know why he does it, but as he leans down, your hand guiding his cock to your soaked cunt, he lets his lips kiss across your forehead, like it’s holy water and he’s being reborn as he slips into your tight heat.

He doesn’t think he’s heard a sweeter sound than the ones he hears from you as he drags his cock in and out of your pussy. Gasps and whines and whimpers, never too loud, like they’re just for him. No-one else needs to know how good he makes you feel, just him. He presses his mouth to yours as he grips your wrists, pinning them to floor, swallowing your sounds as he fucks you.

Joel knows that it takes him a little longer these days, knows from the way you’re squirming that the ache in your hips is setting in. He knows that your body aches the same as his does, that your back aches and your knees hurt after a long patrol, but you’re being so good for him.

“Such a good girl,” He coos into your ear, “Y’can take it, can’t you?”

You arch your body up into him at his praise, “It’s so good,” You moan, your hands reaching behind him to sink your nails into the meat of his ass, “Harder, please.”

He can never deny you, so he pushes himself up, takes your knees in his hands and presses them down towards your chest, hooking his arms there to keep you spread open as he guides his cock back into you. He can feel his own sweat appearing across his skin as he does exactly what you asked for, he fucks you harder, as hard as he can, listening to the squeals you make as he bottoms out inside you and the slapping of his skin against yours.

“M’close,” He moans at you, “M’gonna come, baby.”

“Please,” You groan back, squirming underneath him, “Come for me Joel, please.”

And he does, pulling out at the very last minute, letting go of your legs to pump his cock with his fist before he comes, splashing his spend across your belly as he tips his head back and praises the Lord for you.

He knows he will pay for it tomorrow, but he collapses onto the floor next to you, pulling you into his chest. He can feel the sticky cum mixing with the hair across his stomach, but he doesn’t much care, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you settle together on the cool ground. His fingers trail up and down your spine as you lie together in the quiet of the early evening, finding peace with it all for once. After years and years of being on his own, of being scared to open up and let someone in, he finds he doesn’t much mind the thought of it anymore.

And above all, whether he makes it to the real thing or not when his time is up, that he’s found heaven, right here on your bedroom floor.

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crepezinhos · 16 days ago

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A Dream Come True

POV: Your favorite character’s banner, Wanderer, is about to come out in a few minutes, and, to contain your excitement for his launch, you decided to begin praying for him to ‘come home’. You’ve been now doing that for the past 5 minutes now while waiting for his splash art to appear in the game’s banners, but you suddenly hear knocks on your door, and the person behind it was a weird ‘cosplayer’.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Degradation, praising, usage of toys, edging, overstimulation, slight bruising, power-play and oral/anal sex.

“Scara, please come home… Scara, please come home…” You recited that phrase over and over nonstop, each time making your volume become slightly louder than before due to your comfort in the room.

Your fingers were twirling around each other, your hands fisting against each other tighter and tighter, your forehead resting at the tip of your risen thumbs and your eyes using all their strength to keep themselves closed shut and not let your excitement take over you…

Uuuuuuuggghhhhhh!!!

How much longer do you have to wait for?! Can’t he just launch in the game already?! Why does Hoyoverse have to be so perfectionist about when they launch things in the game?! You’ve been procrastinating your duties for the past hour now just for this occasion!

You couldn’t help but open your eyes due to your overwhelming impatience and they immediately aimed at your screen in search of the current banner’s timer.

2 minutes left

Oh!

Ok! It isn’t that bad! Your praying has really helped time run faster, didn’t it?!

You smiled in joy, quickly switching the way you were sat in your gaming chair to one where you were kneeling at it, making your prayers more determined and realistic.

Scara, please come home…

Scara, please come home.

Scara, please come home!

SCARA, PLEASE COME-

Knock knock

Your whole body shivered in shock when you heard such triggering and recognizable noise, making you immediately wake up from your little fantasy.

For God’s sake! Who the heck could it be?! Can’t you enjoy a moment of excitement and joy by yourself for a single minute?!

You forced yourself to participate in reality instead of isolating yourself because of a screen, and got up from your chair to walk up to your dorm’s door, sighing in agony of killing a bit of your mood off.

It would really piss you off if the person behind it was simply someone making propaganda of some stupid, small project, instead of your roommate.

You gently grabbed and pushed the door’s handle down, opening it normally just like any other time.

“God, you really were determined to call my attention, weren’t you?! I’ve never heard any of my fans think this loud about me my entire life! Congratulations, woman, you have summoned me!” The man that was standing immediately begun scolding you as soon as your eyes were making contact, waving and gesturing his hands around to make his irony more obvious, ending his speech with them at his hips.

But you didn’t want, and couldn’t, say anything back in response, because you were too dumbfounded by the man’s appearance.

Why was the person knocking on your door… cosplaying… and acting like Wanderer?

“Hello? Woman on Earth? Cat got your tongue?” He leaned his body down to reach your eye level and brought a hand close to it, just to wave it side-by-side and snap his fingers repeatedly in an annoying manner.

“Who the fuck are you?” You had finally managed to process the information that was given to you, which caused ‘Wanderer’ to immediately sigh in boredom.

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you’re the kind of fan who pretends to be all innocent and unaware of what Genshin Impact even is in the first place...” He rose his body up again and crossed his arms while scolding your attitude.

“What are you talking about..? I’m not—!” You scoffed at what he said about you, but as soon as you remembered again that you were talking to some random, crazy cosplayer of your college, that probably had to stalk you to find out you played Genshin Impact, and that you had a duty to do, you stopped trying to defend yourself, and changed topics. “You know what? Just get out of my dorm, please.” You told the man while using a hand to push the door back to its place frenetically, trying to make him unable to react due to the lack of time.

"Wow, wow, wow, young lady!” You felt the door stiffen at one specific spot before it was fully closed, leaving a small gap between the interior and exterior of your apartment.

Your eyes widened in shock with the man’s audacity and strength, and immediately looked down to see what had happened with your door. ‘Wanderer’ had stomped his foot forward before you could shut the door, serving as an obstacle for the door to not be smacked in his face.

“Is this how you treat your favorite character after he makes the effort of coming all the way from another universe just to check on you?” You could see his eye showing up between that gap, trying to keep making eye contact with you.

“Are you insane?!” You screamed at him, trying to push the door shut with your both palms now, but it didn’t seem to affect him minimally.

You heard him sigh loudly in boredom again, and this time he sneaked his hand through the gap. Instead of doing something physical or harmful to your or your door, it actually did something that made your jaw drop.

An orb.

And not just any orb.

It was an orb that perfectly resembled how Wanderer used his Anemo powers in Genshin. It was a vertex with a black center and Anemo-colored, wind-like, effects around it. Something that also called your attention were the shiny flying wristbands around his wrists, spinning according to how intensely he used his powers.

It was jaw-dropping enough for you to accidentally drop your grip from the door, which finally made the man successful in opening it. Unlike what you would expected from a maniacal cosplayer or the actual Wanderer from Genshin Impact, he simply walked in and closed the door gently, crossing his arms later while staring at your dumbfounded face.

“Was that enough proof? Or do you need me to open a portal, bring to you Tevyat and talk to Nahida to believe that I’m the one and only Wanderer from Genshin Impact?” He asked while walking around your room like he owned it.

“I…” You couldn’t even mumble an answer to everything you had just witnessed.

This had to be some sort of dark joke being done with you, isn’t it?!

“Cat got your tongue again?!“ He turned around just scold you again while directly staring at you, but he frowned his eyebrows right after and put a hand on his chin to think. “Perhaps I wronged the address…” He mumbled quietly, his head frenetically looking at many corners of your room in search of something.

When he saw your computer, whose screen had turned black due to the lack of movement in the mouse, he rushed to it and sat on your chair, his back leaning in a very unhealthy angle. He quickly shook the mouse to turn it on again, meeting his own face stamped at the screen.

“This computer is yours, isn’t it?” Despite your lack of answer to his question, he simply took your silence as an ‘yes’. “Ok, you’ve saved more than 200 wishes… which I’m guessing is for me…” He mumbled to himself, showing a little bit of his ego, while pressing ‘Esc’ with a finger twice.

His eyes widened a little bit when he met the game’s menu and he immediately leaned his body up again with a big, proud smirk in his face.

“Aha! So you are a fan of mine, and a proud one!” He put his hands in the sides of your computer and spun it until the computer’s screen was visible to your eyes.

(Yes that’s my UID. Yes I had to change my name and bio to that for the sake of this fanfic.)

Your cheeks flushed.

How come you’ve never realized how embarrassing this description was?!

“H-Hey! That was a joke I did with my friends!” You ran towards him, trying to stop him from looking at anything else at your game’s account.

“A joke?! Alright then, bet.” He put a hand in front of your chest to hold your body in place, also grabbing on a wrist to make you watch him messing around with your computer.

With his other hand on your keyboard, he pressed Alt+Tab with his thumb and index, immediately landing at Google. You were thankfully not doing anything weird at the moment, after all, all he met on the screen was homework, but that didn’t seem to be what he was looking for.

“You named your AO3 tab ‘Calculator’?! Really?! That’s pathetic!” He pointed directly at the AO3 tab in your favorited pages until the tip of his finger was putting pressure on it, causing you to flush. “What else do we have here..? AO3, Wattpad, Tumblr… oh? I don’t recognize this one.” He clicked at the very last tab, which made you gasp in embarrassment.

“W-Wait, no! Don’t click on tha—!”

AzeruOfficial

The name immediately popped in big, orange letters as soon as his finger pressed on the left side of your mouse, causing him to explode in laugher.

“Azeru?! You listen to this guy’s ASMRs?! Oh, please, why did I even doubt this was the wrong address? The Nahida profile picture was enough to tell that you were a fan of mine. Do you think that’d bring you luck?” He finally rose from your chair and walked close to you while sitting for an answer.

But once again, you couldn’t answer. It would be really embarrassing to admit to your favorite fictional character that you were doing multiple mini rituals to attack more luck in your pulls.

“You know what, Y/N woman? I’ll tell you a secret… we, playable characters of gacha games actually have the powers to choose who wins and who loses 50/50. Nahida chose who won her 50/50s, Cyno chose who won his 50/50s… and I’m about to do the same now with all the desperate people that want me in their accounts, including you! But the thing is… you know how I am, don’t you? I’m gonna judge every little detail about the people who are wishing for me. That means you’re up to judged too! But… I’m gonna give you a personal chance to win my 50/50s… with a deal.” He rose his hands until they landed on your shoulders, massaging them slowly and got closer to your ear with a big smirk on his lips. “I’m gonna get rid of your sexual frustrations, and you’ll get rid of mine.” He initiated, immediately making your eyes widen again.

“WHAT—?!” You tried protesting, but he immediately moved a down to smack your mouth shut.

“We’re gonna have sex, and every orgasm either one of us have, we’ll do a ten-pull! That’ll happen until you finally get the luck of pulling a five-star, which will be around 7 or 8 rounds. There, I’ll be finally judging whether you should win me or not based on how well you satisfy me. If you fail to win the 50/50, then I’ll guess you’ll be owing me another 9 rounds with a total of 18 rounds…” His cheeks grew pink while he explained his idea, his smirk becoming more sadistic and horny within every second.

You pushed his hand away from your mouth while shaking your head side-to-side too in denial and still keeping your fingers around his worst to make sure he wasn’t going to make anything else to you or your home.

“No! You can’t just barge in my apartment, invade my privacy, and then ask me to have se with you?! I don’t care if you are the real Wanderer or not, this is too much for me!” You screamed at him, but it wasn’t enough for his confidence to die.

“Oh, Y/N, Y/N…” One of his hands moved to your face to hold and caress your cheek. “It’s obvious that you daydream about having sex with me, you’re no innocent woman. Nobody uses AO3 to read SFW shit or listens to Azeru for his SFW audios...” He shook his hand away from your grip and put it on his chest.

You watched his fingers teasingly rub his chest, making your fingers beg for them to be there, until they were at his shoulders, where he slowly pushed his white kimono away from his shoulder, revealing the black-transparent suit he wore under it in a way that made your stomach ache with butterflies.

“I’m the dick you want to proudly ride in that profile description, Y/N.” His forehead slowly leaned closer to yours until they were touching, causing your noses to touch each other next too, and finally… your lips were sealed together.

10 wishes:

Wanderer decided to begin his little game by making you do exactly what your description said: riding him. So, now he was sat lazily at your chair, legs spread, but still with most of his clothes on, while you were hopping up and down on his dick, naked, like you were addicted to it.

“Such a cute little fan… using all your strength to accomplish your sexual need of fucking your favorite fictional character…” Wanderer praised you while giggling in appreciation, deciding to move a hand to pinch your nipple playfully, causing you to scream in the spot.

“AAaaaaAHhh~! Fuck, Scara~!” You arched your back and scratched your nails on his shoulders to contain the pleasure he gave you with his touch.

He giggled again, and moved his other hand to your thigh, squeezing it while trying to also use it to pull you closer to him.

“Why are you arching away from me? You’re supposed to be be enjoying me! Come on…” His husky, dominant voice made you immediately push yourself at his direction until your head landed right between his neck and shoulders.

God, almighty.

Now you wouldn’t leave that position even if a teacher banged on your door with your test’s grades on their hands. Such an intimate position was making your pussy gush around his cock.

Your entire body was swirled with his, which meant that every part of your body touching a part of his body. Your legs spread apart, attempting to hug his waist, your arms moving to his back to feel and scratch his every cell, your mouth drooling on his skin…

You were like some true parasite.

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” The ecstasy of sex was numbing your mind into exactly what Wanderer wanted, a cock-hungry slut.

“Good girl… you’re doing really well…” His hand in your thigh rolled down until he was making contact with your ass, proceeding to tap one of the buttocks repeatedly. “You’re really fucking soaked, aren’t you? God, I’ve never heard a pussy doing such mushy noises…” He took advantage of how your head was positioned under him to whisper directly in your ear, making you shiver due to his teasing tone.

“It’s too much! Too much!” You whimpered pathetically, but Wanderer simply ignored and denied you and kept his hands where they were, refusing to help you in the slightest.

“Is my cock making you feel this good, hum?” He threw his head back in the chair, enjoying his peace in that position.

“Ah, yes! I can’t even… believe I’m actually fucking with you..!” Your arms moved upwards to hug his neck in pure need of more words coming out of his mouth.

“Worthless little whore… unwilling to fuck anyone in this enormous school to keep your pussy for a drawing you only see in your screen… I like the dedication, tho, don’t get me wrong~.” He unexpectedly slapped your buttock as an aggressive way to praise and degrade you.

Your walls clenched around him when he did that, causing a deep groan to echo in his throat.

“Oh-ho? Looks like I’m dealing with a masochist! I wonder how else you’re gonna impress me…” He teased you in the ear again.

“I think I’m gonna…” You couldn’t even finish a sentence due to the overstimulation, rubbing your face against his shoulder in worship for the man you were giving yourself to.

“You’re gonna cum? Own… what a cute little kitten… I wish I could help you with that…” He kept his body unmoved in pure laziness of helping you reach an orgasm, leaving you to do all the effort on your own.

You unfortunately needed to push yourself away from him to hop faster and preciser at his cock. Wanderer’s eyes glowed in joy miring at how your sexes were intertwined with each other like they were made for each other, specifically smirking at how his cock was glistened with your arousal.

Your hands instinctively rolled down until your fingers were threaded with his. Just like all the AO3 fanfictions described him to be, his whole body felt soft like pillows, but cold as ice, so his fingers were causing you to feel even more stimulated. You gripped them like you’d die if you ever let go, while he stared up and down at your bouncing body with a perverted smirk that only seemed to grow more and more. You couldn’t believe you were actually riding the cock of favorite fictional character. All you intended to do tonight was simply pulling for him and his weapon, but not plans have changed… for good.

And finally, the aching bulge growing in your womb had finally reached a peak of anticipation and blew all the way down to Wanderer’s cock, which you left perfectly placed at your g-spot, bullying it while your orgasm came down like an angry river. Your whole body trembled and shivered with the orgasm, saliva pooling your mouth.

“My, my…” Wanderer finally decided to move his body, and hooked his sandals in the floor to pull and roll the chair closer to the table where your computer was lying at. “Let’s see if that orgasm is worth an early pity to Hoyoverse…” He moved a hand to pat your head while the other moved to your mouse. “Look at it.” He fisted your hair right and angled it until at least one of your eyes could mire the screen.

The clicker was already resting at the ‘Ten Pull’ option, and he gave himself some seconds before clicking it.

✧ ✦ ✧

You sighed in broken expectation.

“Well… seems like we have some more rounds to go for, don’t we? Hey, at least you got a Faruzan! Perhaps she’s liking to see your determination in pleasing me… the man she was made for.”

20 Pulls:

You never thought you’d find yourself screaming so loud and shameless because of the precision of a man’s thrusts, especially because you knew there would be complaints about it tomorrow.

Shy, quiet, little Y/N being slammed against her own walls by an unreal man. Could it be any more pathetic?

“You seem to be really enjoying this, aren’t you? You even lost sense of your surroundings! You’re between hundreds of dorms, where everyone is quiet and asleep at this time, yet, you still keep screaming like a dog in heat because of the most basic pounding I could ever do to you.” Wanderer pulled your hair from behind using a hand, forcing you to arch your body even more than it already was, while the other one was being used to lock your wrists behind your back together.

Your hands were scratching the concrete walls you were being pushed against so deeply that you could swear you could break it at any moment.

“Or is that… you want people to know you’re being pounded like a whore in here..?” He giggled at that possibility sadistically, enjoying how fucked-out your face already was.

He suddenly pushed your head against the wall again.

“Let me test it, if you may…” His thrusts became faster, bullying your g-spot in a way that made your eyes roll up until you could see starts.

“Tell me, Y/N, are you enjoying being pounded like a fuck-toy by your favorite character, hum?” He leaned down so he could bite your ear while whispering inside it at such a teasing tone.

He grunted right after making it due to your pussy clenching around his cock once again.

“Aahhhh!! Yes! Yes, I am!” You confessed it shamelessly. It really didn’t matter if anyone could hear you screaming. You were usually a victim of these love-making noises, so, now it was your time to make those horny neighbors animals feel your pain.

“Fucking proud slut… Do you think your parents would like to know their daughter is fucking with a pixel?” He continued his degradation. “That their daughter is being used as a cock-sleeve for me while you won’t even get the opportunity to cum?” That line made your eyes widen in shock and slight fear, which made his smile grow in arousal.

“I… won’t..?” You could barely finish your sentence, but it wasn’t necessary for Wanderer, he could understand it all.

“Duh! I’m the one in control of everything in here! You’ll just accept everything that I give you, and I know you’ll enjoy every single second of it because it’s me who’s doing it! The 6th Fatui Harbinger… a puppet created by the almighty Electro Archon… a man who barely has any empathy in his heart…” He pushed the side of your head harder against the wall. “Now, hold your hat, missy! I’m about to cum and I don’t want you to waste a single drop of me, ok?” He talked to you in a sweet, ironic voice, trying to comfort you for the moment that was about to come, when the truth was that he was desperate to see you suffering.

But, finally, he stopped talking and degrading you to focus entirely on his cock bullying your cervix, ravishing your inside like a mush entirely for his pleasure.

Finally, Wanderer punched his cock shut against your cervix, beginning to blow all of his cum inside your womb. He didn’t dare let any of your body to move so you’d take every drop of him in. You screamed due to the slight burn in your womb that his orgasm caused that only fueled Wanderer’s pleasure while spasming.

“Good fucking girl…” He grunted with a deep voice while his dick still spilled thick ropes of cum inside you.

Finally, when it was over, he let your wrists and head go. You rested both parts against the wall, seeing how your wrists were now marked in red because of his gri on them.

He pulled out of you after a few seconds enjoying your warmth surrounding him so passionately. He couldn’t believe he was finding himself so addicted to the feeling of your puffy pussy, so a few butterflies kicked his stomach feeling how your flesh was swollen in arousal, and how its tone had turned into a light pink due to all the movement that has been happening to it.

“Come here, princess…” You felt his hands pull you backwards, quickly turning you over and lifting you up in the air, holding you princess-style while walking around the room.

He walked towards your computer again, your eyes meeting the wishing screen again.

“Go ahead…” He whispered in your ear, influencing one of your resting arms to immediately act in obedience.

Your trembling hand rested on top of the mouse, which was still landed on the 10-Pull button, and you clicked the left side of it.

✧ ✦ ✧

Wanderer giggled at the purple meteor shining at the screen, and even more when you managed to reach the top of the screen and click “Skip”, only to find out there wasn’t even a Faruzan.

“I’m very sorry for that…”

30 Pulls:

“Now, I wasn’t expecting you to accept such an inhumane treatment. When you find a real man to love and care for, are you willing to sell your dignity like this to him?” Wanderer asked while staring at your face like he wasn’t jacking off to you in the most embarrassing position you could ever find yourself in.

Wanderer had mysteriously pulled out two cuffs and a vibrator from nowhere. The cuffs were being used to lock your legs upside down, against your bed’s corner pillars, while he forced your hands to work on your nipples, pinching and squeezing them. While the vibrator was being used to fuck your pussy nonstop, with the extra tease of the vibrations. You didn’t even know your legs could be pulled away from their original position this much, but now, your pussy was entirely exposed to Wanderer with no obstacles, and with no chance of possibly containing that tortuous pleasure that was numbing your mind again.

“I… I..!” You couldn’t answer such an humiliating question.

“Of course you are. It’s written all over your pathetic face.” He suddenly leaned down closer to your face, simply to slap across your pussy hard, causing your legs to shiver, but the way the cuffs prohibited them from reacting too much, making loud metal noises, amused his eyes and ears. “Haha… you really enjoy this sort of treatment, don’t you? I might just take even more advantage of it as well…” You felt his fingers trace all the way down from your bellybutton to your clit, where he meanly pinched it using two fingers.

“NghAaaAHHHh?! Fuck, Wanderer, pleeeeasee!” You whimpered and screamed while a few forming tears glistened your exhausted eyes, and your hips and legs tried to contain the amount of overwhelming pleasure again.

Wanderer smiled like a maniac at the scene.

“What a lovely scene…” He looked down at your pussy, admiring the view of the vibrator thrusting you tortuously at a slow, medium force. “You know what? No need to torture your poor nipples anymore. Use your hands on my dick and worship me, you whore.” He grabbed your right wrist with his other hand and placed your hand right at his tip.

“I don’t know how to… do this…” You whimpered, begging for some mercy, but he simply sighed in boredom in response.

“How many times have you ever even slept with a man, huh? You never did a handjob your entire life?” He scoffed at you. But thankfully, he moved the same hand that was on your clit and placed it perfectly on top of it, and shaped it in a way that perfectly made your fingers hold his cock.

He started to stroke both your hands up and down, trying to guide you into the basic steps of it.

“This is mostly how to stroke a dick, now use your pretty mouth and praise me, bitch.” He guided you with a softer voice, a little merciful at your situation.

You sighed in relief when you felt clit relaxing from all the pain and overstimulation, which immediately called his attention.

“Oh, you think I’m being merciful?” He giggled at you, impeding you from even starting to think about a praise for him, and used his free hand to grab the vibrator’s controller again.

“Force: Maximum… Speed: Medium.” He repeated the adjusts he did to the vibrator according to how his thumb pushed the sliders of it.

Your head rolled backwards in agony of the vibrations being rougher inside you, reaching even deeper parts of your body at a faster pace. More tears rolled down at your face, and your grip tightened around his length instinctively.

“Hummmm… that’s it…” He licked his lips in satisfaction of what he was doing to you while running his other hand in your head playfully. “Keep jacking me off just like that until I cum again.” He took his hand away from yours, now leaving you without any sort of guidance.

But you kept going for it. Although your body was barely keeping up with the vibrator’s effects on you, your mind insisted on reaching both your and his orgasm like it was your only mission in your life, after all, it was your favorite character who you were fucking with.

“Faster, slut. I’m close.” He managed to step a little closer to you so you could stroke him faster, although his knees and legs were already being limited by your bed.

You swallowed all that pooled saliva in your mouth down, trying to stabilize yourself better and focus on achieving both your orgasms. Your clit was also slightly throbbing, slowly growing the amount and intensity of your soon-to-come orgasm.

Wanderer’s cock was slowly leaking pre-cum out of his tip, lubricating your fingers with the help of your own liquids that remained glistened around him. It facilitated your handjob, and it felt even better to Wanderer. To make his orgasm faster, you suddenly had the idea of letting most of your fingers go, only leaving your thumb and your index to do the stroking. You also made sure the size of the circle you did barely fit his length, making the experience slightly painful to him for squeezing him hard, but also suffocating his orgasm to come out as soon as possible. It’s like your fingers were tying to purposefully pump cum out of him.

“You freaking…” Wanderer’s degradations were fortunately being overshadowed by his own pleasure. “It looks like you’ll die without this…” He giggled at your pathetic face. “Don’t worry… it’s about to come. Are you cumming too?” His voice changed to a softer one again.

“Yes, yes! I am, I am!” You screamed in anticipation, enjoying the sensation of vibrator farming an orgasm from you just more and more, quicker than any dick you’ve ever taken.

“Own… that’s too bad.” He suddenly moved a hand down to the vibrator and ripped it away from your hole in a single move.

You screamed in agony feeling your womb ache in pain from the torture of being unfulfilled, trying to reach anything to cum. You desperately tried to reach a hand to your clit, but Wanderer immediately reacted and held it in place with a hand before you could reach it.

“Nuh-uh…” That was the last thing you heard from him before a sudden load of cum started spasming all over your face and chest while Wanderer giggled and moaned in appreciation and fulfilled pleasure.

Even if you were mad for not being allowed to cum, your hand couldn’t help but keep doing its job, even when he was already cumming, or if he had denied you so meanly.

“You look beautiful with cum thrown all around your face like a porn star…” He fisted his length and aimed it better on your face, just to make sure no drop would be thrown in the sheets or pillow. “Pathetic.” His eyebrows frowned, trying to focus his eyes entirely on you. “Are you enjoying having your favorite character cumming around you like some worthless cock-sleeve, hum?” He slapped your hands away from his length and proceeded to guard his dick back to his pants again and begun walking away from you, no matter how needy you were.

Your eyes followed his figure, meeting him leaning down at your table and messing with your computer again.

“I guess I do…” You answered him question.

“Pft… you weren’t actually supposed to answer it, but I’m glad you love me this much. Let’s see if Hoyoverse recognizes your love for me, tho!” He moved to a farther corner, allowing your eyes to mire the screen better as he clicked in the same 10-Pull button.

✧ ✦ ✧

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” Wanderer crossed his arms and clicked the ‘Skip’ button at the top-corner of your screen before the wishing animation was even done. “Hey, at least Faruzan is watching us! She says you’re deserving of me.” He suddenly turned to you to make that comment.

“Faruzan is… what..?” Your eyes widened a little.

“She can watch us! Gorou and Yanfei can watch us too, actually. Want to say ‘hi’ to her?” He begun walking closer to you again.

“N-No..?!” You immediately nodded your head side-to-side, trying to somehow turn your body away from him, if their perspective came from his eyes.

“Ok, ok! Chill…”

40 Pulls:

“I think I should begin doing to every fan I visit, you know? God, my dick is fucking pulsating because of this shit.” Wanderer said between many deep grunts, arching his head all the way up to the roof while he rolled his feet in the floor.

He was now making you suck his cock while he peacefully sat on your chair, and you were knelt down, still with all that cum spat around your face and the vibrator shoved down at your pussy but in a lower setting. He also made sure to cuff your wrists together behind your back to make sure you had no control over your own pleasure, and just focused on him, no matter how bad the torture was affecting you.

“Sucking me so well… You’re a natural one, aren’t you? You’re just a little smarter for not selling yourself as the whore that you are. But honestly, what could be better than a slutty nerd for a straight man?” Wanderer patted your head with delight, but at the same time still pushing and pulling it up and down on his cock, making you do your job exactly how he likes it.

You were struggling to not choke or gag on his cock, but it was hard, especially when he was looking forward to push all of himself inside you. Luckily, he was being more merciful, for some reason, and you wouldn’t say ‘no’ to it, especially when you believed he would deny your orgasm again.

“This is getting a little boring… should I torture your poor pussy a little bit more..?” He suddenly used the same hand that patted you to pull your hair back, forcing you to do eye-contact with him. “Poor you… can’t even say a word to my question… I guess I’ll just guess that you’d like to say ‘yes’ because you’re a horny slut who’s love to be sucking my cock.” He moved his other hand and grabbed in the controller that was resting in the arm-rest.

When he officially slid the ‘Speed’ option to the right, meaning it has increased, you couldn’t help but open your jaw even wider to let a scream out in satisfaction, but it led you to gag on him right after.

“Good girl… not even daring to pull your mouth away from my cock even if it’s making it harder for you to breathe...” Instead of typically patting your head in praise, he tapped your right cheek with his palm a couple of times, with a strength that made your skin slightly sting, but not enough to make you complain about it. “I might even let you cum…” He angled his head, trying to admire the view of he had of your wet lips wrapping around him, cleaning the stains that were left by you previously, while also trying to act like he was feeling bad for your situation.

Deep down, Wanderer didn’t really care. As long as he got to fill your mouth with his cum and to watch you quiver because of it, he would edge you and fuck you however he liked.

“Prepared, my little proud fan?” His grip in your hair tightened as he stared deep down at your exhausted eyes.

You nodded and tried to relax your jaw for him to fuck your mouth as he desired. It was hurting, anyway, so it felt good to have a reason to do it without being degraded for it.

Wanderer stood up when he felt your teeth piercing his cock with less strength, knowing that would be the perfect position and occasion for him to fuck your throat.

He started thrusting you, and his hips immediately begun crashing against yours erratically, causing a few drops of saliva to gush from your mouth due to how overworked you were. You still could muffle a few moans from the stimulus in your clit and accept his dominance, which Wanderer deeply appreciated, while he allowed his head to angle in direction of the roof, and his own grunts and moans fill the room shamelessly.

“Don’t fucking swallow everything immediately, you hear me?” He took out some of his frustration on you, and you nodded to his order immediately.

With no sort of warning, Wanderer suddenly pushed and locked his entire length shoved down your throat, reaching the deepest he could, which caused you immediately gag. It was even harder now that he was also spilling thick ropes of cum around that overwhelmed your mouth so much, but you couldn’t get rid of them, or else your pussy was going to be a victim of lots of torture.

Wan while he orgasmed, Wanderer pulled and pushed his cock in and out a few times to make sure every corner of your velvety mouth had a little bit of him while he smirked at the roof in ecstasy.

After a final thrust and blow of cum, he pulled out, causing a ‘pop’ sound to come out from your moth, and a few saliva strings to connect your lips to his cock. He leaned his head down to you again and pulled your head upwards to meet his eyes. Luckily, your jaw had been so abused that it remained dropped even when he pulled out, meaning that he wouldn’t need to order you to open it and show the mess he had done in there.

“I hin I onna—” You tried warning him about your coming orgasm, trying your best to not close your lips together, but Wanderer didn’t seem to care, only focusing his eyes in your fucked-out mouth.

“Shh, shh, shh.” He kneeled down in front of you and used a hand to hold you by your cheeks, forcing your mouth locked open while he inspected it.

Wanderer couldn’t help but giggle at the mess he did on you, 100% satisfied with his own work.

“Pathetic fucking slut…” For some reason, Wanderer let go of your jaw for a quick moment just give your left cheek a quick smack with his palm, but before your head could recoil, he hooked your cheeks again back to their place. “Don’t you dare cum without my permission, whore. Now, swallow.” You slowly closed your mouth and sucked all the cum and saliva that pooled in the meantime down to your tongue, and you finally pushed it all in, trying to make it as visible as possible to him.

Wanderer licked his lips when he watched that bulge of cum run down your throat.

“Good girl.” He finally rose his knees up again, beginning to walk towards the computer.

Your toes curled while you tried your best to contain your coming orgasm, but your position really wasn’t on favor of that. But you insisted on that, anyway.

Wanderer held your mouse and turned back to stare at you while he pulled in his own banner. It was lovely for him to watch you worming in the floor while being edged by both a vibrator and a screen.

“Aaaaannnd…” He clicked the mouse gently.

✧ ✦ ✧

“My, my… today is not really your day, is it?”

“Scara, I can’t hold it anymore!” You whimpered for his mercy, your head curling down until your forehead was rubbing against the floor.

“Tch… can’t even get a grip of yourself.” He pulled out the controller from his shorts and slid both options of it to the left, setting both the force and speed to zero.

You couldn’t help but tear down a little bit, feeling that precious peak of pleasure flow away from your womb, while you could hear Wanderer hum a giggle in his throat in pure sadistic arousal of denying you.

50 Pulls:

Finally, your pussy wasn’t being degraded or neglected anymore.

“Holy shit, Scara! You’re gonna break me!” Your back arched against the bed, your head restless in the pillow, and your hands trying their best to push Wanderer’s tongue against your swollen clit.

“Was that supposed to be a bad thing?” His eyes angled up to meet yours, trying to contain a giggle to focus on licking your clit.

Wanderer was the one giving you a blowjob now. His mouth doing wonders in your clit and his middle and index fingers thrusting your swollen pussy in a quick, tortuous pace.

“Please, slow down!” You whimpered loudly but neither his tongue or fingers obliged to your pleas.

“Why?” He initiated, but paused to make sure your clit’s stimulation would not die. “I thought you wanted an orgasm…” His tongue’s tip immediately begun circling your clit to every limit it could reach, causing your thighs to tremble and hug his head tighter against their fluffiness while your mouth screamed high-pitch. “Fuck, your thighs are so soft… How come I haven’t messed with them yet?” You saw his other free arm circling your entire thigh, using his fingers to caress and squeeze it as he wished. “Fuck…” Wanderer moaned.

Before you could enjoy too much of his soft fingers in your thighs, Wanderer suddenly pulled a move that you weren’t expecting to happen. You felt him pull out his middle finger from you but keep his index finger, curling it upward and beginning to rub the tip of finger at your g-spot.

The scream that came out of your throat was feral. You had no idea such level of pleasure was even possible at the first place.

“Here it is…” You heard him groan like a hungry predator when he saw how you reacted to that, and proceeded to keep bullying that spot.

And of course, as soon as he stopped talking, he immediately placed his tongue back to your clit, teasing the most sensitive spots in your body mercilessly, chasing that orgasm like his life depended on it too.

Your hands were threading in the deepest roots of his indigo hair and you were sure you’d have a sore throat the next morning. Loud moans just couldn’t stop escaping your pretty lips, all of them reaching Wanderer’s ears like music. He was loving every second of that round of sex, especially being squeezed by your thighs.

“Oh my God!” You couldn’t hold it back when he started sucking your clit again, and your chest rose upwards in a blink, now sitting on the bed.

It gave you more power, and you definitely used the advantage to try grinding your pussy against his head harder.

“I’m close! I’m so close! Please don’t edge me again! Please, please, please!” You tried your best to lock your thighs around him with a strength that he wouldn’t manage to get rid off, but Wanderer didn’t feel slightly threatened by it.

He was going to make sure you orgasmed a river of cum around him. After all, it would be natural of you to cum hard due to all the edging he had done to you.

“Tease your nipples. It’ll help.” He ordered with a more serious tone, truly focusing his mouth and fingers into their objective.

A hand of yours slid upwards and begun touching your breasts exactly how you like it. The other hand obviously remained at the back of his head. Wanderer grunted in pleasure with the newest view he had of you sitting above of him, his bricked dick pushing his pants to get out of them, aching and trembling in need to get inside a hole as soon as possible.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You curled your body when the heat from pinching your nipples and squeezing your breasts started fueling the pleasure your clit felt.

It really didn’t take seconds until that building climax of yours was finally released by your womb, freeing your pussy from all that previous edging. You threw your body back at the bed, spasming in the sheets, but your hand kept pushing his head against your flesh forcefully, trying to make him take in every single string of cum of that heavy orgasm. Wanderer decided to oblige to you and your personal wish of cumming inside his mouth and moved his mouth down to your hole and pushed his tongue in, while pulling out his finger out of you.

Just like you previously did, Wanderer kept his mouth ready and open to receive every drop of cum that ran down to your tongue. Thankfully, you tasted bitter, which is his favorite kind of flavor, so he really didn’t mind the enormous loads of cum that ran down, licking and swallowing them all like a meal. His hands kept caressing your thighs, trying to keep stimulating you and your body to explode all that cum in your womb down his mouth and liberate some storage for the next rounds.

Your whole body melted down as soon as it was over, and Wanderer finally rose his head up again.

“You have a wonderful taste, dear.” He praised while swallowing the final drops of cum that hadn’t gone down to his throat yet.

Wanderer proceeded to get out of the bed, and once again walk to the computer like he hasn’t just fucked your brains out.

While whistling a melody, he clicked the ‘10-Pull’ button another time.

✧ ✦ ✧

“Still nothing… what pity are you on right now? I forgot to check that before beginning pulling.” He turned his head to you, staring at you aloof.

“I think… I think I was at 10 pulls before…” You mumbled an answer while you regained some consciousness. Having such a heavy orgasm had really exhausted your brain at the moment.

“Then we have approximately two rounds left if I believe you deserve to win your 50/50.” He begun walking to you again with a smirk already growing in his lips and his hand undoing his pants another time.

60 Pulls:

“Such a fucking receptive pussy you have..!” He grunted while trying his best to cage his moans in the back of his throat, his voice sounding husky and exhausted.

You left him really hungry when he decided to be nice to you and suck your pussy dry. When he was fingering your g-spot, all that ran in his mind was the imagery of his cock doing that to you instead, so that’s exactly what he decided to do. Fuck you in a mating press.

Down at your cervix, the tip of cock punched the depths of your pussy nonstop, his words suddenly becoming hungrier and greedier for you. It didn’t surprise you that Wanderer had a slight kink in breeding and just rough sex over all.

“You’re gonna take every drop of me inside again, okay? I bet it’d make you happy to be fucking pregnant with my babies, wouldn’t it, you fucking whore?” He endlessly pounded your g-spot, talking and acting like he wasn’t panting and sweating like a nasty dog.

Wanderer chuckled miring down at your fucked-out face, panting and drooling with his forceful thrusts, but still doing his best to not slow down.

“Such a cute little doll…” He praised you, but his tone made it sound more like a degradation. “Nahida was right when she let you win her 50/50… You were a dedicated fan to this game… and to me.” He giggled as he thought of all those little efforts you were doing to ‘attract luck’ for your wishes on him.

Wanderer’s hands, who were busy pressing your legs against the sheet, tightened around them, slightly scratching your skin. It caused you to hiss and look away from him, which he seemed to immediately repel.

“No, no, dear… keep your pretty eyes on me.” You decided to comply to his sweet, serious tone, but his indigo eyes, glistening and shining in arousal, were applying a lot of pressure on you and your performance, causing your cheeks to flush and your eyes to flick away from his a few times. “Now you’re embarrassed, hum? No need to be, dear… don’t you think I’ve seen it all already? All your intimacy? All the times this pretty pussy of yours clenched around me because of the most inhumane treatment, hum?” Wanderer approached his face to yours, your foreheads and noses rubbing against each other.

You swallowed some saliva down, trying to somehow gather courage to stare at his eyes in agreement with his words. It worked, but if you could turn your face away for the rest of it, you definitely would. You couldn’t believe Wanderer was that incited and determined to make you stare at him while having sex. Did he really find you sexy in this state? Pretty? Or hot? You couldn’t help but be embarrassed.

It didn’t matter. Something else was teasing you and taking your attention away at the moment. Your lips would sometimes touch his by accident every time he smacked his hips down against yours. It was making you go insane. You really wanted to kiss him and learn how does Wanderer from Genshin Impact kiss, but you had no idea if he’d accept it or if this was a good moment for it… Even if you couldn’t decide whether you did or did not go for it, your lips couldn’t help but grind against his every time they touched, and he obviously noticed.

“You want to kiss me, hum? I can see you trying to reach me every time we touch… Unfortunately I only do favors for people if they ask me very kindly, using the magic words… or making them beg for it…” He looked at you with shining eyes, already creating big expectations.

“Please, please, please..! Let me kiss you! At least once! Just once!” You whined while directly staring at his eyes like he desires, which was making him extremely passionate about you, his balls burning and yearning for more of that eager submission of yours.

“Good fucking girl…” His voice was hoarse and husky with how overwhelmingly good you were making him feel.

It was making him obsessed with the idea chasing a double orgasm.

“Are you close?” He asked while intensifying his pace.

“Yes… please let me cum this time with you!” You begged to him, which made his smirk grow in arousal.

“You want to cum with me, hum?” He looked forward to make you say even more pathetic things.

“Please..!” You whimpered while his cock poked your g-spots and wet slap noises from your hips surrounded the room.

“You know what? I’m gonna let you do that just because I want to make sure every little sperm of mine swims to your fucking womb.” The way his eyes widened and stared at the deepest corners of yours seemed to aroused your pussy even more. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!” You screamed while feeling your womb build just more and more anticipation.

And with a final pump of his cock, the both of your cores started spasming cum another time. You and him were grunting and scratching each other as if you were both going to pass out. Obviously Wanderer tried to maintain his posture to pose as this unbeatable, untouchable man to you, but you knew those thick loads of cum being ejaculated on you were all proof that he was loving every single second of those rounds of animalistic sex. And you simply let yourself tremble and worm under him, knowing it was something lovely to him.

When you two were finally done spilling cum at each other, Wanderer finally looked down at where you two were connected and begun pulling his dick out very slowly. He admired watching his cock making such wet, slimy noises due to its contact with your pussy, even if he was moving the slowest pace ever, revealing itself to be all creamy and lubricated the more he pulled out.

“Let’s see if this is finally it…” Wanderer stroked his cock a few times knelt down in your bed before jumping out of it to excitedly walk to your computer another time.

Click.

✧ ✦ ✧

“What a shame…” He punctuated every syllable of his sentence, trying to make it as obvious as possible that he was actually happy about the fact that you didn’t get any Five-Star pull yet. “At least you got two Faruzan copies for two orgasms…” He giggled at the final results of the pull.

70 Pulls:

Wanderer was genuinely more thoughtful and caring in this round, especially because the both of you believed it would be the last one. He decided to service your eyes and finally become entirely naked. It wasn’t anything jaw-dropping, but you did like the few Anemo-colored tattoos he had around his body, especially the one behind his neck, symbolizing his true identity.

You two were back to the bed again, but this time he was thrusting you sideways, while you simply laid down and tried to reach your hands in his body and feel his soft skin.

“You know…” Since he was fucking you nice and slow this time, you could finally have proper conversations with him. “What the heck did you mean with ‘Kabukimono and the Balladeer will cease to exist.’ in the trailer? Does that have anything to do with your redesign and your new name? It doesn’t look 100% good in my opinion, but what can I do about it..? I wish Hoyo had given you a better design…” Wanderer scoffed at that last sentence.

“As soon as you play the new mission, you’ll find it why, and you’ll regret those words a lot. Do you even have any idea of why I became a Harbinger in the first place? ” He whispered right at your ear while one of his hands squeezed a breast of yours gently.

His mouth was softly biting your neck, trying to get a taste of your skin with it and his hands too. His whole body was trying its best to wrap and feel yours, showing a romantic side you’d never expect from him.

You wondered if he ever made his way under another character’s pants… or other fans…

You hated that possibility. You were enjoying this intimate moment with him and daydreaming with the possibility of him being yours and yours only.

“No idea, Scara…” You tried rolling your body in his direction, trying to be closer to him.

“I won’t give you any spoilers…” Wanderer didn’t do anything about your need for his affection and closure, tho.

Perhaps it was still fun for him to deny you even in moments where kinks weren’t involved.

“You feel so good…” You decided to praise him, a hand of yours raising to caress his head while he sucked your neck like a vampire.

“You feel great too.” He pressed many smooches at your cheek and neck while you two shared compliments. “It even has me praying for you to not get a five star in the next pulls… Perhaps I can also make you lose 50/50 purposefully just to keep my dick in this pussy of yours for a little longer.” His voice has husky, moaning and grunting at how your gushy pussy was making a mess of him down there.

Wanderer gave a few glances down at your connected crotches, admiring your curves in the way, but wanting to admire the lovemaking scenario down there. Your gummy walls letting him slide in and out so easily, gushing some liquids all the way down to his balls due to the overstimulation, your sweaty skin rubbing against his... And now his hands were 100% addicted to your thighs. Even if he needed to occupy a hand to hold one of your legs up, he took the opportunity to play with them too, brushing the tips of all his fingers up and down your skin.

It was so stimulating to have him teasing so many parts of your body at the same time, you couldn’t help but begin whimpering again, desiring for more.

“Faster! Please!” Your desperate immediately made Wanderer react to it.

It felt like his dick naturally started going faster just for the sake of hearing you whine his name and desperate orders while his balls became heavier in weight.

“You’re gonna cum already, hum?” Wanderer chuckled in your ear, gently biting its lobe afterwards jokingly.

“Y-Yes! I can feel it coming soon!” Your hand desperately tried to reach his hips, trying to somehow make them go faster.

“Me too, dear… So, make sure to cum it all around me, ok? The same way I’ll be cumming it all around you too.” Wanderer suddenly jumped from his spot and pushed your shoulder until your back was turned to him, thrusting you from behind now while your face drowned in the pillow.

You weakly nodded, your hands gripping on the sheets for dear life as Wanderer’s pace increased erratically. You obviously took the opportunity to increase the volume of your pretty moans.

Seeing your body so arched for him was a view he’d love to watch for hours, especially since it helped his thrusts becoming more precise against your sensitive spots. He spent this whole finale staring at the wet mess you were making of his cock once again, enjoying it as if you were praising him with your voice.

No matter how repetitive they were, once again, your orgasm was breathtaking. Although you enjoyed the idea of being degraded by a man you adore so much, being loved and praised by him felt even better. It explained why it really didn’t take long for you to cum again. Meanwhile you trembled and screamed against the pillow, Wanderer kept thrusting you in that same tortuous pace since he hadn’t reached his own climax yet. At least he deeply enjoyed watching you taking all of him inside even if you were busy being so overwhelmed by your own body wasting all that peaked pleasure. He could now see a few ropes of your cum splashed around his length, truly making your already gummy walls a true mush for him to abuse.

“Good girl… I’m close…” He warned you with a husky groan, and you couldn’t help but try spreading your legs and arching your back even further for him, in arousal of hearing his noises and feeling his cock punching your insides accompanied by wet, splashy noises coming his hips crashing yours.

In a few seconds, Wanderer finally started orgasming too. While squeezing your fluffy buttocks, his tip trembled and ached while pumping his pleasure out of itself. Your body took him all in like it has already been accustomed with it. It didn’t really hurt, and it felt to feel him claiming the deepest parts of your insides all to himself.

Wanderer giggled.

“Did you enjoy this? Taking my semen inside your pretty cunt?” Wanderer leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I… I did.” At this point, you were too cock-drunk to care if anyone would hear your pathetic self-degradation, your stupid screams or if your roommate would arrive home with such a pornographic scene happening.

You were happy that you had so many rounds of sex with your favorite character of your entire life.

“Good! You know your place!” The irony in his tone while his hand roamed around your body made you giggle.

You felt his hands stop at your shoulders, pulling you up from behind. After a few other tricks, he had on his arms, carrying you around princess-style once again.

“Go on. You do it.” He said as he walked close enough to your computer’s screen and sat himself on your chair, still with you on top of his naked lap. “I’m tired. Even if you don’t get a Five Star right now, I have no gas anymore anyway…” He arched his head against your chair’s pillow while waiting for you to finally reach ‘pity’.

Your shaking fingers reached your mouse.

You accidentally shook it away from the button you couldn’t wait to click, making you shake you head and focus, trying to act less lazily, desperately desiring to see what would be the results of all your efforts.

Click.

Your eyes widened.

“Oh-ho?” Wanderer’s attention was brought back to the screen seeing the golden sparkle shining around it.

Your hand froze in place as the first result of your pulls popped with a flash in your screen.

A 3-Star weapon.

You didn’t bother reading its name.

You slowly clicked the screen one-by-one, waiting for every animation of every weapon to load before advancing.

In the final clicks, finally, the big, golden, splash art finally popped.

It was him.

“Congratulations.” Wanderer giggled, tapping and patting the top of your head as if he hadn’t just controlled that.

“You…” You couldn’t even express all that joy you had been stocking for this moment. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” You couldn’t help but hug his neck passionately, which made his a smirk did and become grumpy expression instead.

That was it!

Your objective in the game was finally over!

Wanderer was yours!

“Ok, ok… no need to keep throwing yourself on me!” He rose his hands upwards, trying to avoid touching you while you simply rubbed yourself against him in pure joy of finally achieving your main mission in the game.

“I’m so happy!! Thank you so, so, so, so, so much!” You immediately let him go when he asked for it, and you threw yourself in the table, beginning to print the screen in front of you.

“I would do Weapon Banner round too, but unfortunately…” He paused for a beat. “It’s time to wake up.”

“What?” You expressed your confusion, taking a glance back at him.

“Y/N? Hello?” Those words didn’t match his previous ones, which just made you even more confused. You didn’t recognize that tone on him… but in someone else.

In a blink, all that world disappeared, and your body teleported from Wanderer’s lap to your bed again.

“Oh, God! I thought you were dead!” Your roommate made a ‘phew’ noise when she finally saw your eyes awaken at her perspective.

“W-Wh…” You rose your chest and looked around.

“Weird dream again?” She asked, leaning away from the bed to let you get up.

It was all… a dream..?

“Y-Yeah…” You awkwardly jumped out from your bed, immediately walked to your table, seeing your current main character idling probably for the twentieth time.

The Wish button had a red exclamation mark on it.

The Character button had no exclamation mark on it.

You clicked on it.

Wanderer’s banner was there, and it’s been 2 hours since he arrived in the game according to the timer.

Oh.

It was really all a dream?! All that pleasure and romance was just your brain helping you relieve your sexual needs?! Your romantic fantasies?! Well… you couldn’t deny you were a little thankful for it. The scenario you just lived was something many of his fans would kill for.

Before you could even think about actually pulling for him now, an e-mail notification in the game popped right at center-top of the screen with a little notification sound accompanied, contrasting the screen’s light blue background with its gray tone.

You pressed the ‘Esc’ key in your keyboard twice and quickly reached the e-mail option at the left bottom-corner of the screen. At least you’d get some gems for—

Wait…

What is this e-mail?

It doesn’t have a gem icon, or any item at all. It was just… a message? Coming from… ‘You Know Who’..?

You swallowed saliva while clicking the e-mail.

From: You Know Who

Good luck on the Weapon Banner, and good luck with the new mission too. ;)

(I seriously recommend you have a handkerchief while doing it.)

Taglist: @hitomisuzuya @kindofshyent @shyentsfoundherink @amoyanderes @the-stinky-winky @goofy-ego @bigmantiddys @alatusorrow @luminieee

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

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yanderedrabbles · 1 month ago

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Can you do a noncon of yandere!Incubus x reader?

Yandere Incubus x Nun Reader

Incubus - derived from Latin incubō "nightmare, what lies down on one whilst one sleeps" and further from incubāre "to lie upon."

You woke up with your entire body paralysed. You wanted to scream - for the abbot, the mother superior, anyone.

But you couldn't. You couldn't even move your tongue enough to swallow.

Your rapid breathing was the only sign you were awake at all. Your body lay limp as in sleep. Was this some curse? Had you sinned so horribly that this was your punishment?

It must certainly be the new priest's fault.

He was so handsome, so tall and soft spoken. Your mind had wandered into sin without meaning to. You had knelt at the altar all afternoon, begging for forgiveness from the Virgin Mother.

And yet you had indulged in lustful thoughts all the same. This nightmare was surely your punishment.

"Hush now, dear one."

A voice right next to your ear.

You wanted to scream, to run, to do anything. Who was in your bed? What manner of demon had come to punish you in your worst hour?

You could smell the faintest hint of incense and rosewood. It was the smell of the chapel, of rosaries and prayer. Why did this stranger smell like he belonged here?

A hand came to rest on your thigh.

"Be not afraid."

The man's hand slowly drifted upward, pushing your negligee aside and bearing your skin to the cold convent air.

"All sins must have their penance, sister. I have come to give you yours."

The voice had grown closer and now his lips brushed your cheek. His hand reached the top of your thigh and slowly began to move toward your sex.

Your legs were closed tight and curled towards you slightly, so all his probing fingers found was the barest hint of your slit. Still, it sent tingles all across your cunt when his fingers brushed your panties.

"Such devotion you have, sister. But your lust creeps through."

The stranger's voice was deep but quiet, and somehow familiar.

You thought he would stop at your panties but you were wrong. His hand continued upwards, pulling your negligee with it. He hummed softly to himself and scraped his nails across the skin of your belly.

"When you kneel at the the altar and think still of sin, is that not blasphemy?"

His nails felt far sharper and far thicker than any human's. Claw like almost.

He cupped your naked breast in his hand for a long moment before squeezing it gently. His fingers found your nipple and teased at it, pinching and rolling. How could a stranger's touch feel so good? How could it make you burn inside?

Surely this was no man, but a demon sent to torment you with lust.

His breath was growing ragged and he pressed himself closer against you. Something firm and long ground itself against your ass cheeks, demanding entrance.

His hand abandoned your aching nipple and came to rest against your throat. It was a terrible reminder - this man could cut off your breath with a single squeeze.

"It is God’s will that you should be sanctified."

His cock pushed at the apex of your thighs and slowly slid between them, your cunt lips rubbing along the length of him.

He groaned softly, his hand tightening around your throat. He slowly thrust himself between your thighs and the slick wetness of your pussy dripped onto him.

You felt your body growing warmer and warmer. The pit of your stomach ached in a way that could only be satisfied by his cock. And yet he continued to deny you - rubbing himself between your thighs and teasing your cunt with the friction.

No, you mustn't give in to your desire. This was undoubtedly some incubus, some demon.

And even knowing that, you want to be fucked by it. By him.

He was going faster now and the friction against your clit was unbearable. If you had a voice, you would have been whimpering.

He moaned, deep in his throat. His stubble grated against your cheek as he dipped his mouth toward your neck. He brushed his lips across your skin, tracing lower and lower, until his lips rested at the sensitive juncture between shoulder and neck.

"Shall I leave a mark, sister? So that you may look upon it and be reminded of your sin?"

He nipped at your skin and his teeth felt dangerously sharp.

"Shall I leave a mark? So that you may look upon it and know you have been cleansed?"

His hand still rested on your neck and he used it to pull you closer against him. You felt yourself choke and panic ripped through your body.

He chuckled, and it sounded strangely lecherous combined with his ragged breathing and the slick sound of his cock fucking your thighs. Thankfully he loosened his grip once he was satisfied with your closeness and you could breathe again.

"The dawn comes." He dropped his hand from your throat to your waist and held you flush against him. You could feel hard muscles that flexed with every thrust.

"I long to stay, sister. But doesn't th-the bible say to ask penance in the d-darkest hour?" He was struggling to keep his composure as his cock rammed itself between your legs.

He held you in place with his arm curled around you. Your thighs were warm and slick and almost as sweet as pussy. Oh, how he ached for you.

His breath was coming faster and he growled a little with every thrust. Your poor clit was aching from overstimulation but if he knew about it, he didn't care. His fingers dug painfully into your flesh and he pressed his face against your shoulder to stifle his moans.

You felt close to the edge yourself. Your nipples were burning to be touched and you felt your insides knotting up.

"You filthy fucking sinner," he growled and that was all it took.

You were still riding the waves of your orgasm when he bit your neck and snarled. His cock throbbed against your thighs and hot cum spilled across your slit and down your legs.

He breathed in slowly. When he spoke, he sounded almost mocking.

"Worry not for your sins, sister."

He pulled his cock out from between your thighs. His hands drifted over you, pulling your negligee and panties back into place. His finger scraped up some of the cum on your legs and touched it to your lips, smearing it across them like some perverse kiss.

"Afterall, purificati sumus per caritatem."

You felt the bed dip as he climbed off. Strangely, without his touch you felt yourself slowly falling back asleep. A single thought haunted you as his footsteps faded away.

'Purificati...' wasn't that the exact same phrase the young priest kept using in his sermon?

#unorthodox thigh use #yandere incubus #yandere priest #blashpemy #yandere noncon #yandere lemons #reader insert #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios

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blasphemousclaw · 2 months ago

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ok I keep seeing takes that shadow of the erdtree fumbled the hornsent because they made them too unlikeable and unsympathetic and enabled all those “total hornsent death” weirdos but I wholeheartedly believe that the writers have been portraying the hornsent sympathetically from the very beginning. like just because the story spends time on the darker aspects of hornsent society doesn’t mean that it’s arguing that Marika and Messmer were in the right? in fact I think it’s pretty obviously arguing the opposite?

some of the first sights you’ll see in the Shadow Lands are the scorched ruins, which are surrounded by hornsent grave markers — wooden stakes each with a horn affixed to it, horns being seen as sacred objects in hornsent society. the victims’ shades (by the look of them, ordinary people; farmers, merchants, and laborers) can be found wandering around the Shadow Lands and are often non-hostile; they can be found kneeling, weeping, stacking small stones, or clasping their hands in silent prayer.

there’s a courtyard in Belurat completely filled with hornsent graves, and it’s also the place where Queelign invades you… the sheer number of graves here is horribly sad, and the fact that Queelign attacks here even after all those people were killed honestly makes him seem like an absolute monster

just look at this menace. knocking over the graves of the people he murdered. shame on you Queelign

further into Belurat there’s a very small, missable room where you can pick up the Dried Bouquet talisman:

“A quaint bouquet of dried flowers, offered to a small grave. Raises attack power when a spirit you have summoned dies. The sorrow that flows from the untimely demise of a loved one is a tenderness shared by all, regardless of birthplace.”

this description is pretty directly saying like, “hey, these people are human beings just like you who grieved the loved ones they lost, who couldn’t sympathize with that?”

my personal favorite examples here are the scorpion stews, which are given to you by Hornsent Grandam after defeating Divine Beast and wearing its head:

Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. Traditional meal of the hornsent. Boosts physical damage negation temporarily and gradually restores HP. Once made with love by a certain elderly woman for the family table. Having long gone cold, this soup gives off a rank, sour smell.”

Gourmet Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. An exquisite dish chock-full of mouth-watering scorpion claws. Boosts physical damage negation temporarily and gradually restores a great amount of HP. The thoughts and feelings of the cook melt and blend into the stew, but those who can distinguish the taste of love are few and far between. "Partake, partake, until thou art sated.””

how can you claim that the hornsent are dehumanized when grandma literally cooks you a traditional hornsent meal made with love!!! how heartbreakingly sweet is that!!! especially with the dialogue you get from Hornsent if you share the stew with him:

“What’s this? Do you think me in need of alms? Ah… but this dish. Tis fare o’ the tower. I remember fondly this kin-clad scent. …Brings back memories I’d all but forgot. This, by my troth, is but a dismal copy. Indeed, I think it rather plain to see… things once broken can never be the same.”

we’re presented with the image of a delicious traditional meal that hornsent families used to cook and eat together, and then we remember, Hornsent Grandam is all alone, she has no one but us to cook stew for, and Hornsent has no family anymore to share his stew with.

before wrapping this up I want to mention Leda’s dialogue about the hornsent because I think it describes the situation pretty well (surprisingly well maybe, given what she’s like):

“Long ago, Queen Marika commanded Sir Messmer to purge the tower folk. A cleansing by fire. It’s no wonder the hornsent holds the Erdtree in contempt. That aside, man is by nature a creature of conquest. And in this regard, the tower folk are no different. They were never saints. They just happened to be on the losing side of a war. But it’s still a wretched shame.”

the hornsent were not a perfect society. far from it. but no society is perfect, and the hornsent need not have all been saints for what happened to them to have been wrong. no person has the right to act as judge, jury, and executioner for an entire civilization of human beings. if people want to take the very worst of hornsent society as representative of their entire population and argue that every single one of them deserved to die then I’m afraid that’s their problem, because the game absolutely does not agree with them

#elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #hornsent #hornsent grandam #needed to get this out of my system bc ive seen so many inaccurate and bad-faith claims about the dlc that im losing faith in humanity

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weltraum-vaquero · 1 month ago

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A pillar, familiar

[Part 1] -> [Part 2]

Summary: Jayce returns.

Word count: 1k

Tags: SFW, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, Jayce being the world’s wettest dirtiest saddest guy, and being plagued by The Visions

Notes: Just a little drabble to tide over the fact that I desperately need to hold him but my brain refuses to write anything longer until I am provided context for what he’s been through.

Everything rings, frays around the edges. Fractals in his vision — a disconnect from his body, a forceful rebirth as different forms of him seem to conjoin themselves back into a disjointed, damaged whole. A whole that will not last, cannot last, damaged to its core, rusted in the cogs of its barely moving mechanism.

Jayce has learned far before however long he has spent out of this world that there is one thing to make his brain cooperate, and that still holds true. In spite of every other rule — of the universe, of himself — that has been shattered and cuts into his brain with the aftermath of his resurrection.

He needs a singular point of focus.

And Viktor, Viktor could, should be that. He needs to, he needs to, he needs to. He can’t fail, he won’t, but…

If the world has waited this long for him to be spit out unstrung and wrong, it can wait a moment longer. It can wait until he stumbles down dimly lit streets, it can wait until he trips over himself, heaving, nails digging into the wood of the still familiar door.

He pleads you haven’t changed — but does not expect it to be an answered prayer.

Jayce pounds his weary fist against the door, until it shakes so thoroughly the hinges protest.

The door opens and he is greeted with the curse of his own making pointed at him — all blue lenses raised, gem humming, barrel staring back.

“…Jayce?”

And then it’s your eyes that stare him down instead, and the buzzing, the fractals, the zaps — quiet. Oh, so quiet.

“Oh my god.”

He lets himself stumble into your arms, disgusting and filthy and weary to the marrow of his broken fucking bones.

“Jayce,” you choke out again, arms around his frame, pulling him close, squeezing him so tight it hurts good. A reminder of a constant, a pillar, familiar. You start to sob. He wonders if he’s still capable of reciprocating. His old self, the self you’d loved, would have been bawling. “Oh, Jayce,“ you croak, all of you shaking with the vehemence of your cries. “I thought you were… Jayce, where—? How?”

Familiar fingers thread through his hair the way they used to. Lips to his filthy cheek where they used to fit just right above the stubble of his five o’clock shadow, bottom lip now presses to his thick beard.

“I’m sorry.” Everything else is much too complicated, or too insignificant to put into words. “I-I’m so, so sorry.”

You pull him closer.

“It’s okay.” Your voice ripples down his spine in a soothing wave, every one of his aching muscles sags as if on command, and Jayce goes limp. His knee — the fucked up one — creaks, pops, gives. Forced into it just the way he had been after… after Salo, he kneels, and you kneel with him, brace his weight.

In the quiet of the night, you savor it, savor each other, for a long moment. Jayce swears he can hear the street lamps buzzing when your breath begins to settle, and something about it stings his brain like a needle.

You notice — you must have, because one hand comes up to cradle his face.

“Let’s get you inside,” you tell him, palm sliding from his middle to below his elbow, supporting him on his shaky way up. “I’ll run you a bath, I have some leftovers you’ll love, I still have your tea, Jayce, anything you want. Anything you need.”

And that sounds like everything he could ever want, or need.

But it’s not something he can afford.

“I want… to kiss you, please.” His voice finally comes out as broken as the rest of him feels when he pleads for it, man starved. Something in the edge of his vision pulses, darkens, he has to, he has to.

“Anything you need,” you echo your previous words, and he does need it. Both hands on his cheeks again, cradling him the way they used to when you would smile at him and call him puppy in the warmth of your kitchen on early mornings.

He puts his hands over your own and dreams of it as soft as his mind will let him.

“Come here, puppy.”

Jayce knows patience intimately. An ever present companion throughout his academic journey, as much of a partner as Viktor once was on his job.

And he kills it with the same heavy hands and heart that he will kill Viktor with.

His teeth hurt from how he hurls himself at you, into you, lips smashing like the crackle of lighting, he wants, he wants. He holds you like he wishes he could have before; before the voices and the visions and the pain and the aching fatigue, he kisses you like it’s air. Digs his tongue into your mouth to sample what is the first — and might be the last — taste in a long, awful time. You suck on his tongue and locks it up somewhere in the unfamiliar twists and turns of his altered mind and prays it’ll keep.

You’re the only one who’s waited.

“Come on in,” your voice is breathy when you pull away, the words hit his lips before they reach his ears. He envies how little you know. “It’s okay, it’s all gonna be okay.” Hands on the nape of his neck, he feels small. Not the puny kind, not like prey, but protected. “Oh, Jayce, I’ll take care of you.”

And Jayce Talis can still cry after all.

He clings to your shoulders, a crumbling, pathetic version of the man you once loved, and he sobs, makes an even more unloveable display of himself.

How he pities you for being still so eagerly up to the monstrous task.

“I c-can’t,” he sobs. “I can’t. I have… a promise to keep.”

#jayce talis #jayce talis x reader #jayce arcane #arcane jayce #arcane jayce x reader #jayce arcane x reader #arcane x reader #reader insert #arcane reader insert #i know everyone was expecting pworn from me. and it is being made i prommy #but for now I need to agonize over him #so have this as a quick snack #my writing

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ataraxiaspainting · 2 months ago

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Stuck Replaying the Memory.

Yan Aventurine x GN (Avgin) Reader.

Synopsis: Life exists with the support of the Aeons, but malice is something humanity has reigned over for thousands of years.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, human trafficking, the reader is described having blonde hair and Avgin eyes, descriptions of past abuse (not from Aventurine), and major spoilers for Aventurine's backstory.

Word Count: 700.

a big thanks to my friends @harmonysanreads and @mochinon-yah for proofreading some of it!!

*~*~*~*

You were taught to keep your head down and your hopes just as low – hell seems like heaven this far beneath dead soil and skeletons of the past’s nameless victims.

Your new god makes no critique of your stance that is akin to a prayer’s and not a slave. Despite your posture being near perfect from the eleven or so past lords and ladies that would burn your skin and tongue with hot iron if you had done otherwise, you still find your posture imperfect. Impolite. There were screams and fires just moments before – your master and his new wife fleeing with guards, pleading for mercy that they had never granted to you – and then silence from outside your chamber.

*~*~*~*

“Hair like honey,” The man’s fingers brushing through your locks are cold and have long nails; the same ones that the woman caresses your scarred back with. “Eyes like jewels. Pretty rare little thing; there aren’t many of you left… If you misbehave, perhaps that number will decline even further.”

*~*~*~*

The divine starts to kneel before you – one of his hands caressing the tattoo on the side of your neck.

It’s an odd sight; so odd that you have the urge to look up.

You don’t though, because you have been taught how not to get hurt when great beings bless you with their presence.

You hear him read your new name aloud. “Sun…”

You wince from the past memories of it being called in the places where dinner guests would populate the most on the estate. The gardens and the banquet table especially. They would gawk at you and give you all their unwanted attention. Your behavior would be evaluated and you would either be rewarded with gifts befitting that of a royal or chains befitting that of a dog.

“That isn’t your real name, right?”

The question is raised with a tone that is often paired with your wrist, or worse your hair or ear, being tugged until you confess an answer to the presumption or question. Suspicion of treason leads to you getting charged for the crimes you did to help yourself – a small tunnel being dug with a spoon, a lockpick made from a bobby pin one of the maids put in your hair, bleeding feet from running as fast as they could carry you – most of the time you get hurt or put in a small room by yourself until you beg to be released from it.

*~*~*~*

“But if you listen, the promise to love you will never be broken.” His wife adds.

*~*~*~*

This god looks like you.

Eyes akin to a galaxy that has lost its stars. Flowing hair that reminds you of your lord’s treasure trove locked down below. There is a tattoo on his neck similar to yours, but has some imperfections that only you would notice. It says ‘Slave’ but the outline of the word seems a bit rough. The artist had an uncooperative muse it would seem.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. His tone is sweeter now – possibly from how he had taken note of the trembling you were trying so hard to hide. Your ears register his voice and your brain compares the many screaming, yelling, heinous voices from the past. The memory starts to play in your brain like an electrical shock one of the maids would give to you whenever you would do so much as to look past the doorway to the outside world.

“Kakavasha?”

“It’s Aventurine now,” Your old friend stands up holding the chain attached to your handcuffs. Something tells you they won’t come off any time soon. “We have a lot to discuss, [First].”

He swings the key in his other hand and puts it in his pocket.

“I’m not letting you go again.”

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solelifauna · 2 months ago

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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (Prologue)

If she could, (Y/n) Wayne would go back in time and make sure she was never taken in by Bruce Wayne and his pack. Now, she has to live with the fact that her life may end on the day of her 18th birthday, that she's going to be slaughtered and ripped apart by the very people who she wished loved her. It's alright though, 'cause she has a plan. However, things are starting to get weird... scary weird.

You arrive at Wayne Manor at age twelve, newly-shifted, anxious, and hopeful. Your mother, an apparent old hook-up of Bruce Wayne, had decided that she couldn’t take care of a half-werewolf hybrid and proceeded to leave you to CPS as soon as you presented as a shifter. CPS of course ran a blood test to see if you had any viable relatives who would be able to take you in, something custom for children of shifters. You guessed they thought that shifters would be more inclined to take in a kid if they were related, something to do with pack bonds and whatnot.

So imagine both you and the worker's surprise when Bruce Wayne came up as a paternal match on the blood test. Everything that happened afterward was a blur. After several back-and-forth phone calls and e-mails, your caseworker made you pack whatever little belongings you had into a bag, herded you into a car, and started driving towards the nicer edge of Gotham.

You sat in the backseat, hope searing through your heart as you mulled over your fate. It wasn’t uncommon for already established packs to take in other members, especially if the newcomer was related to someone already in the pack. Of course, there would be an adjustment period in your case, you didn't expect to get along with everyone immediately, but it would all work out, right? Mr. Wayne had already signed the papers that officiated his custody over you, so that must mean he wanted you, right? A pack wouldn’t tolerate just anyone on their land, let alone in the heart of their territory.

So if they were allowing you to live with them, then that means that they were willing to consider you as pack. Your heart soared in the backseat, the hope and promise of a family and pack making you giddy with joy. According to your caseworker, there were seven other pack members, all legally considered Bruce Wayne's children. That meant you’d have siblings too; a lot of them at that. You couldn’t wait to hang out with them and play in the forest on the property.

However, when you finally pull up to the manor's entrance, things don’t go quite as you expected. First off, it takes a full ten minutes after your caseworker rings the doorbell for anyone to answer, and when the doors finally open, you find yourself looking up, and up, and up, until your eyes meet the cool steel-blue gaze of a towering man: Bruce Wayne, the pack leader, the alpha, your father.

You offer a tentative smile, trying to gauge his reaction, but he only gives you a brief glance before turning his attention to your caseworker. They launch into a conversation about paperwork and other mundane details, Bruce nodding as he opens the door wider, gesturing for you both to come inside. Stepping through the threshold, your eyes widen at the interior—grand and sprawling, yet somehow almost cozy in its opulence. A warmth you didn’t expect fills the space, as though it’s been carefully curated over time to be both stately and lived-in.

Your gaze drifts to an older man who approaches you with a kind smile, Alfred, the family’s butler. While Bruce and your caseworker continue their conversation, Alfred gently asks about your journey. You eagerly tell him about the deer you spotted on the drive over and how the surrounding forest seemed like something out of a story. Alfred listens patiently, nodding with a smile as you ramble on, your nerves momentarily forgotten.

Eventually, Bruce and your caseworker finish their conversation. She kneels down to give you a final goodbye, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly before she leaves. Now it’s just you and Bruce. You turn toward him, shy but hopeful, ready for something—a welcome, perhaps. But his expression is unreadable, his gaze indifferent, almost detached. The excitement bubbling in your chest fades, replaced by a quiet pang of disappointment.

Oh. You thought he’d be happier to see you.

Bruce studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable and a bit cold. It feels like he’s assessing you rather than welcoming you. Your excitement dims, but you keep your smile, hoping maybe this is just his way, that he’s just not sure how to be around a kid like you yet. After all, he’s the head of this massive family, and you’re a brand new addition. Surely he needs time to warm up. But as he looks you over, he finally speaks, his tone polite but distant.

“Alfred will show you to your room,” he says. “You’ll have some time to settle in, and we’ll talk more in the morning.” Then, as if you’re not really there, he glances back at Alfred. “Make sure she’s comfortable. And let the others know we’ll have dinner in an hour.”

With that, he turns and walks away without another word. You stand there, still holding your bag, feeling the weight of disappointment settle on you. You’d imagined this moment so many times—meeting your father, being accepted into his home, his pack. You hadn’t expected hugs or anything too mushy, but something warmer than whatever the hell you just experienced. Maybe a smile, or even a nod that felt like you mattered. Instead, all you’d received was a look that barely acknowledged you.

Alfred clears his throat softly, pulling you from your thoughts. “Right this way, young master,” he says with a gentle smile, gesturing for you to follow. “I’ll give you the grand tour tomorrow, but for now, let’s get you settled in your room. It’s rather lovely, if I may say so.”

You nod, mumbling a quiet, “Thank you,” as you follow him up the grand staircase, each step echoing in the vast, empty silence of the manor. Despite the opulence and luxury surrounding you, it feels a bit lonely and cold, a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort you’d imagined this home would have. Alfred tries to fill the silence, pointing out various rooms along the way: the library, the kitchen, the sitting room. You nod along, doing your best to listen and absorb it all, but your thoughts keep drifting to Bruce’s indifferent expression, the way he hadn’t even looked back.

Finally, Alfred stops in front of a door and opens it, revealing a spacious bedroom with a large bed, a cozy armchair by the window, and shelves lined with books, even a stuffed wolf on the bed, clearly placed there just for you. The sight tugs at your heart—a small attempt to make you feel at home.

“I hope it’s to your liking,” Alfred says softly, watching your reaction.

“It’s—it’s really nice. Thank you,” you reply, setting your bag down by the bed. You glance around, taking in the details, wondering if Bruce had anything to do with the setup. But something tells you it was probably Alfred who made sure it was welcoming.

He nods, giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Dinner will be soon, and you’ll meet the others then. Don’t worry too much; they’re quite an interesting group, but they’ll warm up to you soon enough.”

You smile back at him, grateful for his kindness. Alfred excuses himself, leaving you alone in the quiet room. You sit down on the bed, running your hands over the soft blanket, still clutching that little bit of hope you have left. Maybe Bruce just needed time to adjust. Maybe, in his own way, he was trying to accept you.

But as you think back to the way he looked at you, you can’t help but feel a pang of uncertainty. You wonder if he’ll ever see you as part of his pack—or if you’ll always be an outsider in this place that you’re supposed to call home.

[Hey guys! This was a super short prologue, I promise the other chapters will be at least 2000 words. Anyway, I want to say that this story will be DARK. Like I'm being so serious rn, like this shit is messed up so please be careful!!! I'm talking about potential cannibalism...still, hope you enjoyed this!]

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sir-tuitsum · 3 days ago

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An Empress' Harem.

In where, some of the honkai star rail men become your concubine. Focused on how you came to meet them and integrate them into your harem.

Men: Sunday, JingYuan, DanHeng, Gepard, Aventurine, Dr Ratio.

Note: no warning, just a birthday gift to my friend <3 thanks for winning the battle of the sperms. probably choppy and feels rushed, wasn't edited but this is for you <33

Edit: A continuation explaining your concubines' dynamics is out, ig..? Here: https://www.tumblr.com/sir-tuitsum/771149330670354432/an-empress-harem

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Sunday

During your years as a princess, of course your husband would need to come from a strong clan to provide you better supporters in your campaign to become crown princess and later Empress. At the age of 9, your father had already gotten to work and convinced your mother, the then Empress, to betroth to the Oak Family's young son who was close in age to yourself.

You met the 10 year old only weeks later, he was as gentle and man-like as you'd expect from a son of a noble family. You easily sensed his tense demeanor around you, he made it his mission to make sure you were pleased the entire time you both were together.

"I will ask the maidservant to give us treats. What do you like?" You took the Oak clan's son for an outing in the Southernmost Imperial Gardens, it was closest to your father's palace as he would've liked it anyway.

"Ah, are you a fan of treats? What treats do you usually like getting?" He stood quite straight with a hand behind his back, as he should be.

You blinked, "Treats are okay. I usually end up eating Honey Cakes I suppose."

"Honey Cakes are sweet, I think I'd like to have one too."

When you asked him why his face scrunched up a bit while taking a bite, he simply brushed it off and said it was sweeter than he was used to. You assumed the maidservant had messed something up in his cake and asked your father to replace her later on.

Either way, Sunday was your personally chosen future royal consort by the former Empress, your own mother, so naturally you held him to high regard.

He was then and now, the very epitome of a perfect consort. He was given praises by both your mother and father quite often for his etiquette and behavior whenever he came by the Imperial Palace. It was enough his family received praises for their efforts in kingdom management by your mother, also with your father praising his family's influence, seeing you as set in stone for the throne being already favored well by your mother.

You married him as soon as the age was appropriate. On the wedding night, he had frigidly arranged old husbands' tales, from using plants said to boost fertility to saying prayers to placing down objects rumored to be favored by the aeons. He had kneeled before the bed after the priestesses and servants had left the private chambers, his hands clasped in prayer.

"The priestesses gave us enough blessings, no?" You jested. You were not surprised of course, years of being together with him had shown you his sweet devout heart towards the aeons. You found it an entertainment to tease him over the years.

"It is good to show the gods your own faith as well, to ask them personally shows your trust in them and pleases them more after all.." you felt almost bad for interrupting his prayer, with the way he glanced up at you afterwards, "perhaps you should join me, we could give honor to Ena for a stable marriage."

It was not uncommon for you both to spend your leisure time praying. Maybe your fondness for him came from the fact he didn't only run to the gods when something went wry. You remembered the first time, when you were but 11 and had visited the Oak's residence without much of an announcement due to having been passing by and decided to stop to visit him, you had been told the young lord was praying as he usually did around his hour. Your better manners told you to wait but in the moment you had made your way to the family's temple and easily made your way inside, as no one would stop an imperial heir so easily.

You found him on his knees, offerings before him as a painting of Ena laid before him on the wall. He was focused, not noticing your entrance. You observed him from where you stood, the relaxed look on his face wasn't normal for you. He was always at attention and the image of sophistication every man wanted to be, composed at all times. The gentleness of him this time wasn't the expected one of his stature, something about the moment almost felt intrusive. You were quiet in your strides towards him, having a closer look at his face now, you assumed it was the dim lighting of the candles but he looked like a different person. You looked forward at the image of Ena then kneeled next to him and clasped your hands together as well. It just felt right.

Praying with the other became something shared between you two when you both found time together.

You shrugged, "I don't see why not."

JingYuan

An incident had occurred during the celebratory banquet in which the pet kitten of a noble had disturbed the peace by causing a servant to lose balance and create a mess. A great disrespect to the royal family, your mother then had chastised the pet's owner publicly and declared the kitten to be skinned alive to teach everyone a lesson of letting creatures run wild in an event like this one.

Well, you found this sentence to be bad, for the kitten at least but your mother's temper was something to be observed carefully, you'd rather not make the evening more unpleasant for her. Or yourself.

It would be three days later when you'd hear noises when you were taking strolls after a long day in your lessons to clear your mind. You had stopped to rest in a pavilion before you'd journey your way back to your palace and heard it. You told your servants to wait for you at the pavilion as you made your way towards the noise as stealthy as one could be, peeking from behind a wall, you saw a boy perhaps older than you kneeling before a bush. There was a bowl next to him and his hand was stretched into the bush.

"pspspspsps-" you had heard from his mouth, ringing confusion bells in your head.

Then you saw it, the pearl white kitten itching out from the bushes only to be attacked with immediate petting from the young boy. That cat looked an awful lot like the cat ordered to die. It shouldn't be, as you saw the peeled skin yourself. It shouldn't be, what person in their right mind would walk straight into a death sentence like this. This definitely wasn't the cat sentenced to death.

So, you watched the should-be-dead kitten make its way toward the bowl of food, meowing in gladness then going right back in to continue eating.

"Does that feel better, Mimi?" The will-be dead boy muttered softly, his tone soft as he ran his hands through the kitten's head.

You felt more uncomfortable when you recognized his face, the amber eyes and the white hair, the black spot on his face-

Jingliu was a popular swordsman hailing from a clan who rose to a respected military family from her great efforts and achievements in conquest. She took in a young distant cousin whose family had fallen on hard times and raised him to take after her and continue her legacy of sword masters. You met this boy after he had accompanied his caretaker to the Imperial Palace for the banquet to celebrate her recent victory. You remembered seeing his face when he had come to greet you and your mother formally before the banquet commenced. You remembered how much your mother revered and praised Jingliu for her military prowess. You recalled thinking the cat faced boy had delicate features.

Military families were highly regarded by the Imperial family. They were considered military when someone received honors and official recognition from the imperial family for carrying out a successful military operation. These families usually aimed to produce soldiers and were determined to ensure all their descendants carry out their military duties for generations. You were curious about Jingliu’s choice to have a man carry on her military legacy though, most unusual.

You looked back at the white haired boy caressing the young kitten like a babe. You admired his idiocy in a sense. His actions were careless and could cause lady Jingliu trouble if he was not careful- this he was not being either. And yet his actions had somewhat touched you.

You also wanted to help the kitten during the banquet, maybe this could be your second chance.

An invitation was given to the Jingliu's household inviting the now young man to enter a concubine selection for one of the princesses. To his surprise, he was one of the first chosen by her.

Gepard

During your concubine selection, you heard the name Gepard Landau and you immediately decided then and there you would take him as your concubine as well.

In the years before your dynasty sat the imperial throne, the Landaus had supported your family during the civil war. The first Empress of your dynasty had taken a Landau son for her main husband, the royal consort then, the empresses after her had them as apart of their harem for years. This was an easy decision for you.

Moreover, it keeps the Landaus in check, they had weird influence over the imperial military. It would be tricky for you, if Gepard caused any trouble you can't be too strict on him, his family would find way to stick their hands into harem issues and shield him.

Either way, the Landaus are close with the Imperials, this was expected.

With your royal consort next to you, you watched the carriage wheel in with the Landau's sigil, the proud lion, waving from its flag as it pulled up to your palace gates. The custom was that you shared chambers with the concubine on the day they arrive as per tradition. You didn't have much appetite for him. You met the Landau and his older sister when you were still a girl, you had proudly announced to your father the moment he left your presence that he was beautiful and you should have his hand when you grow older, much to your father's pleasure. Whenever the Landau family bought their children around you were always expected to play with them, this was your pleasure, then you had a strong craving to have him.

Out of sight, out of mind. The Landaus preferred to raise their younger offspring away from court. Gepard and his baby sister would spend their time in the countryside with their father from the capital while their big sister would have to handle the duties as the heir apparent in the palace with their mother. Your childish affections dispersed over time. He was now a thing that was a part of the happier times of childhood more than a person you wanted.

Watching the blonde lion step from the carriage, dressed in the colours of his house and the veil on his head, your mind wandered back to the boy you knew. You recalled you barely looked up during the concubine selection and only said yes because she heard his name and accepted him immediately. You never got to look at him.

As per tradition, he kneeled before you every 2 steps he took until he was directly in front of you. At the final kneel, he didn't rise and awaited his new wife’s command to rise, her official welcome of him into her household. Your expression softened, though only slightly. With deliberate grace, you extend your hand toward him, “Gepard of House Landau,” your voice calm but carrying the weight of tradition. “Rise and take your place among those who are my harem.”

He took her hand, her touch steady and warm, yet undeniably regal. As he stood, the space between them felt both vast and impossibly close.

The things that were not said, unspoken words and battered feelings, it was obvious your feelings didn't go as deep as his. The consummation night was not as deep as he wanted it to be. The words, “Tradition demands our Union but I shall not ask any more of you than what you are expected to.”

Control, commands, longing, he did not expect indifference.

Gepard watched you leave, his thoughts a tempest. The girl he had once played with as a boy had grown into a ruler he could not yet fully understand. But for the first time since entering the palace, he felt less like a pawn and more like a participant in a game he was only beginning to learn

Dan Heng

Your history tutor himself held personal vendetta against the Vidyadharas, if you listened to the man explain the history surrounding them, you'd think he was personally there to experience the atrocities.

Though, you did not dislike him for it. The consequences of the old dynasty's actions did not disappear with time.

389 years ago, before the first Empress of your family overthrew the Vidyadhara Dynasty in the 5 Year War, the final ruler of the Vidyadhara was a man. Male rulers were few to none in the country's history, the only reason Dan Feng found himself on the throne of Gold was from a lack of women in the succession. The fertility of the Vidyadharas has dwindled over time until it reached a point they had to turn to a man to inherit the throne. This was their final mistake.

Undoubtedly, this was the worst sovereign to ever step foot on the throne. The first Empress of your dynasty led conquest against the tyrant and in five years time, the Vidyadhara dynasty were no longer legitimate rulers. They were stripped of their lands, titles and wealth, casted off and put under surveillance by your family after the death of

the tyrant. Bans were carried out against them, stay away from the capital, they couldn't hire help without the approval of the new dynasty, the next head of their family was chosen and controlled by your family, etc.

Now, there were two bans you had to be mindful of; Marriage of a Vidyadhara was determined by your family. Vidyadharas are forbidden from entering the royal harem. For the safety of their dynasty never rising again. This wasn't a problem for you until you were approached by an advisor, speaking of a young Vidyadhara being seeked out by a noble for marriage, a noble of importance. Your natural response would be to ban this immediately, you can't mix Vidyadhara blood with your allies. Perhaps it was the late night meeting but you asked for the noble to bring forth his intended bride.

You will continue to blame the late night, the young man, Dan Heng he called himself, a pretty Vidyadhara from the main branch of the family. I'm your own defense, the pretty boy seemed less interested in the idea of the noble woman being wedded to him and his responses seemed almost robotic. In your own defense, his corrupted blood shouldn't be mixing with your allies. It doesn't matter how you took action to stop this, what matters is the marriage was cut off that night. It doesn't need to be bought up that you made conditions to a serious ban your family pressed on since childhood.

As long as Dan Heng was banned from ever becoming the Royal Consort, having any children he produced inherit your throne and his family did not receive the honors the average concubine’s family was given, you could handle this. You won't regret this later.

Aventurine

In your opinion, the Interastral Peace Cooperation had a too heavy grip on the nations, even empires like your own. You recalled a visit of an ambassador from one in your youth, finding the preparations grand enough for a king to welcome one.

Even as an adult, you found their existence in the continent as a pack of dogs being held on a leash by one person. You weren't stupid enough to deny the good they've done to unite nations in peace but you weren't ignorant enough to deny their less honorable pursuits.

Your ascension to the throne naturally led to an ambassador of theirs being sent to congratulate you. It was a natural tradition for them to appease their royals and for the rulers to accept it.

Here in the banquet hall, you observed the other envoys bought with her as they entered. They approached you first with the proper greeting, Jade took the liberty of introducing herself then everyone else. You masked your disinterest until you noticed the blond, you hadn't seen him before, his frame seemed to be smaller and hidden behind the rest. You leaned back in your seat, looking over his form as Jade introduced him.

“Aventurine, a young man in training by myself.”

“What would you train a man for?” You didn't take your eyes off of him, he must've not grown very fast as a child, for whatever reason.

“Whatever a man can understand, there are good ones out there, like him.” She gestured to the blond with a smirk on her face.

You smiled in response to her jest then looked back at Aventurine, “if he is so good, he can tell me about it.” You motioned to the close spots to yourself at your table, inviting the blond to sit with you instead of his colleagues for the remainder of the banquet.

Well, this training, he won't be able to complete it anymore.

Dr. Ratio

Your first tour as Empress took place in the capital, the pride of the Empire. Your last tour had been when your mother was alive, only last year in another smaller city. On the third day of your tour, your royal consort and yourself were set to visit a distinguished university, personally funded by your family for years.

Education was one of your most prized priorities, there was a pull back before your ascension that you sought out to fix when you were Empress. You made it your own issue to get the universities and lower level schools back on track. If your ears were right, others took advantage when the imperial eyes looked away from it.

In an attempt to not disrupt the school day, you met the staff of the university privately and spoke with them about affairs in education.

Though, mid conversation, a man with purple hair had made his way into the room, abruptly so. His eyes locked rather aggressively with some of the educators in the room but he made his way before you, all proper greeting requirements met and rising when you gave him the permission to. He took a seat close by, opening the book in his hand, “It is my ill manners I arrived so late, it was not intentional on my part and I mean no disrespect to you, my liege.” He bowed his head to you as he spoke, you did not respond with anything but a nod.

“If I am so bold, I want to ask for more than just funding to the schools but for funding to the students as well,” he started, “I just think these funds benefit the schools more than the students. Even with the school funded by your majesty’s kind grace, it's not enough to have their needs met to stay in it.”

Well, it was a pleasant change of pace. You've spent the last half hour here with the inhabitants in the room sending you praises for the funds, then asking for more, then praising you, then repeating. Even his tone was too high to be asking that for someone of his standing. Whatever the person next to you said, you didn't hear it, you lowered your chin to look the purple haired man in the eye.

“And what else?”

The amber eyed man's eyes widened slightly as if he had expected a different response from you. He composed himself quickly after, spinning through his books, “I have personal petitions from my own students in here, some I've tried to sponsor myself, I had them write down their troubles-” you found the reactions of the other folks in the room to be almost comedic. Perhaps a less public inspection was needed.

You rose from your seat, “Perhaps you can tell me more about your students and requests, somewhere else, a stroll or a room to ourselves, whatever you desire.” You looked the man over before making your way towards the door, expecting him to follow in tow. You cared less for what the other women in the room had to say at this moment about your sudden leave, you only looked back to make sure the purple beauty was following you.

Yes, you can't wait to learn more about what he has to say and can do.

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#aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #sunday x you #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #gepard x reader #dan heng x reader #honkai sr x reader #concubine #concubinage #concubine x reader #au #hsr au #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x female reader #female reader

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