#obsessed with the long robes and heels

[victoria-pedrettis]

Outfit Appreciation ➝ Olivia Crain

[moonstruckme]

Hi I just discovered your blog and i’m obsessed with your writing, like the talent?? unmatched.

Could you do a longer fic about doctor remus and reader? Maybe he is graduating from med school and reader is so excited and proud of him and being insistent on taking a million pictures of him in his graduation gown? Or reader is pregnant and he is total helicopter parent, making sure he is up to date on everything and knows all the proper procedures for keeping their baby safe?

Or honestly anything!! I love your writing :)

Thank you sooooo much

Hi lovely! I realize you asked for a longer fic and this is not that, but thank you for the idea and I hope you like it anyway :)

med student!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 434 words

“Dove.” Remus sounds exasperated, but he’s smiling. “That’s enough.” 

“Just a few more,” you negotiate. You’re standing outside the venue of your boyfriend’s graduation ceremony, forcing him to pose in front of a fountain. “Throw your cap in the air!” 

“I’m not doing that.” 

“C’mon, be a sport,” James urges him. 

“I think, traditionally, you’re not supposed to do that until after the ceremony.” 

“Oh, traditionally,” Sirius drawls. “He goes and gets a fancy degree, and now he’s all about convention and decorum. What a tosser.” 

Remus snickers, and Sirius grins. “There, do it, do it!” 

You snap as many pictures as you can get of Remus smiling, though he rolls his eyes once he realizes he’s fallen for a ploy. 

“Alright,” he argues, blushing. “You’ve already taken pictures at home, and again on the way here. How much storage can you possibly have left?” 

“Enough for pictures of you walking the stage,” you say. “We’ll need some after the ceremony, too.” 

Remus heaves a long-suffering, and you laugh. 

“It’s an occasion! We’re going to want pictures of you in your cap and gown.” 

He gives the large gown he’s wearing a distasteful glance. It’s more of a robe, really, with velvet trim and large, billowy sleeves. “I look like a pompous prick.” 

“Can’t argue with you there,” says Sirius. 

“Piss off.” 

“You look distinguished,” you say. “And handsome.” 

“He is handsome.” James reaches forward, pinching Remus’ cheek and giving it a little shake before his hand is knocked away. “He’s our handsome guy.” 

“Ooh.” Sirius points to some trees in front of the building. “That lighting looks nice. Maybe we should get a few there.” 

“No,” says Remus, at the same time as you clap your hands and say, “Perfect!”

He sighs again. “Fine. But those are the last ones. Then we go inside.” 

“Deal.” You take his hand, drawing him close as you walk towards the new spot. “Thanks for humoring us. We’re proud of you, you know?” 

“Thanks, dove.” He drops a kiss on your head, cheeks glowing pink. “I’m glad you—careful.” He catches you as the heel of your shoe gets caught in a crack in the pavement. “You’ll break your neck.” 

“He knows that sort of thing now,” you boast to Sirius and James. “He’s a doctor.” 

“Not until after the ceremony,” James teases. 

“Handsome, distinguished, and educated.” Sirius whistles. “You really snagged a good one, babe.” 

“You’re all ridiculous,” Remus mumbles embarrassedly. 

“I know,” you chirp as if he hasn’t spoken. You go up on your toes, pressing your lips to his cheekbone. “Sorry, boys, he’s all mine.”

[kelseytheballerina]

My current daily glam:

I use hot rollers to set my hair into 1940s big Hollywood curls. I use a vintage brush and comb to take it them down and really get into that vintage glamour mood. Do I put on some louboutin heels while I’m doing it? Yes. Why do you ask?

I’ve become a red lipstick wearer. Crazy how such a small change in this one detail of my makeup routine has made such a huge impact. I feel 10x more polished and put together when my lips are red. I’ve been a lip tint girl for so long that it felt crazy at first, but now that I’m used to it, I can’t go back ♥️

A cat eye and blushy cheeks are a must. I love looking rosy. Lashes when I feel like putting them on, simple brows, some concealer and a touch of powder. Easy but impactful.

My favorite part of my outfit is the thigh high stockings and garter underneath, especially when paired with a cute pair of panties. This has also become a daily thing for me and I am not going back. Skirt, dress, pants, pajamas, doesn’t matter. I love the gentle pull of the garter straps and I love seeing it peek out the top of my skirts, or just looking at it straight on in the mirror before I’ve put clothes on. I’m very leggy and wearing stockings and garters add such a huge va va voom. Literally obsessed.

My collection of vintage marabou heeled slippers is ever growing but I can’t help it! Click clacking around the house is way too fun. And when I’m wearing my long floor length robe and satin nightie it just feels so incredibly fab.

I always have something Chanel on. Chanel perfume has been my staple for years now, but I also love their body lotion, body wash, and (some) skincare items as well. Sunglasses, bag, shoes, something must be accounted for. I don’t know why but some cute Chanel earrings and a spritz of perfume puts me in my “on” mode, even if I’m staying at home. I’m just not quite done without a touch of something Chanel.

[arabella0001]

i know its long but plspls give it a chance!!

Unspoken Tension / Quiet Obsession (Illumi Zooldyck x Reader)

Unspoken Tension / Quiet Obsession

Pairing; Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Anime: Hunter x Hunter

Synopsis:A woman with secrets, a man with control. Illumi Zoldyck finds her, and their silence lingers with something unspoken.

Warnings: slow burn, dark themes, rough sex, fingering, comfort in Illumi's way

You’ve always kept to the edges, moving through life unnoticed. You’ve had your share of battles—physical and otherwise—and learned early that blending in was as important as any skill. Your past is a blur, just fragments you’ve pieced together, like a puzzle you can’t quite finish. In the shadows, you thrive, and that’s enough for now.

There’s always been a quiet certainty that when the time comes, you'll be ready. You’re waiting for something, though you can’t say what—maybe a clue, or someone who knows more about you than you do. Tonight, it’s just another evening, another bar, another meet-up. But your instincts tell you something’s off.

The bar was shrouded in shadows, the faint flicker of a red neon sign casting eerie shapes on the cracked floor. You pushed through the heavy door, the creak of its hinges slicing through the muffled hum of conversation. The smoky air wrapped around you like a warning, but you ignored it, your heels clicking softly as you approached the bar.

Two men sat at the far end of the bar, framed by the flickering light. One of them lounged lazily, a grin stretched across his lips—Hisoka. Beside him, the other man sat perfectly still, an eerie contrast to Hisoka’s theatrics. Illumi who absentmindedly wrapped his hair around his finger while Hisoka teased him, clearly enjoying the moment.

Illumi’s needle hung from his robe as usual, while his other hand rested casually on his knee, ever ready to strike if necessary.

“Illumi, don’t be so dull. Where’s the fun in that?” Hisoka chuckled, looking amused.

“Be quiet, before I make you” Illumi replied, rolling his eyes in annoyance, still sipping his drink.

Hisoka’s gaze snapped to you almost instantly when he sense your nen, knowing exactly that you are Y/N,  his grin unfurling like a blade hidden in silk. He adjusted his suit jacket with deliberate flair, the faint gleam in his eyes hinting at both curiosity and danger.

‘Well, well, look what we have here,’ he purred, stepping toward you with unsettling grace.”

“A lovely lady, all alone and ripe for the picking.”

He extended his hand towards you, offering it with a gentlemanly air, though a glint of mischief danced in his eyes. Illumi remained seated, his gaze flicking between you and Hisoka, his needle twitching slightly, as though he were anticipating whatever might happen next.

You raised an eyebrow at Hisoka’s bold approach, your crimson lips curling into a smirk. A small part of you felt uncertain—there was something about this situation that didn’t sit right. “And just what do you think you're 'picking'?” you asked, your voice calm, but with an edge of challenge. Despite the unease creeping at the back of your mind, you accepted his hand.

Hisoka's grin widened at your firm handshake, a spark of amusement lighting up his eyes. “Oh, my dear, I’m not sure yet. But I have a feeling you’re going to make this evening very... interesting,” he said, leaning in a bit closer, his voice turning husky. “Care to join me and my friend for a drink? We can discuss the possibilities.”

Meanwhile, Illumi remained passive, watching the exchange with interest. His eyes flickered between you and Hisoka, seemingly impassive. His needle quivered faintly as though waiting for the right moment to strike. When your gaze met his, Illumi simply studied you with his trademark unreadable expression, the coolness of his stare sending a chill through the air.

Your eyes lingered on the Illumi’s needle, his cold presence making your pulse quicken. There was something unsettling about the stillness in his posture—it was like he was watching you with the precision of a predator. A chill ran down your spine, and despite the intrigue it sparked, you couldn’t deny the sense of danger radiating from him. Your heart beat a little faster, the unease creeping up on you, yet you couldn’t look away.

“You seem... interesting,” Hisoka said playfully, glancing over at Illumi with a mischievous glint. “Our friend here looks like he’s already sizing you up. No need to worry about him,” he added, with a wink.

You turned to Illumi, your gaze steady, though you felt a slight unease at his intense observation. The silence between you two was thick with unspoken tension. His presence was imposing, yet you couldn’t look away.

“Well now,” you said, breaking the silence. “A drink won’t hurt.”

You slid into the stool next to Illumi, crossing your legs and leaning back slightly, still feeling his piercing gaze on you.

Hisoka clapped his hands together clearly pleased with your response. “Excellent choice! Another round for us, bartender,” he called, signaling for more drinks.

Illumi remained silent, his posture relaxed but alert. He regarded you with the same intense focus, his gaze sharp, as if assessing you on some deeper level.

“So, tell me” Hisoka said, returning to his seat beside you after collecting the drinks. “What brings a stunning woman like yourself to a place like this? Looking for adventure, perhaps?” Hisoka’s question was light, but the underlying curiosity was clear.

You took a slow sip of your drink, never breaking eye contact with Illumi. His attention was making you feel uneasy, but you stayed composed. You couldn’t help but wonder: why was he playing with that needle? What was his deal?

After a moment, you turned to Hisoka, offering him a small, confident smile. “Just passing through, waiting for a friend,” you replied smoothly, your voice calm but with a hint of mystery. “What about you two?”

Hisoka chuckled, sipping from his own glass. “Just enjoying the finer things in life: good company, fine liquor,” he said, winking at you playfully. “Perhaps a little entertainment, if you’re in the mood.”

Illumi, on the otherhand, didn’t respond verbally. He simply tilted his head slightly, studying you with a gaze that felt as though he were trying to see through you. The needle twitched once more, drawing lazy circles in the air, as if testing the limits of the tension between you.

The silence stretched on, uncomfortable, until Illumi finally spoke. “Your friend had better hurry,” he said, his voice cold and flat. “This isn’t a safe place for someone like you to linger.”

His words were cryptic, but there was an edge to them, something that made your skin prickle.

You glanced at Illumi, your eyes narrowing. “Someone like me?” you asked, not sure if you were being threatened or warned. Hisoka, sensing the tension, stepped in to break the silence.

“Now, now, let’s not jump to conclusions,” he said with a soft chuckle, placing a calming hand on Illumi’s shoulder. “Our guest seems perfectly capable of handling yourself. Aren’t you, Y/N?”

Hisoka’s tone was light, but there was a subtle edge beneath the words, as though he, too, were aware of the growing competition for your attention.

You noticed the way Hisoka’s touch on Illumi’s shoulder seemed both friendly and possessive. It was clear they had some sort of complicated relationship, and you were caught in the middle of it. But what caught your attention, is that they know your name, but you decide not to speak about it.

You raised an eyebrow at Illumi’s comment, trying to keep your cool despite the unease settling in your chest. “I’m not sure I understand. Are you perhaps… threatening me?” you whispered, your voice steady, even though the tension in the room was making your heart race.

Illumi’s lips curved into a faint, mocking smile. “Threaten you? Oh, no. I'm merely offering... a warning.” he purred, his tone oozing with condescension. “Consider it a courtesy.”

Hisoka quickly intervened, his voice soothing. “Pay him no mind, Y/N. My friend there speaks in riddles sometimes. It’s just his way of showing interest.”

Despite Hisoka’s attempt to downplay the situation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something more complicated was at play here.

You looked at Illumi’s mocking smile, the chill creeping up your spine at his tone. You turned back to Hisoka, trying to ease the tension. “I’m not sure I buy that,” you murmured to yourself, then smiled at Hisoka, attempting to lighten the mood. “But thanks for the intervention.”

Hisoka chuckled, clearly unfazed by the tension. “Ah, always so perceptive, aren’t you?” He raised his glass in a toast. “To new acquaintances and the intriguing games we play, hmm?”

The tension between the three of you remained thick in the air. Illumi leaned back in his seat, watching you intently, his needle still tracing lazy patterns in the air.

“So, what do you do for a living?” you asked, trying to shift the focus back to Hisoka. You could feel his eyes flickering over you, sensing your curiosity.

Hisoka grinned, clearly pleased by the question. “Oh, I dabble in many pursuits,” he said. “Collecting rare artifacts, attending underground fights, savoring exquisite cuisine...” He paused, letting the words hang in the air for dramatic effect. “And occasionally, I provide a... more exclusive form of entertainment for those who know how to appreciate certain... unique talents.”

His words were playful, but there was a sense of pride in them, as if he relished in his dangerous lifestyle.

As you turned to Illumi, you could feel the weight of his silent gaze. His presence was suffocating, and you sensed the layers of his mystery, but he didn’t respond.

“What about your friend?” you asked, your tone casual, but with a trace of challenge. The air between you two thickened.

Hisoka’s grin widened, but he avoided giving you a direct answer. “Illumi here is a man of many talents,” he said vaguely. “He has a... certain calling in life.”

Before you could ask more, Illumi stood up abruptly, the scraping of his chair on the floor making you tense.

“Enough idle chatter,” he said coldly. “If you’re done prattling, perhaps our host has something more stimulating in store for us.”

He turned and began to walk toward the exit, leaving an unsettling silence in his wake. You watched him leave, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. His mention of a "host" caught you off guard. Who was he talking about? The way he spoke suggested something far more serious than a casual meeting, but you couldn't place the connection yet.

“Well, that was certainly an interesting introduction,” you said to Hisoka, trying to shrug off the discomfort.

Hisoka chuckled, unbothered by Illumi’s abrupt exit. “Yes, Illumi can be a bit... intense,” he said. “But don’t worry, he means no harm... unless provoked.”

Hisoka leaned closer to you, his breath warm against your ear. “I find your reaction to him quite fascinating,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “You’re more than just a pretty face, aren’t you?”

You turned your gaze back to Hisoka, intrigued by his words, but still uncertain of where this night would lead.

“Well, I've faced worse than his eccentric personality,” you smile jokingly.

Hisoka’s grin widened, clearly amused by your bravery. “Is that so? I’d love to hear more about these ‘worse’ encounters of yours. Perhaps over dinner, hmm?”

He signaled the bartender for another round of drinks. As they waited for their refreshments, Hisoka continued to regale you with outrageous tales of his adventures, each one more bizarre and captivating than the last.

Meanwhile, Illumi re-entered the bar, his expression as inscrutable as ever. He slid onto the stool next to you, his presence subtly overwhelming. Despite the physical space between you, you couldn’t escape the weight of his gaze, as if he were silently dissecting your every movement.

You glanced at him as he returned, going back to the host he’d mentioned earlier—but of course, you had no idea what he meant by that. There was something about the way he had said it, a certain expectation, as if his presence here was tied to more than just a casual meeting.

You noticed Hisoka’s quick, subtle gesture when Illumi sat down—a nearly imperceptible nod, as if confirming something without words. It didn’t escape your attention, but you couldn’t quite place its significance.

“Okay, I’m done,” you say calmly, though clearly irritated. “Do you have a problem?” you ask, looking at Illumi, bracing yourself for whatever might come next.

Illumi’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his expression unreadable. However, there was no sign of anger or aggression in his demeanor. Instead, he tilted his head and studied you with a curious, almost intrigued look.

“Problem?” he repeated in a low, measured voice. “Hardly. I simply find your... audacity rather intriguing. Most would have fled in terror at the sight of me, yet here you stand, unflinching.”

He leaned back in his stool, his posture relaxed, but his gaze never strayed from you. “Tell me, what drives someone like you to face danger so directly? Is it bravery, stupidity, or perhaps something else?”

The question lingered, heavy with a subtle menace. Illumi’s gaze pierced into you, as if trying to read something in you only you could answer. Hisoka observed the interaction, clearly fascinated, eager to see how you’d handle Illumi's probing.

You took a deep breath, trying to remain composed despite Illumi's unrelenting stare.

“It’s none of your business,” you respond firmly. “And... why should I be terrified of you?” you meet his gaze without flinching, even though your heart races slightly faster.

Illumi’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile at your defiance. “Brave words,” he murmured softly. “We’ll see how long they last.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your wrist in a fleeting, chilling touch. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of disgust and morbid fascination. “Perhaps I should demonstrate just how terrifying I can be,” he purred, his voice carrying a dark, unsettling promise.

Before you could react, Hisoka placed a hand lightly on Illumi's shoulder, his voice a smooth contrast to Illumi’s ominous tone. “Now, now, let’s not scare off our lovely guest just yet,” he chided, a playful edge in his words.

Turning to you, Hisoka flashed that signature, teasing grin. You quickly pull your arm away from Illumi’s touch, a sense of unease growing in your chest. Your heartbeat quickens, his aura undeniably dangerous, but there’s also something about him that draws you in. Still, the feeling of being unsettled and annoyed lingers.

“Thanks for the intervention,” you say to Hisoka, giving him a brief but grateful look while keeping your attention fixed on Illumi. “But I think I’ll leave now.” You stand, meeting Illumi’s intense gaze one last time.

Hisoka rose to his feet with a sweeping bow. “A pleasure, You. I do hope our paths cross again, though perhaps next time in less... tense circumstances.”

As you made your way to the door, Illumi remained seated, his gaze unwavering as he watched your every movement. “Until next time” he whispered, his voice carrying a dangerous promise.

Once you exited the bar, Hisoka whistled lowly. “Quite the spark between you two,” he said, his eyes flicking to Illumi. “I hope you can handle the flames to come.” Illumi remained silent, watching the door with a slight, unreadable tilt of his head. A faint, almost imperceptible flicker of something crossed his face—perhaps a mix of interest and calculation—but he didn’t comment. Hisoka smirked, sensing the night was far from over.

You stepped outside into the cool evening air, the wind brushing against your face. Your thoughts raced with everything that had happened—Illumi, Hisoka, the odd tension that hung in the air between the three of you. Something about them—about him—kept you intrigued, despite everything telling you to stay away.

The following days passed in a haze. Between training your Nen and trying to keep your mind focused, the encounter with Illumi and Hisoka lingered at the back of your thoughts. You went through your routines, honing your skills in the solitude of your own space, but a nagging thought kept surfacing: Could this strange connection with them somehow serve your ultimate goal?

Your instincts told you to stay cautious, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something much larger.

That night, just as you were about to slip into restless sleep, a knock at your door shattered the silence. Your heart raced, pulse quickening with anticipation. Hesitant, you approached the door, peeking through the peephole. A shadow loomed outside.

"Illumi?" you whisper, barely above a breath.The knocking continues, more insistent this time.

You hesitate, every instinct telling you to stay safe. Yet, curiosity overwhelms you. Slowly, you open the door just a crack.When you see Illumi standing there, you freeze for a moment, unsure what to do. Part of you wants to slam the door shut, but the other part... is intrigued.

"How do you know where I live?" you ask, your voice a little more uncertain than you'd like to admit. "What are you doing here?" You keep your gaze locked on him, your body on alert.

Illumi steps inside without waiting for an invitation, closing the door softly behind him. In the dim light, his presence feels almost suffocating—like a predator watching its prey.

"You shouldn't be surprised," he murmurs smoothly, his voice like silk. "In our world, secrets aren't hard to uncover. Especially when someone as... captivating as you is involved."

He steps closer, his proximity sending a ripple of heat through your body. The danger in his every move is undeniable.

"I came to extend an invitation," he says, his voice low, mesmerizing. "Tomorrow night. A private gathering. It will be... an experience you won't forget."

You swallow, trying to hold your ground as his gaze locks onto yours. His presence, so close, sends an electric current running through your skin, leaving you with a chilling sense of unease—and, for some reason, something else.

"I don't think so," you respond, trying to keep your composure. "I don't trust you yet to accept an invitation from someone like you."

Illumi’s lips twitch into a small, calculating smile as he watches you. His gaze is cold, yet there’s something predatory in it. "That’s precisely why you should consider it," he says, his voice low and steady. He reaches forward, his fingers grazing the side of your face with eerie precision, his touch cold yet deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine.

"We’re not used to being dismissed," he continues, his voice unwavering and cold, yet there’s an underlying intensity. "Especially by someone with potential. Consider it a test—a way to prove you’re worth our attention. A challenge, if you will."

He leans in slightly, his breath cold against your ear. "If you prove yourself, the rewards may outweigh the risk," he says, his voice steady but carrying an unsettling weight. He pulls back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turns to leave. "Until tomorrow night. Don’t take too long."

You watch him leave, your heart still pounding in your chest, the intensity of his presence lingering in the air. You hate that your body responded the way it did. Part of you feels intimidated, but there's also an undeniable temptation, a pull you can't seem to shake.

The next day, you're pacing your apartment, anxiety gnawing at you. The offer, the invitation, the mystery—it's all too much to ignore. Despite your better judgment, you're drawn to the dangerous allure of Illumi and Hisoka. By the time the sun sets, you've made up your mind.

You arrive at the mansion on the outskirts of town. The eerie quiet of the place sends a chill down your spine, but your curiosity pushes you forward. Inside, you spot Illumi waiting for you, his piercing gaze immediately locking onto yours.

"Well, well," he drawls, his voice like velvet. "Look who decided to join us. I must say, I'm impressed."

You stand tall, despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, meeting his gaze with a steely resolve. "Impressed by what exactly?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "I must admit, I find your... choices somewhat intriguing." You don’t dare voice your true thoughts, though a part of you feels the pull of his presence.

Illumi chuckles softly, a sound that sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. "Oh, my dear," he purrs, his eyes dark with quiet amusement as he circles around you, "it’s not just my... choices that draw you in, is it?" His voice is smooth, dangerous, a predator’s calm before the hunt. "It’s the power I carry, the silent threat, the allure of what lies beneath the surface."

He steps even closer, so close you can feel the heat of his presence. Stopping behind you, he leans in, his breath grazing your ear. "But don’t worry," he murmurs, his fingers cold as they gently cup your chin, turning your head to face him. "I won’t hold it against you. In fact, I find your boldness... rather intriguing."

With a deliberate motion, he guides your chin to face him fully. His cold fingers send a shiver through you, contrasting with the warmth of his breath against your skin. "Shall we proceed?" he asks, his voice low, commanding, almost hypnotic.

You try to hold your ground, though it’s hard not to react to his proximity, to the way he takes control of the space between you. "Let’s get this over with," you say, your voice betraying a hint of unease, though you strive to sound unaffected. "Lead the way."

Illumi's grip tightens slightly, a silent reminder not to challenge him further. "As you wish," he responds, releasing your chin with a fluid motion before stepping back.

He leads you down the mansion’s corridors, each step echoing through the vast, silent halls. When you reach a heavy door, guarded by silent figures, Illumi unlocks it with a key, revealing the eerie blue light spilling from within.

"Welcome to our little sanctuary," Illumi announces. "Inside awaits an experience beyond your wildest imagination."

You step inside hesitantly, immediately feeling the weight of the atmosphere. The air is thick, pulsing with an almost tangible energy, and the blue light casts an ethereal glow over everything.

"What is this place?" you ask, your voice tight with uncertainty. "And who else is here?" You glance around, sensing eyes on you from the shadows, though you can’t make anyone out.

Illumi senses your unease and speaks with a calm, almost possessive tone. "This is a sanctum for those who appreciate the finer things in life," he explains, guiding you deeper into the room. "The company is... eclectic. But don’t worry, they mean no harm... for now."

He looks at you, his gaze unreadable. "As for the others, let's just say you've caught the attention of some very... interesting individuals." He places a hand on the small of your back, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "We’ve been discussing the possibility of adding you to our little family."

Your breath catches. "Family?" you repeat, your voice wavering slightly. "I don’t even know what you do. I’m not sure I’m interested in joining your... family."

You glance around again, noticing how the shadows seem to shift, as if alive, watching you.

Illumi’s grip on your back tightens, his voice low and cold. "Oh, you’re already a part of it, whether you like it or not," he says, his tone calm yet firm. "Once you've crossed paths with us, there’s no turning back."

He leads you to a raised dais at the center of the room, motioning for you to sit. "Sit," he commands. "Now."

You obey, though the feeling in the room only grows heavier, more oppressive.

From the shadows, Hisoka emerges, a wicked grin on his face as he looks you over. "Well, well, look at our little bird perched so prettily," he says, his voice dripping with dark amusement. His gaze shifts to Illumi. "She looks like she belongs here, don't you think?"

You feel a shiver of dread as Hisoka's gaze locks onto you, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Part of you feels threatened, yet the way Illumi stands near you, his eyes fixed on Hisoka with a certain quiet possessiveness, makes you feel... somewhat protected.

Hisoka steps closer, his grin widening. "In a world full of mediocrity, we seek out the extraordinary," he says with a mocking tone. "And you, my dear, are a rare gem indeed."

Before you can respond, Illumi places a hand on Hisoka’s shoulder, signaling for him to stop. "Enough games," he says quietly, but with an edge to his voice. He turns back to you, his demeanor shifting to something more serious, yet still oddly intimate. "We’re not merely what people assume us to be. We are... curators of chaos, seekers of the sublime."

You listen to his words carefully, still trying to wrap your mind around everything. You're intrigued, but more than a little scared. There's so much you don't understand.

"So, what is it you want from me?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper. "What is your game? What are you, assassins?" You joke, but oh dear, their gaze tells you everything, and you freeze, realizing the truth of their job.

Illumi’s smile grew, a thin, calculating line that didn’t reach his eyes. "Assassins, mercenaries, enforcers—labels are irrelevant when you're dealing with the best of the best," he said, his voice a low purr. "We’re not concerned with ownership; we’re more interested in partnership."

Hisoka snorted, his grin widening. "Partnership implies equality, sweetheart, and you're nowhere near our level. But don’t worry, we’ll bring you up to speed."

Illumi placed a hand on your knee, his touch surprisingly gentle considering the deadly nature of their profession. "Think of it this way—you'll be part of an elite circle, operating on the fringes of society. No ordinary life for you anymore, my dear. Just the thrill of the unknown, the rush of adrenaline in the face of danger..."

Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize they are indeed assassins, and it troubles you more than you intended. You feel in danger here—there’s no way out. The mansion is full of people waiting for you to join their group, but... why?

As you overthink, staring at them intently, you suddenly realize something that terrifies you. You've heard of an assassin family—the Zoldycks—and you can't help but ask, a tremor running through you.

"Illumi... what's your full name?" You look at him, hoping for honesty, feeling tense and drawn to this dangerous man, almost seeking his comfort despite the fear bubbling inside you.

Illumi’s smile widened, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Ah, you've done your research," he purred, leaning in closer to you. "My full name is Illumi Zoldyck."

He watched your reaction intently, savoring the shock on your face. "Yes, I come from a long lineage of assassins," he continued, his voice low and hypnotic. I’m the shadow that moves unseen, the force that shapes outcomes without lifting a finger. I’m a master of control, an architect of fate—everything I touch bends to my will."

Hisoka chuckled darkly, interjecting, "And a total psycho, if you ask me." Illumi shot him a withering glare, but then focused back on you.

"But enough about us," Illumi said, his tone shifting to a more intimate cadence.

Your eyes widen at the revelation, a chill running down your spine. You knew about the Zoldycks, but never thought you would meet one, especially not one so close to you right now.

"A Zoldyck..." You mutter under your breath, trying to process the new information. You look at him, feeling a mix of fear and fascination as you’re drawn to him. "Why do you need me to be part of... your group?"

Illumi doesn't answer directly about your role in the organization, but he can’t help but feel drawn to you in a way his family wouldn't approve of. Though cold and calculating on the surface, there's something different when it comes to you. He won’t show this weakness, of course.

Illumi leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded you with an unreadable expression. " Let’s just say... you’ll fit nicely into the framework we’re building. There’s always a place for the right person."," he replied cryptically.

Hisoka, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist inserting himself into the conversation. "Yeah, she's got the spark, the fire in your belly. We could mold your into something truly exceptional."

Illumi’s gaze flicked to Hisoka, a warning glint in his eye before returning to you. "Of course, it’s not just about our needs. We believe you have potential—a latent talent waiting to be unleashed."

Hisoka paused, studying your reactions closely. "So, what do you say, my dear? Are you ready to embrace your destiny and become part of our little family?"

You swallow, feeling like a pawn in a game you don't fully understand. The allure of power, of being part of something bigger than yourself, is undeniable.

 "I... I’ll think about it," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, torn between fear and curiosity. You can't tear your eyes away from Illumi.

Hisoka, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist inserting himself into the conversation. "Oh, my, you're torn between fear and curiosity? How delicious! I can't wait to see what you’ll choose... or maybe I just want to watch you squirm."

Illumi’s gaze flicked to Hisoka, a warning glint flashing briefly in his eyes before returning to you. There was an undeniable intensity in the way he looked at you, like he was considering you, weighing you, perhaps even contemplating something more. "Of course, it’s not just about our needs. We believe you have potential—a latent talent waiting to be unleashed."

Illumi rose from his seat, towering over you, his eyes boring into yours. "I’ll give you time until tomorrow night."

Afterward, you head home, your mind consumed by everything that happened. As you think, your thoughts drift to Illumi.

As you departed, Hisoka called after you, his voice echoing through the mansion's grand halls. "Don’t take too long, darling! We’re eager to see what you'll become!"

Illumi, meanwhile, remained standing, his piercing gaze following you until you disappeared from view. Once alone, he allowed himself a fleeting moment of introspection, his thoughts drifting to the enigmatic woman he had encountered.

Despite his usual composure, there was an unfamiliar warmth simmering within him, a sensation he couldn’t quite define. Illumi pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the task at hand—molding you into the perfect asset for their organization.

The next evening, as planned, Illumi awaited your arrival, his demeanor as cool and collected as ever.

You arrive at the mansion, nervous and troubled by the decision you just made. As you step inside, you see Illumi standing there, looking calm and collected as always. Your heartbeat quickens.

Illumi greeted you with a nod, his eyes assessing your appearance and demeanor. "You've decided, then?" he asked matter-of-factly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Come, let's discuss the details of your new role."

Without awaiting a response, Illumi turned abruptly, his movements deliberate and fluid as he led you deeper into the mansion. His steps echoed in the silent corridors, and you couldn't help but feel the weight of his presence, like he was drawing you into a world you weren't sure you were ready for. The maze of corridors felt endless, each turn more isolating than the last.

"I assume you have some experience with combat, " Illumi said, his voice low, almost assessing. His gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, a subtle but deliberate scrutiny. "We'll start with a physical test. I want to see what you're capable of. "

As Illumi finished speaking, the door creaked open behind you, and Hisoka leaned in casually, his grin widening as he sized you up. 'Well, well,' he purred, 'Let’s see if our recruit lives up to the Zoldyck legacy. "

Following Illumi, your pulse quickens, a mix of nervousness and something else, something unfamiliar. The door to the training room swings open, and the cold gleam of weapons lining the walls hits you like a slap. This was no ordinary training facility—it was a shrine to death, and you were about to become a part of it.

I... yes, I have some combat experience,' you reply, trying to sound confident, but your voice betrays a hint of uncertainty. His gaze, slow and deliberate, traces over you—making you feel both exposed and oddly... seen. You force yourself to stand tall, though your heart races under the weight of his scrutiny.

You notice Hisoka observing you with keen interest, his grin widening as he watches your interaction with Illumi.

With a deep breath, you brace yourself, feeling Illumi’s eyes still on you, studying, calculating. His nod is almost imperceptible, yet his gaze remains sharp and intense, like a predator’s. 'Let’s start with something simple—agility, reflexes. Show me what you can do.' His words, though neutral, hang heavy in the air, a silent challenge."

He pointed to the obstacles ahead—hurdles, balance beams, pendulums swinging with mechanical precision. 'Your task is simple,' Illumi said, his voice calm but firm, 'Cross without making a mistake. Only the ground should feel your weight. Understood?'"

Before you could respond, Hisoka chimed in, "And remember, sweetie, speed and precision are key! Show us what you're made of!"

Illumi glanced at Hisoka, his expression a sharp mix of annoyance and something else—something colder. But he didn’t waste words. His gaze snapped back to you, every ounce of his attention now fixed on your every move. "On my count," he instructed, raising his hand. "Three... two... one..."

You nod, taking a moment to observe the obstacles before you. Your mind races with strategies and tactics, trying to decide the best approach.

As Illumi starts counting down, you spring into action, moving swiftly across the floor. You leap over the hurdles, balancing carefully on the narrow beams, and dodging the swinging pendulums with quick reflexes.

Halfway through, you feel a surge of adrenaline, pushing you to move even faster. With a final leap, you land safely on the ground, panting lightly.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you look up at Illumi and Hisoka waiting.

Illumi watched your performance with a critical eye, noting your speed, agility, and overall technique. When you finished, he gave a slight nod of approval. "Not bad. You managed to complete the course without major errors."

Hisoka, on the otherhand, was practically bouncing with excitement, clapping his hands togetyour gleefully. "Bravo, bravo! What a delightful display of athleticism! I must say, I'm thoroughly impressed."

Illumi raised an eyebrow at his friend's exuberance but turned his attention back to you. "Next, we'll assess your marksmanship skills. Follow me."

Without a word, Illumi turned, leading you to a shooting range tucked in a quiet corner of the room. The stark silence of the space was almost oppressive, broken only by the faint sound of your breath. 'Prove your worth,' he said coldly, 'Handguns, rifles, knives. Show me what you can do.

You follow Illumi to the shooting range, feeling a mix of confidence and trepidation. You’ve handled guns before, but not in a formal setting like this. Nodding, you select a handgun first. Illumi helps you check the weight and grip before you aim at the target, his touch on your hand making you unfocused for a second. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze the trigger, hitting the center of the bullseye. Next, you move on to the rifle, your aim steady and true as you fire off round after round, each bullet finding its mark except one. Finally, you pick up a knife, flipping it expertly between your fingers before demonstrating your throwing skills. The blade embeds itself in the wood of the target.

Illumi observed your performance with a calculating gaze, his expression unreadable. When you completed the tests, he stepped closer, inspecting the target results.

"Decent accuracy with the handgun and rifle," he remarked, "but room for improvement. That stray shot could’ve been fatal in a real-world scenario."

Hisoka, however, seemed entirely unbothered by the minor flaw. "Pfft, a single miss? Hardly a concern, darling! With practice, you’ll be hitting your marks every time."

Turning to you, Illumi continued, "Your knife work is satisfactory, though perhaps a bit flashy for our purposes. We prefer subtlety and efficiency in our assassins."

He paused, studying you intently. "Overall, you demonstrate potential, but you still lack the polish and discipline required for our organization."

You listen to Illumi's critique, a small part of you stung by the criticism, but you push that aside, focusing on his words of guidance instead.

"Okay." You nodded. His cold, enigmatic demeanor makes you so aware of your surroundings.

Illumi's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he nodded curtly. "Very well. We'll continue your training tomorrow. For now, rest and prepare yourself mentally for the challenges ahead."

With that, he turned and wanting to leave, leaving you alone with Hisoka. The latter grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don’t worry about old Illi’s harsh words, sweetheart. He’s just trying to whip you into shape."

Hisoka sauntered closer, his presence overwhelming in its intensity. "I, on the otherhand, think you’re perfect just the way you are. Though I do hope you’ll indulge me in a few... extracurricular activities tonight."

He leaned in, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "I have a feeling you’d look stunning drenched in blood."

With that, Illumi shot Hisoka a glare, making him leave. Hisoka already knows that his friend Illumi is interested in you, but he doesn’t say it directly. Illumi doesn’t understand why he’s drawn to you—the cold, calculating, and emotionless man on the surface. He can’t help but make you squirm and tease you in his own way, but he mostly focuses on the mission ahead.

Illumi’s glare held a clear warning, and Hisoka knew better than to push furtyour. With a playful smirk, he bowed mockingly before turning on his heel and departing, leaving you alone once more with the enigmatic assassin leader.

Illumi returned his attention to you, his expression unreadable. "Tomorrow, we will focus on strategic thinking and adaptability. Be prepared to face unpredictable scenarios."

Without another word, he dismissed you, his actions as abrupt as they were efficient. As you exited the training room, you couldn't shake the sensation that Illumi's interest in you went beyond mere professionalism—but the cryptic nature of their interactions left you unsure how to interpret his intentions.

Later that night, Illumi entered your quarters without awaiting an invitation, his usual composed façade slipping for the briefest moment as he took in your appearance. The fleeting flash of desire in his eyes earlier seemed to intensify in this intimate setting, and despite his attempts to suppress it, he couldn’t ignore the pull.

"I trust you're resting adequately," he stated, his voice low and measured. "Tomorrow, we'll be engaging in close-quarters combat drills. Your agility serves you well, but you must learn to harness your strength more effectively."

As he spoke, Illumi’s gaze roamed over your form, lingering just a moment longer than necessary, his eyes tracing the curves of your body beneath your attire. The air between you thickened, heavy with an unspoken tension. It was a strange feeling, as though his usually tight control was slipping—something more primal simmered beneath the surface.

"Remember," his voice trailed off, his eyes still lingering on you as he tried to steady his breath. You can practically feel the heat radiating from his body as he stands closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space.

You swallow, trying to maintain composure under his intense gaze. His voice is cold and calculated, but you can’t ignore the thrill that runs through you at the sound of it. You nod, acknowledging his instructions about the upcoming training session.

The air between you both feels electric, charged with something neityour of you can fully control. As Illumi draws closer, his proximity seems to suffocate you, making it harder to breathe. Your senses heighten as he stands just a little too close, a small distance remaining between you—but not enough to ignore the intensity of his presence.

Illumi’s internal struggle was evident. His disciplined assassin’s mind was still sharp, but it was no match for the growing pull of his desires. He had been raised to control everything, to compartmentalize every part of himself—sexuality included. Yet, for some reason, you seemed to be different. This thought frustrated him; he couldn’t allow such feelings to complicate matters. But even as he thought this, his body betrayed him.

Illumi’s gaze darkened as his fingers tightened at his sides. He clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain control.

"Illumi...?" You look at him, hating yourself for the way your body seems to lean toward him. His presence is consuming, and despite your attempts to fight it, you find yourself wanting him closer.

Illumi’s resolve cracked under the weight of his desires, his stoic mask slipping away. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he closed the space between you, his hands reaching out to pull you flush against his hardened body. His touch was rough, possessive.

"You should not intrigue me so," he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. "It complicates things unnecessarily."

But despite his words, his hands remained on you, his fingers pressing possessively into your waist, his body hard against yours. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable, an animalistic hunger he could no longer suppress.

Your breath caught in your throat as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly against his muscular frame. The danger he embodies is palpable, but it only draws you closer, your body betraying your better judgment. You can feel the pulse of his heartbeat, the heat radiating from him, and yet, you can’t pull away.

His words, laced with frustration and desire, hung heavy in the air. You can sense the internal battle he’s fighting, the need to keep control clashing with something far more primal. You can practically feel the tension between you, the undeniable pull that neityour of you wants to acknowledge.

"I could say the same thing," you whisper, your voice barely audible, yet the words seem to carry a weight of their own.

Illumi’s grip tightened on you, his thumbs brushing along the sensitive skin of your lower back as he ground his body against yours. "Then perhaps we should indulge in these... complications," he purred, his voice dripping with dark promise.

With swift, practiced movements, he spun you around, pinning you against the wall. His lips crashed onto yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, claiming you with a ferocity that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every inch of you as though he couldn’t get enough.

The intensity of his passion overwhelmed you, leaving you gasping for air. You clung to him, returning his kiss with equal desperation, lost in the whirlwind of sensations, pleasure, and danger that only he could provide.

You gasp as Illumi’s kiss deepens, his dominance taking over as he pulls you closer, his movements quick and forceful. The danger and excitement mix within you, the fear of what might happen next blending with a yearning you can’t deny.

His skilled tongue dances with yours, igniting a fire within you that spreads throughout your entire being, you moan softly into the kiss, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations. Ilumi's hands explore your body with a hunger that mirrors your own, leaving trails of tingling pleasure in their wake, you arch into his touch, craving more of his intoxicating caresses.

Illumi's lips left yours, trailing scorching kisses along your jawline and down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he nipped and sucked at the tender flesh.

One hand slid beneath your shirt, palming the soft mound of your breast as he continued his assault on your senses. His thumb flicked over your nipple, coaxing it to peak before pinching gently, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

"We shouldn't rush this," Illumi breathed, his hot exhalation fanning across your damp skin. "But I fear my restraint is wearing thin." His fingers deftly unfastened your pants, sliding inside to stroke the slick heat of your core. "Tell me to stop, if you dare."

You barely register the sound of your pants being undone until his fingers slip inside, stroking your already drenched folds, making your knees buckle slightly, you can believe this the composed assassin Illumi you know, but you can’t help but feel aroused by him/

Illumi's fingers delved deeper, curling inside you to stroke your inner walls with a practiced ease that belied his typically reserved nature, his voice a low rumble filled with dark satisfaction. "Your body knows exactly what it craves, doesn't it?"

As he spoke, he added a second finger, stretching and filling your with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The wet sounds of their intimacy mingled with your ragged breathing, creating a lewd symphony that only served to fuel Illumi's desire. Though Illumi was never one for excessive words, but in this moment, he can’t help, his voice brough

"You should see yourself now," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours as he worked your tighter. "So compliant, so eager for more. It's almost...beautiful." With a sudden twist of his wrist, he found that secret spot deep within your, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You cry out, unable to contain the intense pleasure, your back arches. The way he is so talkative, speaks so confident, so hynoptic, sends a thrill through you, even as a part of you wonders how he can be so bold, so unashamed of his desires.

“Illumi…” you gasp as you grind further on you his hand.

"Yes?" Illumi purred, his fingers never ceasing their relentless pace as he sought to unravel you completely. "What is it you desire, little assassin? Speak, and I might grant your request."

He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Perhaps you’d prefer to break under my control, against the wall, with nothing but the sound of how you crumble to my mercy?" You gasp at his filthy words, your eyes widen of this part of him, almost possessive.

Illumi's free hand slid up your side, his palm sizzling against your overheated skin as he cupped your breast, kneading the soft flesh roughly. "Or maybe you yearn for something more...depraved?" His thumb circled your nipple, tugging it into a tight peak that sent jolts of electricity straight to your clit.

Your breath hitches as Illumi’s words paint vivid images in your mind, each one more tantalizing than the last, his touch is addicitive, possesive, every caress igniting a fresh wave of desire within you, making you tremble.

Illumi's fingers picked up speed, plunging in and out of your quivering channel with a ruthless precision that bordered on violent, he groaned "I wonder how many times I could make you cum before you collapse from exhaustion."

He grind on your behind, bitting down on your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, as his other hand slipped beneath your shirt once more. His nails scraped across your ribs, leaving red welts in their wake, before he reached your breasts. Rough palms squeezed and kneaded the supple mounds, tweaking your nipples into stiff peaks that throbbed in time with the pounding of your heart.

"Illumi, please... "you manage to gasp out, your voice barely above a whimper.

"Yes, what?" Illumi demanded, his tone sharp with impatience. "Speak clear, Y/N"

His fingers curled inside your, rubbing that sweet spot with a maddening persistence. "Do you want me to fuck you harder? Deeper? Make you scream my name until your throat is raw?"

His fingers plunge deeper, faster, the brutal rhythm threatening to consume you whole. you can feel the coil of tension building within, making you close to your climax.

You start screaming, feeling how your orgasm wash over you and with a swift movement, not letting you relax, he spun you around making you gasp, pressing your back against the cold metal of the wall, the rough surface provides a stark contrast to the heated, intimate contact of his body pressed against yours as you gasp. One hand gripped your hip, holding your steady as the other fumbled with his belt, freeing his throbbing erection.

"I’ve decided I’m going to take what I want. Now," his tone sharp, positioning himself at your entrance.

His words are filthy, depraved, and they only serve to stoke the flames of your arousal higher, you can feel his hardness prodding at your entrance, a thick, pulsating promise of the pleasure to come.

“Yes, Illumi, fuck…please“ you admit breathlessly, your resolve crumbling under his touch and words.

With a feral snarl, Illumi surged forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. You cried out, your back arching as you felt him stretch your open, the sensation bordering on pain but suffused with overwhelming pleasure.

“So willing” Illumi hissed, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm. "This is what you needed, isn't it? I want to hear you admit it.”

“Yes…” You nodd desperately, feeling so intense and trembeling.

“Good. “" He leaned in close, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, his hot breath mingling with yours. "And I'm going to give it to you over and over again, until you're begging for mercy."

A strangled moan escapes your lips as Ilumi fills you completely, the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your entire being.

Each forceful thrust drives you closer to the edge, the friction of his hard length against your sensitive inner walls pushing you towards a precipice from which there's no return.

“yes.. Iillumi please, “you pant out, your voice a broken, pleading thing as you lose yourself in the relentless pace of his hips.

"Please what,Y/N?" Illumi taunted, his start gripping your throat slightly, moving your head towards him, as he drove into your with renewed vigor. "Tell me what you need, what filthy things you want me to do to you."

He captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue dominated yours. At the same time, his fingers found your clit, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud with merciless precision.

"Come," he commanded, breaking the kiss to nip at your jawline.  As if in response to his words, your orgasm crashed over your like a tidal wave, ripping your apart and rebuilding your anew in its aftermath. You screamed his name, your voice echoing off the walls as your pussy clamped down on his shaf.

Your mind goes blank as the intense waves of pleasure wash over you, Ilumi's relentless stimulation pushing you past the point of no return.

Your screams mingle with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, the obscene squelch of your arousal coating his cock as he continues to pound into you even as you come undone.

Ilumi's command hangs in the air, a dark challenge that only serves to heighten your awareness  of his own impending climax, you can feel him twitching inside you, his grip on your hips becoming almost painful as he struggles to hold back and you push into him more so you can help him.

With a guttural roar, Illumi buried himself to the hilt one final time, his cock pulsing as he unleashed a torrent of hot seed deep within your spasming depths. Each powerful spurt seemed to go on forever, painting your insides with his essence until you are filled to bursting.

As the aftershocks of your shared climax subsided, Illumi slowly withdrew, his softening member slipping free of your abused hole with a wet pop. A trail of cum dripped down your thigh, a visible testament to the thorough breeding you just received.

"Well, that was satisfying," Illumi murmured, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he admired his handiwork.

His sharp eyes studied you for a moment, his stance unwavering. "You’re in no condition to keep standing like this."

Before you could spleak, he moved swiftly, placing a firm hand at your back to guide you toward the bed. His touch, though not gentle, was steady and unyielding. "Lie down," he commanded, his voice a low murmur.

You feel utterly exhausted, your body spent, yet vulnerable—vulnerable in a way you never thought you would be with a Zoldyck. The fear lingers that it was just a fleeting, intimate moment for him, and you long for the comfort of aftercare. You're conflicted, unable to predict his next reaction, fully aware of his cold, enigmatic, and stoic nature.

You look at him, unable to control the vulnerability in your expression. You can’t help but wonder, despite his personality and history, if you’ve become important to him—though it doesn't show on the surface.

Illumi’s gaze softened, if only for a heartbeat, as he took in your vulnerable expression. It was the briefest of cracks in his otyourwise impenetrable facade—a fleeting flicker of something raw, something human beneath his usual cold exterior.

Without a word, his fingers brushed over the marks on your neck, a touch so delicate it almost felt alien—so different from the relentless passion they had just shared. The contact was soft, almost tentative, sending a shiver through you, who couldn’t help but feel the weight of this quiet intimacy.

But just as quickly as it had appeared, the tenderness faded, replaced once more by his usual aloofness. "Get dressed," he said sharply, his voice regaining its customary chill. With his usual precision, he began to gatyour his discarded clothes, a stoic figure once more. "We have matters to attend to."

Your heart skips a beat at the brief, unexpected softness in his eyes—a connection so fleeting, so fragile, that it leaves you aching for more. But the moment evaporates as swiftly as it came, and you’re left questioning if it was ever truly there or just a brief illusion, a crack in the facade that closed too soon.

Can… you stay a little longer? you ask, a quiet uncertainty in your voice, hesitant of how he’ll respond.

Illumi freezes for a moment at your request, his assassin’s discipline momentarily faltering. The connection between you is something unfamiliar, something he hasn’t had to process before. His mind is caught between his hardened, emotionally detached instincts and the surprising intensity of the bond you're offering.

Illumi paused, his hand hovering just above his shirt as he considered your words. The room grew heavy with the tension of his contemplation. Finally, without a word, he sat down on the bed, his posture rigid, but not dismissive. He was clearly weighing something—something beyond his control.

"You want me to stay," he said flatly, his voice cold but with a slight edge of curiosity. His eyes never left yours. "Is that because you enjoyed our...interlude? Or is it something else entirely?"

There was a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze, a brief crack in his impassive exterior that he quickly masked. It was evident that You’s unexpected emotional intimacy had caught him off guard, forcing him to confront feelings and desires that he had never fully acknowledged before.

Your heart races as you watch Illumi sit, his presence overwhelming, as always, but now more than ever, it pulls you in despite the tension between you. His words cut through you, making your emotions feel more tangled, and you realize just how much you’ve invested in this moment—how much you’ve allowed yourself to feel.

"Yes... and no, " you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper, stepping closer, but still unsure.

You reach out, pausing, as if to test the waters, before carefully placing your hand on his knee. A quiet hope stirs within you—that this small touch, this tentative gesture, might offer the reassurance both of you are craving.

Illumi’s muscles stiffen at your touch, a sharp breath escaping his lips as your fingers make contact. For a long moment, he doesn’t move, just staring at where your hand rests on his knee, as though trying to process the strange new feelings this simple connection stirs within him.

Slowly, cautiously, he places his hand over yours. His touch is deliberate, firm, and warm, but there’s a hesitation in it—a carefulness that reflects how much he’s struggling with the emotions that you’ve brought to the surface. "I see," he says quietly, his voice low, but there’s a shift in it. "In that case, I suppose I can spare a few more minutes."

Illumi stands, his hand hovering briefly before he reaches for you. When he pulls you into his arms, the gesture is stiff, almost as if he’s testing how to navigate this unfamiliar territory. His arms wrap around you, but the embrace feels tentative, as though he’s still unsure of what to do with the warmth he’s suddenly feeling.

In the stillness of that moment, Illumi’s heart races in his chest, the thundering beat a stark contrast to the icy calm he’s always projected, betraying the chaos he’s desperately trying to suppress.

As Illumi pulls you into his arms, a sense of calm washes over you. His warmth is solid and grounding, a stark contrast to the heat and chaos of your previous encounter. You rest your head against his shoulder, savoring the closeness—the simple, quiet connection that feels like it might be more than just physical.

Though your emotions swirl within you, you keep them in check, not wanting to overwhelm him. Instead, you focus on the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soothing sound of his heartbeat that seems to anchor you both in this rare moment of peace.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your own heart.

Illumi’s arms tightened around you, holding you tight. The soft pressure of his body against yours was a sensation he hadn’t known before, and it both unsettled and captivated him.

"For what, exactly?" Illumi asks, his voice cool, but with a subtle hint of curiosity. "I'm not used to such gestures. Explain to me, why do you feel the need for this?"

But even as he spoke, Illumi didn’t pull away. Instead, his body stiffened for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing your temple in a brief, but telling gesture. It was a small act, a flicker of something he rarely allowed himself to show—soft, but unmistakably affectionate. It wasn’t much, but in that fleeting touch, something subtly shifted between them, a crack in the ice that had always surrounded him.

The press of his lips against your temple sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. The tenderness of the gesture, despite his usual stoicism, made you ache for more. You leaned into him, feeling a warmth spread through you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to savor the intimacy that had quietly bloomed between you, fragile but undeniably real.

"For being here," you reply softly, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "For trying, even if it’s not something you're used to."

"Don’t get used to this," he murmurs, his tone strangely quiet, almost as if he's speaking to himself, not wanting to admit the slight shift inside him.

Illumi’s grip on you relaxed just slightly, his thumb stroking gentle circles on your back. Your words, simple as they were, had touched something within him. "Trying," he muttered, his brow furrowing slightly. "Perhaps that's an understatement for what we’ve done. But with you… it feels different. Necessary, almost."

He trailed off, his words unspoken, but the emotion behind them clear. Illumi was used to being distant, to keeping his feelings locked away. But with you, that wall had started to crumble—piece by piece, allowing something deeper to emerge.

Your heart swells at Illumi’s honesty, his words a raw admission that makes you feel even more connected to him. You press yourself closer, wanting to bridge the emotional gap between you, to share in the understanding that seems to be growing between you both.

"I feel the same, Illumi," you whisper, your voice sincere and filled with unspoken understanding.

Illumi's breath caught in his throat at your words. The sincerity in your voice reverberated through him, stirring something deep he wasn't prepared for. For years, he'd hardened himself against the idea of emotional connections—intimacy had always been something distant, too complicated to allow. But with you, the tension was palpable, like something he couldn’t push away, something he wasn’t sure how to control.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was gentle, but with an intensity that spoke volumes. It was a stark contrast to the fierceness of their earlier encounter, but somehow, it felt more consuming—this kiss was softer, but it lingered with a weight he couldn’t ignore. It felt different, like a shift, like something he couldn't quite put into words.

As the kiss deepened, Illumi became painfully aware of every touch—your body pressed against his, the softness of your skin, the way your breath matched his, shallow but steady. Every movement seemed to pull him in deeper, and for once, Illumi couldn't escape it. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed him, but it was a feeling he found himself craving—something he hadn't realized he'd been missing until now.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Sedated

Adam x Reader

TW: Pervy Adam, Guardian Angels, Reader unknowingly being watched, Self-touch, masturbation, Desires, obsession, clumsy ass reader

How we ended up here was beyond either of our wildest dreams. Adam had fallen from grace, desperate to prove his worth and reclaim his place in heaven. The added bonus of watching over you—a strikingly mundane mortal—was just a silver lining to his celestial punishment. For you, however, life felt like an endless loop of monotony, each day blending into the next in a haze of dull routines. 

In the mortal realm, chaos reigned, and you secretly blamed Lucifer for the mess. But today wasn’t about the cosmic battles of good and evil; it was about dragging yourself through another tedious nine-to-five, chained to the soul-sucking machinery of corporate America. After work, you’d immerse yourself in true crime documentaries, the only thrill in your otherwise drab existence, before collapsing into bed to muster the energy for another day.

Adam’s fall from grace had been ironic—a small, devilish woman had orchestrated his demise. Yet, the prospect of redemption as your guardian angel offered him a flicker of hope. He had vowed to keep you safe, ensuring that you remained blissfully unaware of the unseen chaos swirling around you. 

Yet you were no spark of entertainment; your life was a tedious boring cycle. You worked, ate, and binge-watched TV shows like every other soul on the planet. But beneath the surface, you harbored a darker side, a flicker of rebellion that emerged during your worst days. Perhaps that was why Adam had been assigned to you—there was little danger in your life, just a series of mundane tasks punctuated by occasional enjoyable nights.

On this particular day, fate had conspired against you. You had slept through your work alarm, and slept blissfully unaware of the fire alarm also blaring in your apartment complex. Adam, in a state of panic, had done everything possible to intervene without alerting anyone else. With a gentle but firm push, he nudged you out of bed, waking you in a daze. 

Draped in a sheer silk nightgown and a fluffy robe, you rushed downstairs, only to find the fire marshal casually informing you that it was just a tripped wire. As you and Adam exchanged simultaneous facepalms, he couldn’t help but marvel at your ability to sleep through the chaos—and his own lack of foresight in checking the building.

Once back in your apartment, the reality of your tardiness dawned on you. Groaning, you scrambled to get dressed. In Adam’s misguided attempt to help, he had placed your shoes near the door, leading you to trip and smack your head against the wall. With a growing bruise on your forehead and a now-lost security deposit, you bolted out the door.

The day continued its downward spiral. Your coffee was scalding hot, burning your tongue. A passing truck sent a wave of mud splattering across your clothes. The elevator in your office building was out of order, forcing you to climb nineteen flights of stairs in heels, your patience wearing thinner with each step.

Meanwhile, Adam was feeling the strain, too. He had never seen you in such a chaotic state, and while he had been tasked with keeping you safe, his interventions seemed to lead you into misfortune. When Jacob, your overly friendly coworker, got too close, you found yourself tumbling into Sarah’s lap, laughter erupting around you, the workplace gossip already brewing.

The copy machine malfunctioned, resulting in an ink explosion that painted you from head to toe. And when you attempted to sneak into the men’s bathroom—desperate for some privacy due to the womens bathroom being out of order—you ended up trapped as every male coworker seemed to have an urgent need. 

By the time you returned home, you needed a serious reset. A long shower and some quality "me time" were in order. As you prepared a quick meal, doom-scrolling through your phone, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift. After a quick tidy-up, you retreated to your room, pulling out your feel-good essentials.

Adam, watching from his hidden vantage point, felt a thrill of anticipation. He knew what was coming. As you slipped into the shower, an ethereal glow enveloped you, and he settled into the cozy corner of your room, entranced by the thought of what was soon to come. 

You emerged from the bathroom, a vision of perfection, your hair cascading around your shoulders. Adam’s breath hitched as you moved with an alluring grace, pulling out your toys with an enticing casualness that sent his heart racing. 

The moment you climbed into bed, he felt a primal urge wash over him. As you began to explore your own body, he mirrored your movements, his hand working in tandem with yours against his own body. Each sigh and moan that escaped your lips tugged at his very soul, igniting a deep yearning within him.

Taking his weeping cock in hand he sighed as he watched you lean back and run your hand across your body. He began soft slow strokes keeping in time with your touches and caresses.

As your hand dipped over your chest and down your stomach, feeling yourself, his breath hitched. He almost whined at the thought of burying his head in your heat. How sweet you must taste with how much of you was soaking your precious folds.

One hand of yours spread your folds open, displaying your pretty pink hole, while the other rubbed your pert nipples. He was in awe at how every time you did this, it was like he was watching you the first time. Like he was a child learning what sex really was. How could one person look so damn good doing something so sinful?

He sped up his pace on his cock as he watched your pretty fingers dive in. Oh, how he knew his length could reach places far deeper than those pretty little fingers. You struggled to attempt to touch where you needed relief, where he knew in a few languid strokes he could have you seeing stars.

As you moaned and panted, Adam could only imagine if it was him making those sounds come from you. If you were begging for him and whining out his name so softly. Gripping on his thick arms, bouncing with his pace, eyes crossed and overwhelmed.

He watched as minutes passed by, your fingers abused your tight hole and sensitive bud. He was eager to watch the next part unfold. As you turned on your toy, he watched your hole clench around nothing. A deep groan left him as he imagined that tight clench around his large length.

As you slowly rubbed the toy along yourself, making it nice and wet, he licked his lips, his red tip pulsing with the need for more than his hand. He wished for you to come over and blow him till your throat was sore or even just let him abuse your cunt. He desired nothing more than to not be a figment in your life but a passionate lover as he made you realize who you really belonged to.

However, as the toy slid in and you let out the softest more whorish moan, he was a goner. He was pounding his cock, whispering your name under his breath, hoping that maybe this would connect you two better. He was pussy whipped, and he hadn't even had the chance to physically take you yet.

If you could fuck yourself so good like this, you were definitely worth the first man's dick. He watched as the toy was slowly sucked into your greedy hole, and he was jerking into his hand. He wanted to keep up with your pace and learn exactly how you liked it; however, the languid bounce of your tits and heightened moans only made him lose control as he stroked his length harder.

You looked and sounded so beautiful, so amazingly hot and gorgeous. He wanted to be the one making you beg like this, not some silicone toy. However, as you built yourself up to climax, he also began to see white as he spilled over his large hand. A low groan of your name was barely heard by you.

Adam's thick white cum was covering his hand and robes as he looked at your pretty legs shake from your orgasm. He was whipped, to say the least, at this point. He stood resituating himself, what he would give for you to use that mouth to clean him up slowly.

At first, this may have started with him wanting to become an angel again, but now his goal is to get you to heaven with him so he can really show you a good time and let his name fall from your pretty lips. All he knew now, as time passed, was that he wouldn't be Sedated till he finally had you in his arms.

[francis-writes]

I’m extremely shy at making requests but I need more feyd x male reader in my life and I’m obsessed with lingerie and pierced nipples being involved so just take that as you will and I will love whatever you write. ❤️

A/N: hi, i hope it's good enough<3 i couldn't wait to write this request, especially since i got out of my depressive episode and I started another attempt to stay sober.

Includes: lingerie, nipple piercings, nipple clamps, ass fingering, handjob, amab anatomy, licking cum

(No proof-read so sorry for potential mistakes and autocorrect)

You didn't remember the last time you were dressed up like that in the bedroom - not that you or Feyd didn't enjoy revealing lingerie, it was rather the opposite... but with all the things going on on Arrakis and the greater than usually turmoil between Major Houses, you had much less time for properly pleasing each other or indulging in your passions. You could only enjoy quick fucking in breaks from his political duties (rest of the court didn't appreciate him leaving once in awhile, but they wouldn’t rather risk his threats) or tired sex when you could finally rest in your chamber at evening.

But now situation calmed down a bit. You knew that life would never be peaceful while living with heir to one of the most powerful - and perhaps the most hated - Houses. But you made your choice. And you still could count on days like this, when you could rest and have you only to each other.

You put a long black robe on yourself and entered the bedroom. Feyd already waited for you, laying stretched out on the bed, with his hand under his head. When he saw you, he sat up, staring at you with a smile.

"Are you going to stay in that robe for the whole night?" He asked teasingly.

You didn't reply and simply took off the robe, revealing what you wore underneath. Feyd looked at you with a mix of desire and surprise because you decided not to tell him about the outfit you planned.

You wore black pleaser shoes (at first you didn't feel that sure about trying such a high heel, but seeing effect in the mirror gave you more confidence), dark stockings pinned to lacy pants, and the last element was corset, ending right under your chest. You knew that sooner or later this corset will end up thrown on the floor, but you didn't want to cover your nipple piercings even for a moment. It was seemingly a simple detail, but you knew that it drew Feyd wild. Now he was eyeing you up with a clear excitement.

"Do we have any occasion today? Or did you just decide to provide me special entertainment?"

You walked to the bed, enjoying the sound of the heels clicking on the floor. From his smile, you could see that Feyd already enjoyed this evening without even touching you.

"Lets say that I just missed taking my time with you"

You sat on the bed and started caressing his leg, focusing especially on his inner thigh. You could notice that his breathing got heavier but he still controlled himself and kept observing you carefully as if he planned his next moves. Finally he reached out and grabbed your waist, just to pull you on his lap. You kneeled on the bed, with his legs between yours. His hands started wandering across your body - from your legs, ass, over your sides and to your shoulders.

"I almost feel bad about ruining this outfit"

You kissed his neck and sucked his skin, not caring if he's gonna have to cover the marks letter. When he gasped, you leaned back and smiled to him, just to add:

"With an emphasis on >almost<"

Feyd just smirked and pushed you, so you landed on your back. He crawled on top of you and pinned you to the bed with one hand, just to lean over and start kissing your nipples, suck on them and playing with piercings, using his tongue. At the same time, his other hand grabbed your thigh and tried to lift it. Almost absent-mindedly you followed his action and put that legs on his back. Without interrupting playing with your nipples, Feyd smiled to himself, enjoying your submission to his actions. He unfastened the stocking from your pants, revealing bare skin of your leg. Now his hand was caressing your thigh and squeezing the soft flesh. You gasped under the next sensations but still you waited for more; this night you wanted just to please him and to submit yourself to him completely. You would like to touch him as well and kiss his body but he was still pinning you to the bed. His grip wasn't too tight but getting up would stop his caresses and you didn't have strength of will required for this decision.

Feyd's hand slowly wandered lower, now grabbing your ass and squeezing it. You still kept your eyes half-lidded as you were enjoying the caresses, but then his hand slided under the material of the panties, he pressed his finger to your butthole and began massaging it. You moaned quietly and tried to put your legs in position that would give him better and easier access.

Feyd noticed your movement with amusement. He liked how obedient and easy to control you became in bed. Of course, there were times when he let you took charge (and he enjoyed it more than he expected before), but usually when you got aroused, all your self-restraints disappeared and he could use your body however he wanted.

He spat on his finger and continued massaging your butt, pressing a bit harder than before. You shivered slightly and let out another gasp. He loved pain and tortures (to be honest, he liked equally to give and receive them) but he liked as well more delicate moments, when you were just caressing and gently exploring each other’s bodies; he also always made sure you got your satisfaction, especially that seeing you writhe in pleasure just from his touches, pumped his ego (and other parts of his body).

He interrupted his actions to move back a bit and pull off your pants so they wouldn’t get in the way later.

You opened your eyes and looked at him. Feyd just smirked, noticing your interest.

"Don't worry, pet, I am not finished with you yet" he said with his low, raspy voice.

He reached to the drawer of your bedside cabinet (that actually served as a collection of the "everyday necessities", meaning some of the basic toys and devices that you liked to have close at hand) and took out nipple clamps connected with a chain. Feyd kneeled between your legs, put the clamps on your nipples and yanked the chain. You let out a short moan. You got used to pain a bit, thanks to your experiments with Feyd, but your nipples remained very sensitive and the clamps were tight.

He spat on his finger and this time he slided it inside. Not very deep at first, he started with small movements to make you relax and get used to the feeling. Before going further, he took your dick in his other hand and started jerking you off, this time going fast and hard without hesitation. You slightly arched your back and moaned louder than before, not expecting that sudden shift in stimulation. Especially that as you got more aroused, Feyd also started to finger your ass deeper and faster. Your legs twitched but you clenched your hands on the sheets, trying to stay in place. Despite your desire to last as long as possible, you could feel being close to the edge, so you gathered your strength to ask:

"Feyd... can I cum?"

He smiled and replied without interrupting his moves:

"Go on, tonight I won't stop your satisfaction"

Not long later, you tilted your heard back and gasped, as your whole body relaxed after final wave of pleasure. Your cum ran down your dick, covering Feyd's hand. He brought it to your mouth.

"Lick it off"

You obediently licked his hand and sucked on his fingers, making sure to left it completely clean. When you finished, you looked at him with a slight embarassment.

"I'm sorry that I didn't last longer-"

Before you said anything more, he grabbed your chin and kissed you. Then he looked at you with a smirk.

"Who said that we're finished? I still have to get my pleasure"

[puuuders]

In Pursuit of Something Better ~ Part 3

Ghost fanfiction

Previous | Next

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Yeah these parts probably won't be super long lol. Just how it seems to be working out.

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The ghouls receive their new uniforms. Gets heated.

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Read on AO3

1.4k words

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"You did not seem as pissed yesterday as you do now."

Omega scowled at Pebble, the shorter earth ghoul. He was conveniently stood beside Delta. Being protected by a bigger ghoul seemed to be the only time Pebble wanted to pipe up with something snarky to get under another ghoul's skin. He learned that from Delta, the water ghoul that Omega forced himself to withstand for the betterment of the pack. Omega's glare shifted to Delta, before he ultimately decided to ignore them altogether. He turned his attention back to examining their surroundings. The previous red fluorescent lights of this conference room had been replaced with purple, having to be overnight since no one had noticed anyone coming in and out. The decor was also different; high quality cashmere table clothes replaced the knitted covers that Secondo enjoyed, reason being unclear whether it was because it was cheap or he was truly into knitting.

The room was less crowded, minimalistic. There were two small, white pillows on either corner of the black couch that sat against the wall near the door, contrary to the dozen that Secondo had there. A fuzzy black carpet beneath their feet. A few lamps lining the walls. Alpha was especially relieved to see these changes. He could not stand the texture of velvet and wool that their previous Papa seemed to obsess over.

Alpha's tail instinctively intertwined with the quintessence ghoul stood next to him as the door on the other side of the room opened. They silenced their pointless bickering, straighting their backs and clasping their hands together behind their backs in unison. Absolutely conditioned.

However, the man who had promised to return was not necessarily a frightening figure in the moment. He was backwards, holding the door open with his foot, his compact figure covered from the waist up by the new uniforms that the ghouls eagerly awaited. He stepped backwards into the room, a barely audible grunt, and then he caught his robe on the heel of his shoe that he wore to appear at least a little taller. Terzo gasped and stumbled backwards, huffing in frustration as he caught himself and kicked his lengthy robe out from under his feet. Aero, the air ghoul, tilted his head curiously, and Delta grinned under his mask.

Terzo slapped the uniforms down on the table, two of the new metal masks clanking against the wood and dropping to the ground.

"Oh, fuck me." Terzo mumbled under his breath before looking up at the lined up ghouls, sighing and forcing a smile. "I do hope you like these. Made of gabadine, very strong. Very good to the eye."

Terzo lifted a mask, gently holding it in one hand, examining it like a Shakespearean, two fingers pressed to his painted chin.

"Resplendent, posh. You will no longer resemble a Hugo character. You will resemble - no, be - a ghoul of importance and class." Terzo looked towards the ghouls, smiling. For some reason he expected to see a reaction of excitement, but their expressions were hidden, their body language stoic. His smile faded, and he set the mask back on the table with an echoing ring. He pressed his palms together, holding his own hands. He stepped around the table, walking towards the ghouls that towered over him, their bright burning eyes intimidating him. He smiled curiously at each of them.

"Another ugly thing that will change for you is your room. I went in there today."

Alpha clenched his teeth, his tail squeezing Omega's at the confession. There was suddenly a thick fog of tension in the room.

"What is that you sleep on? Your own clothing? There are no beds. That is filthy, ghouls. You must get your own rooms."

With that, Terzo reached up into his robe. Alpha's head recoiled slightly at the sight of Terzos robe riding up, revealing his bare calves, the only evidence of any clothing beneath his robe being the fact that he pulled out 5 keys. Unless he was storing them in his prison pocket, he had to have been wearing shorts.

Terzo placed a key in each one of the ghouls massive hands, humming as he studied the appearance of their hands. Omega's were large and purple. Alpha's were almost glowing maroon and orange. Delta's blew, webs between his fingers. Pebble's were the smallest, beautiful vitiligo spreading across his gray and brown hands. Aero's were albino.

"You ghouls should know where the Siblings rooms are, yes? You do work for them. You are Siblings under my thumb. So you will be accommodated as such, so long as you perform your usual duties. That is fair, do you think?"

Terzo stopped in front of them, scanning them for any evidence of personality. His eyes stopped on Omega.

"Why are you so quiet now, witty one?"

Omega felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. His vocal cords vanished, his face heating up with embarrassment at being put on the spot. Alpha looked at him. Omega looked back at him. Silence.

Terzo sighed. "Do you do the thing again? Speak out loud."

"Thank you, Papa." Omega quickly spat out, simply wanting the attention off of him. Terzo hummed.

"You call me Terzo. We are friends, are we not?"

"I barely know you."

"Don't you want to know me?"

"Thank you, Terzo."

"Such a good boy you are."

Alpha whipped his head towards Terzo, disgust written on his face under his mask. Terzo shifted his attention to him.

"What about you, Alpha ghoul? Your friend says that you-"

"Papa!" Omega snapped, a guttural hiss that intensified the fog of tension. "Do not."

"Do not what?" Terzo grinned. He knew exactly what.

"Do not what?" Alpha repeated. His voice was gruff, but an obvious tone of emotion that Omega always failed to produce.

"Nothing." Omega glared at Alpha, speaking to him with his mind. Alpha ignored his internal pleas for silence.

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Why do you lie, Omega?" Terzo chimed. Omega felt a bubbling in his chest, his face burning with anger. Stay calm.

"You are lying." Alpha growled. Terzo studied their interaction intently. The crumbling of their facade.

"We will talk about this later." Omega barred his teeth.

"You are saying bad things about me."

"And you, small one!" Terzo had walked towards Pebble. Though he was the shortest ghoul, he still towered over Terzo. "Do you posess this rage that these two ghouls do?"

Delta's tail snaked around in front of Pebble. Terzo watched, following the blue up to Delta.

"You are protective! You are strong," Terzo was speaking to no one ghoul in particular anymore, "you have a passion that you hide. Why do you hide? Why do you want to be weak?"

Terzo was pacing back and forth, his voice raising, pumping his fist by his side. "Don't you want to be better than this? You want to be more than tools. You do the work, you play the instruments, you control the minds. Without you this ministry would be nothing! There are more of you, less of them!"

"Less of you," Delta hissed. "You want to start shit , then-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Omega roared. He stomped forward, shoving Alpha as he barged towards Delta. Delta growled, meeting Omega's force as Omega slammed his hands into his shoulders, shoving him into the wall and snapping his teeth at him. Alpha grabbed Omega, desperately trying to pull him back.

"Less of me!" Terzo shouted. Fueling the flame. "More of you, less of me! Take it out on me! Not each other! Ghouls!"

Omega was blinded by rage.

"Omega!"

He didn't realize he was stabbing his claws into Delta's larynx.

"OMEGA!"

Suddenly, he was tired. His muscles gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. His mask bounced off of his face. His vision blurred, his white pupils staring up at Terzo who held a familiar book in his hand, the one he had seen him studying yesterday in his office. He blinked, and his pack was surrounding Terzo, not attacking. Tails swishing low to the ground, masks thrown to the floor. He blinked again. Muffled, exhilarated chanting, something in Latin. Terzo knelt to the ground in front of him. Then, he fell asleep.

[delta-lethonomia]

Tried to narrow it to a few and was not successful: 8, 10, 13, 16, 17

8. see last post!

9. worst part of fanon

Hmm. This is actually pretty difficult, I feel like I'm only exposed to such a curated selection of fanon these days I completely miss all the wild takes. I will say that I don't think Astarion would necessarily do that much embroidery/sewing after the events of the game. I got the impression that a lot of it was because he needed to look attractive and put together, lacked the resources to acquire new things, and embroidering dumb things on his underwear was the only amount of bodily autonomy he could flex. He can't exactly dye his hair, cut it, or steal any jewelry without it getting stolen by the other spawn: he literally only has the clothes on his back, and they need to be kept in good condition if he wants any degree of success enticing higher class/presumably less violent and more attractive people back to Cazador.

If anything, I think post-bg3 he'd splurge and get himself nice things, holding onto fraying clothing for far too long but not repairing it. He can buy things now - but the urge to hoard it would still exist, while patching it might strike too close to old habits. He'd pick up the thread and think of something, but wouldn't be able to bring himself to embroider anything for himself. A partner though, yes, but not himself.

There's no need for a stamp across his ass if no one's going to see it anymore.

13. worst blorbofication

the bestest babygirl Astarion. Seriously. What the fuck. We've got Snape levels of delusion about this bitch. He's been "draco in leather pants'd" enough that it's flipped around entirely, because Astarion does actually wear leather pants, so instead he's heteronormative fantasy #142 where he's loving husband material, ready to have adorable dhampir babies and sweetly make love under the blankets of their 3-bedroom house with white picket fence while assuring tav/durge that's 100% ready to have missionary sex again with deep eye contact where maybe one of them gets to come, because it's fine, we don't need sex for emotional intimacy. ????

Astarion absolutely can be kind in a bitchy, understated way, but every time I see a thing where he's too nice I want to write a scene where he does something horrible or picks a fight. Let👏 him 👏 murder 👏

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

ok already answered BUT HAVE ANOTHER! (Actually have 2!) I don't like "Sweet, supportive Astarion" characterizations. I think no matter the trauma, his is always going to be worse, and even if he doesn't say it he's definitely thinking it. I don't think he'd be actively sweet, more… deliberately not being an asshole, at best. Crying about your mum dying? He'll let you cry on his shoulder, give a sentence of comfort, then change the conversation. Very stiff upper lip - "Must be talk about this?"

Wait ok I just thought of the actual controversial take. I don't get the obsession with putting Astarion in dresses. He's beautiful, yes, but there are a lot of handsome men in fiction, but Astarion especially get put into dresses a lot. Is it because of the wavemother robes??? Did that unlock something in people??? Is it because he comes across as gay sometimes, so therefor let's put him in women's clothing, because crossdressing stereotypes? Putting any man in a dress is subversive, I get that, I just don't get what about Astarion makes people so feral for it. Skimpy clothing, yes, but the heels and dresses. why.

It makes me think of nail polish on men these days. I get the impression it's a certain flavor of liberal man who wears nail polish as a subversive act, trying to show that feminine things aren't lesser, that they're not ashamed of wearing them, but Astarion's absolutely a rather conservative character politically. Like… babygirl's voting Tory/Republican, if he's voting at all. Sorry.

Maybe I'm thinking too deeply about this lol. But for real - he's a very masculine-coded character. He cries once, and that's an overwhelming cathartic release after centuries of pain. He's assertive in sex scenes. Even though he sounds like he's close to tears sometimes, he pushes past emotional things very quickly, is driven by a need for freedom, to provide for the player and be powerful enough for the both of them, to keep them safe, has a drive for power that's frightening, and will throw down if it comes down to it. He threatens you if you tell him no about sharing the tadpoles, even after sleeping together. His shoulders are much broader than you think. He's very, very masculine, both in body and values, he just also happens to be a flirt and has had trauma and submission beaten into him. In elf terms, he's the chaddest chad to ever chad.

He would also fold one leg over the other at the knee while sitting on a stool that gives stereotypical "gay" vibes, but I can also see him manspreading all over the place. But I just don't see fanart of Astarion manspreading with a prominent bulge the same way I see dress fanart everywhere. I feel like I just don't get the appeal enough to unpick this!

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

Crushing Ascended Astarion into the dirt. I'm so, so glad Larian added that option to take control of him after becoming the Absolute - he doesn't see it coming at all, and it's so good. I just want to see AA as far away from power as possible, struggling with himself, and maybe regretting the Ascension and all that he lost. I don't think AA is completely hopeless - he's still Astarion, just dumber, more arrogant, more scared and out of touch with himself, with all those emotional walls snapped back into place all the harder - but that just makes me want to crack him like an egg.

Oh, or fics/art where Tav/Durge left him instead of becoming his spawn. He lets them leave, but I don't think he ever gets over it, and it's his last little shred of goodness/arrogance/self-pity that prevents him from taking them back forcefully. Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth by howlsmovinglibrary is obviously the best example of this and can't be topped, but I want more cakes!!! Not of "darkly seductive vampire lord Astarion seducing an old flame back to his side" cake, but of "disaster AA embarrasses himself by becoming more pathetic over an obsession he just can't shake." The higher they rise, the harder they fall.

He just wants to be loved unquestionably despite thinking of himself as a proven monster and therefore unlovable

[sinnaea]

Krauser/You RE fanfic, page one rough draft, Fem! reader

Oops! I thought I was done writing about Krauser but he's becoming my current obsession. My brain has been firing on all pistons and coming up with all kinds of HCs. I want to explore what kind of a man he may be when he's off duty...

Summary You’re a dancer at a distinguished gentlemen’s club and your most loyal and favorite customer has arrived. You haven’t seen him in months and he asks you for a special request before he leaves again on one last mission. (Pre-RE4R)

Saturday nights always draw a more boisterous crowd. The gentlemen’s club never felt unsafe and you know there are worse places to dance at. You’ve been there before. After dancing and entertaining here for a couple years, you became spoiled by the upscale establishment, security and elite clientele. Yet, you never look forward to the crowd on Saturday nights. The money is good enough and you need it. So, you always give it your all.

You sit at your vanity along with the other dancers and entertainers in a large dressing room. A plush robe keeps you warm and comfortable for the time being as you lay out all your cosmetics. When suddenly, one of the booking assistants calls to you from behind. You turn and listen as your brush your long locks.

“You’ve been booked in lounge number four,” they inform.

A hefty weight lifts from your shoulders and you sigh in relief. A private booking means you can get away from the general crowd for while.

“What time?” you ask casually. “And how long?”

“As soon as you start,” the assistant answers, “and it’s for the entire night.”

You pause but perk up. A soft exhale escapes your nose as your lips pucker into a small smile. A nervousness tickles within you but slowly charges you with giddiness. You set your brush down on the vanity.

“Is it who I think it is?��� you ask hopeful.

The assistant winks and chuckles. “You already know.”

You return to your vanity and diligently prepare yourself they way your favorite customer likes. It has been a few months since you last saw him which is not entirely unusual given he works for the government in the military. But you still remember all the things he prefers. Remembering your clients’ likes and dislikes are part of your job after all. It’s what keeps them coming back to you, especially him.

He has an eye for elegance yet practicality. That lace bralette and thong with the garter belt you put on always left a permanent smile on his face. Purple and black are his colors of choice so you paint your eyes dreamy and smoky with those. He also loves the way the loose curls of your hair swirls around your body when you dance for him. And whenever you draw close, you can tell by his silent inhale he loves that rose and vanilla perfume you wear. It’s what prompted him to give you the pet name “Rosy.”

The private lounge rooms are like a completely different world compared to the main area. They’re fully equipped with alcohol and cigars for you to serve to your client. The furnishings are much more lavish and well maintained. The lights are more dim and soft yet focused on only you and your client. It’s quieter and intimate.

There is a separate entrance for you into the private lounge and you stand behind the door with a few butterflies in your stomach and a confident smirk on your face. You straighten your posture, raise up your chin and puff up your locks. Taking in a relaxed breath, you turn the knob and enter the room.

It’s silent all for the clicking of your heels on the dark laminate floor. There’s a subtle haze in the air and you smell the slight spice and wood from a burning cigar. He’s already made himself comfortable which makes you chuckle internally. You walk into a more focused light next to a silver dance pole and you can barely make out the outline of his body sitting on a leather chair in the shadow in front of you. You still know it’s him.

You wrap an arm up and around the silver pole like a crawling ivy, revealing your full figure and curves under the light. You lean forward, slightly pushing up your breasts and arching your low back, as you tantalizingly speak into the shadow.

“Been a long time, Soldier Boy.”

The creak of the leather couch sounds off as he leans forward and out of the shadow. His face comes into the light and you finally see him. That rugged yet handsome face that bore yet another scar from who knows what. He was dressed rather sharp in a black suit and tie. But it always made you giggle seeing his massive and muscular body barely contained in his clothes. The lit cigar dangles from his lip and he takes one last puff before setting it down. He runs a hand through his slick blonde hair as his scarred lips curl into a smile.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Rosy.”

You’ll never forget that voice. So rough and growly that you know hides something more gentle underneath that is Jack Krauser.

[kyokimidori]

Twisted Bonds

Good day everyone! @petralynnluna sent me a request on discord the other day (that I just saw this morning) about writing a Tomione in Abraxas's point of view. This turned into a full-fledged idea so I'm probably going to continue it. Let me know what you think!

~Kyoki

Being between the two of them was like being in the ocean, pulled multiple directions by a riptide. On one hand you had the power of the ocean’s waves, crashing down on you, wave after powerful wave pushing you down into its depths. The riptide however would grab ahold of your body, pulling you deeper and deeper into the sea, wanting you to drown, to be consumed by its power.

That was what it was like being in the middle of Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger. Tom the powerful ocean, beating you down, and Hermione the riptide, grabbing hold of you and pulling you deeper into her world.

It was tragic, it was exhausting, it was intoxicating, all at the same time.

Abraxas remembered the day that they first saw Hermione, standing outside the castle gates, clothes tattered, looking as if she had just run from the devil himself. It had been Tom that had gone to the gates, had alerted a professor, who had caught her as she collapsed in what they could only assume was exhaustion.

The situation had drawn Tom's attention to the girl, and had sparked his curiosity towards her. It was the next day, the day that Tom and himself had gone to visit the girl in the hospital wing that had started Tom’s obsession.

Abraxas remembered it like it was yesterday.

_______

Abraxas stood in the common room, next to the fire, waiting for his ‘friend’ Tom to appear from his dorm, waiting for his next order. It was the night before that Tom had seen a girl with riotous curls standing at the front gate, dressed in a blouse and pants that were unlike anything they had ever seen. She had been covered in dirt and grime, her robes torn and tattered. She was in a right state, her eyes wide, wand ready, as if she was ready to fight. 

“Are you alright?” Tom had asked, taking a step towards the girl “you look like you’ve been attacked”

“I have been.” the girl replied, her wand at the ready, pointed at them, seemingly thinking she was still in danger. 

“You’re safe now” Tom had supplied. “Abraxas, go and find a professor or the headmaster” it sounded like a request to anyone else, but Abraxas had known it was a command. 

He wasn’t sure what happened between the time that he went to get a professor, professor Dumbledore to be exact, a fact Tom would punish him for later. Whatever had happened the girl who had been so defensive had collapsed to the ground outside the gates, her wand fallen limply from her grasp. 

“Abraxas” the sound of his name on Tom’s lips had startled him out of the memory of the night before. Abraxas turned to the other boy.

“Have you heard any news about the girl?” Tom asked, seemingly bored, though Abraxas could sense a bit of curiosity from him. It wasn’t every day a girl their age appeared out of no where looking like she had just fought for her life. It was natural for Tom to be curious about her, Merlin, Abraxas was curious about her as well.

“No, I only know that she’s in the hospital wing,” he replied, watching as Tom nodded thoughtfully. 

“Come then” he had said, turning on his heel and heading to the entrance of the dungeons. Abraxas didn;t need to know where they were going, it seemed obvious to him. 

It hadn’t taken long for them to reach the hospital wing, to find it deserted, only one lone bed filled. The girl must have just gotten up from having passed out, for she was sitting in bed, looking confused. /pon hearing footsteps, her head snapped towards them and her wand was in her hand within seconds. She had raised her wand at them, for the second time, and abraxas couldn’t help but wonder what his master thought about that. 

Noone threatened Tom Riddle. 

No one, but his followers, thought he was threatening.

“You’re safe here” Tom said, his dark eyes watching her, taking her appearance in. They had left her in her tattered clothes, the girl still muddy from whatever adventures she had been apart of.

The girl slowly looked at them both, really taking them in before she slowly lowered her want “Draco” she looked at Abraxas confused “Why is your hair so long” she asked blinking at him “ where is you know who”

Abraxas looked at Tom, who was watching the girl, and he couldn’t help but wonder what Tom thought, that the girl completely ignored him and addressed Abraxas instead.

“My name is Abraxas, Abraxas Malfoy” he informed her pleasantly “I don’t know who Draco is or you know who.”

The girls mouth popped open before she shut it again. She looked between the two of them. “Malfoy” she repeated his surname as if puzzled. She turned her attention back to them “Whats the date?” she asked.

“September 2nd” Tom supplied, still watching the girl, his curiosity at its peak.

“The year. What’s the year?” she asked

“1944” Tom replied, and Abraxas cast his eyes towards him, for he could tell the question had piqued his interest. 

“50 years” she whispered looking down at her hands that still held her wand.  

“What’s your name?” Abraxas asked, taking a step towards her bedside. She shifted to look at him, really taking him in this time, her eyes shifting between himself and Tom. “Hermione, Hermione Granger”

“It’s nice to meet you Hermione, I’m Tom, Tom Riddle” he said, and abraxas watched as the girl’s eyes widened, staring at the hand that Tom had extended towards her, and watched as she refused to take it. 

Hermione had made two things very obvious. One was that she was from the future and the second was that she knew the name Tom Riddle. 

—

That had been the start of Tom Riddle’s obsession with Hermione Granger.

Dumbledore had come soon after to check on the girl ushering both boys from the hospital wing. Tom and Abraxas left without a fight, but Abraxas couldn;t help but look behind him at the girl, noticing the look of pure hatred and disgust on the girl's face. 

Hermione had been sorted that night, being sorted into Gryfindor of all places. Abraxas found himself surprised at that, but didn’t voice his opinion. Tom seemed to be disappointed in the fact she wasnt sorted to slytherin. It meant that she wasn’t easily accessible. 

It had been strange at first, to see someone actively avoid Tom like he was the plague. Normally girls were drawn to him, hung on his every word. Not Hermione Granger. And it wasn’t from lack of trying on Tom’s part. 

Abraxas on the other hand, had managed a tentative friendship with the girl. It had started easily enough, with potions class. Slughorn had paired the two of them up for an assignment. It had been awkward at first, the girl sending him looks, like she was seeing someone else from the corner of her eye. That was when he broke the silence between them, asking her who Draco was. To his surprise she told him that he was a bully from her old school. He asked her about her past, and she told him a little bit about her, how she had resided in France, how she and her friends had gotten in the way of some of Grindelwalds forces. That she had fled after her friends passed away, going to the only place she could think of that would be safe. Hogwarts.

It was an interesting story, and one he was inclined to believe, yet he had overheard her murmuring to herself about the year being fifty years different. She was either from the past or from the future, and As far as Tom was concerned, she was from the future. Abraxas had to agree, especially with how she treated the budding dark lord.

If Tom was nearby, Hermione would leave, not so much as sparing him a glance. It was fascinating to see, especially since she was so kind to others. It was Tom she seemed to hold a grudge against, even though it had been him that had helped her to begin with.

Watching Tom being rejected was both amusing and terrifying. If someone so much as mentioned Hermione, of talking to her, himself included, they found themselves on the wrong side of his wand. It was why Tom's followers steered away from Hermione, with the exception of Abraxas. The girl seemed to seek him out, even when he was trying to avoid her, a fact that did not escape Tom’s attention. 

It had been hard to convince his ‘friend’ that the attention was unwanted, unwarranted. And Abraxas had truly expected to be at the wrong end of the cruciatus curse. Yet to his surprise Tom had chuckled, and had encouraged him to spend time with Hermione. To find out her secrets, her real secrets, for he didn’t believe her backstory for a minute. 

That is what led him to today, an unexpected, unfortunate day that it was. 

It had been nearly 4 months since he had first met Hermione and the two of them had become closer, closer than he had truly expected. The girl tended to spend more time around him then she did with any of her other friends. It hadn’t been a surprise to him when the girl in question had asked him to go to Hogsmeade with her, hadn’t even been surprised by her holding his arm, that having become the norm months ago.

It was when they stood under a wild mistletoe, when she leaned up and kissed him, that he had become surprised, pulling away from her , glancing into the beautiful honey brown eyes.

“I'm sorry, I just…” Hermione started but Abraxas cut her off, leaning down and kissing her gently, surprised by his own actions, but also not really.

Hermione was beautiful in a wild way, charming when she wanted to be, wicked smart and kind. It was everything in a girl he could ever want. It was no surprise to him that he had developed feelings for the girl. No surprise that he enjoyed this kiss, even if it had taken him off guard. What had surprised him was the fact that she willingly kissed him, that she seemed to return the feelings he had been harbouring the last few months.

He wasn’t sure if the kiss lasted seconds or minutes, too caught up in the kiss to really notice anything other than her and her movements. He was keenly aware that she had wrapped her arms around his neck, had pressed her body against his own, her fingers entwining his long platinum hair. 

The kiss would have continued if it wasn't for the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow that interrupted them. Slowly they moved away from each other, and Hermione turned toward the sound of footsteps towards them.

He knew immediately who had interrupted them without having to look, the look of hatred that crossed Hermione's face making it all too evident. His  blood ran cold, wondering how long the other boy had been watching. Had he seen her kiss him first or just him snogging her. He looked at Tom, who seemed calm, though by the way he unconsciously twirled his wand in between his fingers, Abraxas was certain he was livid. 

“Alright Tom?”

Neither boy expected her to break the silence between them, both of them casting their eyes towards her. This was the first time that she has actually addressed him. 

“I’m fine,” Tom responded, watching them both. 

“Good” Hermione replied, taking Abraxas’s hand in her own, intertwining their fingers together “ We’lll see you later then” she said, pulling him back towards the castle, pasting Riddle.

As Abraxas passed by Tom, he felt Tom grasp his arm, stopping himself and in extension Hermione. “I’ll see you tonight Abraxas” the boy informed him, as if he was calmly going over plans that they had previously agreed on.

Dread filled his stomach and he started to respond but Hermione cut him off “ He has plans tonight, we are studying together in the library until curfew” she informed him. 

Again Tom looked at Hermione thoughtfully this time. He didn;t say anything, merely removed his hand from Abraxas’s arm and allowed them to leave.

It seemed Hermione had saved him from Tom’s wrath, at least for a moment, but Abraxas knew the truth, there really was no escape from Voldemort. 

He would pay, one way or another. 

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. ﹙ the bloodthirsty phantom. ﹚:  zhào hàoyŭ 9948v .𖹭 ݁

. . . he ate your heart !! 🍒 : “ would you sacrifice yourself to the blood puddles I leave across the city, if it meant I could be your last sight? ”

꒰ verse ꒱ 9948v

꒰ species ꒱ vengeful phantom. rhytaari

꒰ ethnicity ꒱ chinese

꒰ age ꒱ 25

꒰ gender ꒱ male

꒰ mbti ꒱ enfp

꒰ alias ꒱ the phantom, the third, the vengeful, voice beyond the grave, poltergeist

꒰ story ꒱ 

he clink of wind chimes in the dead of the night.

numerous ghostly whispers and malevolent giggles surrounding a looming darkness. colourless peering eyes stare at the array of scattered bodies. painting the ground like the edges of his white robes.

such is what haunts the city of elritea. the world of 9948v. a phantom is what they call him. sadistic and seeking blood wherever he roams. summoning spirits from far beyond the grave and feeding on their agony.

what’s his mission -

justice?

revenge?

perhaps it’s just malicious glee and a lust for carnage. the trail of needless massacres certainly point to it.

and all with a grin glued to his face. a rictus smile to match the horrors of pale, ghostly hands.

 

꒰ appearance ꒱

very long black hair that extends down to his feet and is often tied up in elaborate styles. such as buns or with jewellery

white eyes, with the faintest tint of red from bloody tears. sometimes they streak down his face. no pupils or sclera

pale, almost moon glowing skin, with deep red veins up his arms and jaw

pure white robes with softer and dustier reds covering it. often wears elaborate and elegant hanfus. has little wind chimes that hang from his robes — a warning sign of his appearance

long, black talon like nails shaped in coffin style

long black heels, with thorns on them

stands at the height of 6’9” with a slender figure

does not wear much jewellery, aside from a few dioxazine purple necklaces, and some ruby and silver chains

standard lobe piercings with two red orchids dangling from them, while the two upper lobe are silver studs with rubies

elongated tongue with rows of very sharp teeth, as white as the moon’s light

does not wear makeup but the red blood stained tearmarks and black lips make up for it. only wears eyeliner sometimes

always smiling, looks like he’s on the verge of a laughing fit.

 

꒰ personality ꒱

seems serene, is anything but. very loud, very chaotic.

a psychopathic maniac, no joke. an actual sociopath with not a hint of morality left

blood thirsty and murderous - an exceptionally sadistic man who gets a kick out of the violence and suffering that he induces

has quite the god complex

he is erratic and unpredictable, something that he prides himself on. he even surprises some of his fellow rhytaari

a deeply obsessive and possessive man. if he sees something that he desires, he wants it - and he will have it. no matter what it takes

a yandere by nature, a wholehearted one

extreme sense of justice towards otherworldly and enigma. a very violent and vengeful sense of justice

has a very morbid sense of humor, but can also genuienly be funny

very devoted, will worship the people who catch his eyes. however, this is extremely rare

despite his extremities, he is loving. he can be gentle. just cooperate

deep down, he’s still wanderlusting

 

꒰ with a lover ꒱

in contrast to his crazed self, well — he’s still crazy. less murderous with you, however.

he adores holding you close and pampering you. even if he’s covered in blood from his last murder spree. he’s a clingy and very touchstarved man.

extremely possessive of you and gets jealous very quick when he sees you interacting with someone who isn’t him and if that means keeping you in his estate to have you all to himself, he will.

he absolutely loves your laughter, he cannot get enough of it. and so he will do anything to make you laugh, watch you feel good. he could listen to it forever.

loves to dance you around in his garden. tipping you over and kissing you passionately. he is a cliche romantic. even if it seems shocking, he is.

while he does not eat himself, he does love to cook for you. it’s a love language of his, along with acts of service. anything that makes you happy and feel good, and gets you to stop crying after he’s been just a little erratic, will make him a happy rhytaari.

don’t try to run away darling. he can find you, nevermind where you run to. you’ll agitate him. you don’t want to agitate him, why would you do that to him? hasn’t he done enough for you? why don’t you just fucking love him?

late night walks throughout the hallways of his estate is a must, he loves to drag you to the bathrooms too and bathe you. help your muscles relax.

talk to him, it doesn’t matter what it is you wanna talk about, he wishes to hear you talk about your favorite drink, your favorite animal, your favorite topics. it calms him down, it calms you down too. for a moment, even if it is only for a day or an hour. you see him calm, almost a nicer version of himself.

worships you and the ground you walk on, it isn’t a joke when we say he treats you like a god. everything and every action you commit to will be admired greatly. praised. despite this, he also treats you like a living and breathing being. because he knows that you are.

surprisingly good at comforting once you get past at the fact that he laughs when he does. you soon learned he doesn’t laugh because he thinks anything is funny though.

oh if you are comfortable with it he would love to cover you up in blood with him. dance you around on the blood red streets he’s made for you. a dancefloor for only the two of you.

likes making bouquets for you, he will gather all of the flowers you like and puts them around the estate.

 

꒰ strengths ꒱

the rhykana: the magic that flows through all rhytaari and make them as powerful and as erratic as they are. this magic is ever growing and ever powerful, giving each rhytaari a spin on their signature and enhancing it to disastrous degrees

soul pulling: he is able to pull souls from the afterlife, from reapers and souls that have not passed on. he thus puppets these souls and turns them into his ‘phantoms’, turning them into vicious ghosts that induce havoc

resentment feeding: he practically feeds on resentment from around him

 

꒰ weaknesses ꒱

. . .

 

꒰ relationships ꒱

the maharaja: partner in crime? lover?

rishen herrera: enemy ( constantly chasing him )

 

꒰ extra ꒱

the maharaja: partner in crime? lover?

rishen herrera: enemy ( constantly chasing him )“dont contact your family members beyond the grave, you might speak to something you don’t exactly want to”

it is said that he dwell in an estate at the border of the city

he speaks chinese ( mandarin ) and english

he is known as the third most powerful and deadly rhytaari, apart of “the six”

he has a floating eye that scouts the city. it has no name.

[taeyongsfemdom]

A smile came upon your face as you stood in front of your large mirror in your bedroom, staring at yourself as you see one of your drivers pull up in the driveway, dropping off your angel after his trip to the grocery store, the front door opening and then closing as turned away from the mirror and headed downstairs.

"I'll be getting started on dinner soon, mistress!" taeyong said as he was putting the last bit of groceries away "been waiting on you to get home, sweetheart" your hands untying the white silk robe you had on, revealing your black lingerie set with a matching garter that hooked to your stockings. "Sorry if i was gone too-" his back pressed against the wall as he saw the black fabric cling to your curves and how the robe dropped to the floor along with a pink blush appearing on his cheeks while he was holding a box of rice crispy treats (they were his favorite)

"What's wrong little boy? Cat got your tounge?"

Ever since he started living with you, you knew that Taeyong was a virgin. You had developed an obsession with how bashful and quiet he would get around you, you were very experienced in the bedroom with men but there was something about inexperienced ones that set you on fire.

"You know what I've realized about you baby?" You got close to his ear & whispered "That you've never been with a woman, you haven't had the opportunity to be touched in places that's never been touched before, never understood what it's like to be wanted so badly" the lump in his throat moved as he gulped while looking at you, his heart looking like it was gonna bust out of his chest, your soft hands rubbing down his chest as the box of treats fell to the floor, your shoe kicking it off to the side"How about we skip dinner, so i can have you instead...see what's it's like to be with a real woman" your red manicured hand pulled his striped shirt collar as you pulled him to the living room, his back hitting the soft couch, fear appearing in his eyes as your high heel was sitting on his chest, his hands stuck to his sides while his breath slowed down as his eye was glued to the high heel. You knew how irresistible you were, everywhere you went you had men looking at you, most of them having girlfriends or wives.....you were that sexy. Taeyong was already attracted to you, but always kept it to himself and never got around to telling you how he feels, but it didn't take you long for you to realize that you were the woman of his dreams. The woman that he fucking needed and desired him the most besides those silly little girls who probably kisses their posters or the magazines they owned with his face on it, but you had the real thing at your mercy.

"U..u..um mistress, are you f..feeling alright?" His boba eyes staring at you as looked at him seductively while your lingerie clad body mounted his "I'm just fine my love, I'm just gonna indulge in you for a little bit" you winked at him as your red lips were about to kiss his before he managed to slide himself from under you, his shirt lifting up a little revealing his cute tummy "I..I u..uh need to g..go shower! I..I gotta c..cool off" you rolled your eyes as he slid away from you before looking at his crotch that had a visible bulge underneath along with the darkened blush on his face, his hand struggling to figure out whether to cover the boner or his face as he rushed upstairs, his head turning back to you as you stared him down evilly while grabbing a rose from the vase next to you, the sound of a door slamming making you laugh evilly with the rose touching your nose lightly.

"Run little rose run, you won't get away from me that easily....you're mine"

●Some random drabble that I did that was in my mind for a while 💋

[dndorkdoggo]

Slice of Life

Just a slice of life from the Eldritch Gays.

Callisto/Prophis (1180 words)

~~

Callisto was tired. He had sat through no less than ten meetings about restructuring Symetris and he was ready to just be home with his freshly married husband.

With an exhausted sigh, he teleports into their living room, expecting to see Prophis sitting in his armchair, but his husband is not even in the room.

The human does a quick scan of the room and sees Prophis' book lying on the seat, the bookmark several pages forward in the book, and an empty mug sitting on the side table. Callisto carefully picks up the mug and turns it over in his hands. It's a simple brown clay mug with poorly drawn flowers littering it and the mug itself is lopsided and poorly constructed. It would have been thrown out as trash, but this is Prophis' favorite mug.

Callisto smiles distantly as he thinks about the night that he made this mug with Prophis. It was far before the rift had happened and they had only just begun dating. The blond had the idea of doing a crafty date. Callisto was head-over-heels for Prophis and completely powerless to object -despite his general inability to do anything creative. He had made the mug -with Prophis' help, clearly- and had nervously given it to his then-boyfriend as a gift. He expected Prophis to put the ugly thing on a shelf, but it quickly became his favorite mug to drink anything from. Tea, coffee, water, never mattered to him.

After the Rift, it became Callisto's favorite mug, just as all of Prophis' favorite things became his favorites as well. His favorite mug became something for Callisto to drink from as he mourned his husband while he wore his husband's favorite shirt -which he hadn't taken off in days- and read his favorite book -a sappy romance that Callisto had never seen the appeal in but simply could not put it down even if it was his third read through.

He's pulled out of memory lane by the sound of muffled music. It's upbeat dance music that the man doesn't recognize as he follows the sound into the kitchen. Prophis, long white hair tied back in a messy bun, is dancing around the kitchen, singing, albeit poorly, along to the song.

The music is admittedly not Callisto's type, he prefers more classical-sounding music, but since Prophis' return, the elf's been obsessed with the more recent trends in music. He adores the upbeat nature of it and smiles every time any of the songs comes on.

Callisto notices that he must be cooking something as there are a number of ingredients scattered across the countertops and Prophis himself is dusted in flour and sugar and there appears to be chocolate streaked in his white hair.

The human watches from the doorway as his husband dances and spins, singing almost in key with the song. Somehow the Chaos God has yet to notice his husband as he returns to the oven and pulls out something that smells heavenly.

"Perfect!" Prophis says happily, hips still swinging side-to-side as he places it on the countertop. "Now I just need to taste-test the tea." Humming along to the music, Prophis blindly reaches for something to his left but finds nothing. He turns to look at the empty space and "hmphs" irritatedly as he starts to brush the powder off himself. "Must've left it in the living room- shit!" he yelps as he turns around and spots Callisto, dressed in his dark robes leaning against the doorway.

"Hello, love," Callisto says with a lopsided smile. "Did I scare you?"

The elf takes a moment to regain his composure before quickly and breathily saying, "Oh, just a little." He takes a deep breath, grounding himself, before walking over to his husband and giving him a kiss and melting into his arms. "How was work?"

"Awful, I don't think Doc breathed for the last two hours," Callisto laments as he holds onto Prophis, kissing his cheek before dropping his head to rest on Prophis' shoulder.

"Doc breathes?" Prophis counters feigning bewilderment.

Callisto pulls back and gives his husband a defeated look. "I'm beginning to question it."

Prophis barks a laugh. "I'm sorry, love," he comforts before his face lights up. "I made something for you!"

"Is it the thing you pulled out of the oven?" Callisto asks.

The elf stares at him for a moment before realization slowly dawns on his face. "How long were you standing there?" he asks slowly as the tips of his ears slowly turn pink.

"Long enough to see you dancing around the kitchen with chocolate in your hair," Callisto teases lovingly as he reaches up and wipes as much of the chocolatey goop up as he can. Prophis turns a brighter shade of red as the human pops the finger in his mouth. "It's quite good. What did you make?"

Prophis lights back up. "Oh, chocolate croissants!"

"Really now? Any reason why?" Callisto questions as he admires Prophis' smile, one of his favorite sights in all of Vontral and the eight realms.

"You had a long day of meetings and Doc ramblings," Prophis reasons, "And I know you like them."

Callisto smiles at his husband. "I certainly do like them, my dear."

Prophis kisses his cheek as he steps back. "I also made tea. I was going to taste-test it, but I left my mug in the other room."

"Do you mean this one?" Callisto holds out his husband's cup who stares at it for a moment before tentatively taking it from the human's hands.

"I still can't believe you kept this for seven hundred years," Prophis says quietly as he admires the subpar craftsmanship like it was handmade by the sculptors of old.

"It was your favorite, Gods know why, that thing is uglier than Glib, but it was still your favorite so I had to keep it for when you came back," Callisto explains easily and for the dozenth time since his husband has returned.

Prophis stares at the mug for another moment, turning it in his hands before looking up at the human with an amount of love that is not foreign to the elf's face, but nearly knocks him off his feet every time Callisto sees it. "I love it because the man I love made it for me."

They sit in a shared silence, both of them still, as if afraid any sudden movements would shatter the peace of it, only for the whistle of the kettle to startle them both.

Callisto glares at it as if it had murdered his family which only causes his husband to titter out a laugh.

"Tea's ready," Prophis says, walking swiftly over to take the pot off the eye and pouring the hot liquid into his mug, and getting another mug from the cabinet next to him and pouring some tea into it. "Here," he says as he hands the secondary cup to his husband.

"Thank you, my love," Callisto says as he takes the swiftly warming cup from Prophis.

"Anything for you," Prophis smiles.

[funkeyberry]

teen-a-day🥳 CAS challenge BY@dizzywhims

DAY19 Influencer /DAY20 Artist

DAY19 Influencer

:Tip your queen one Simoleon💋🤲～

Miss Peggita Shelly lives in 2022, but her inexpensive clothes and trinkets like the two-simoleon store always make people think that she lives in the last century. But she doesn't care about these, she is only 19, her followers love her. Since it is said to be outdated, then it is better to tag retro. Like her name, whether it's clams or shells or whatever, that's cheap, but she's still a beauty. /Tanner used to be a boy who hid himself under a head of tousled curly hair. At that time, he thought that he could avoid 60% of the troubles he experienced by showing a demeanor. Until a drag party night in the eleventh grade, when Garcino, who was wearing a choir robe and danced on the floor, pulled him on stage.Tanner felt that his tense nerves were gradually loosening, and the soul that had been watching for a long time was being released,returning to his body. There is nothing more joyful than dancing ecstatically. A year later, Tanner took on more than half of Rainbow Glitter's traffic share - in his simgram live broadcast room, in the name of a drag queen (the ghost knows how partial I am to this group(;￢_￢)

TANNER LOOK

💇🏼‍♂️HAIR@okruee/🩳SHORTS@trillyke

PEGGITA LOOK

💇🏼‍♀️HAIR Indigo(retiredcc)@simstrouble/👒HAT@rimings/🔗BOTTLE CAP EARRINGS@the-crypt-o-club/🌈CHOKER@saurusness/👠HEELS@shakeproductions

DAY20 Artist

:Ah…is it already afternoon😕

Waraque may not be that "artistic," but he sure lives like one. This may have something to do with his idol, Uncle Neil in "Art Simmack". The works are all small gadgets, such as garlands, signs, inkjet paintings, decorative paintings and party installations. He did most of the visual effects in the citadel of Rainbow Glitter. Waraque had logically acquired a workshop in their party warehouse, though Garcino called it a utility room. Waraque has a subtle obsession with cleanliness. Whether it is a workaholic or a decadent old smoker, you can tell by his white apron (condemn this blogger only knows to post scenes👊

🎨BERET@aharris00britney/⛓NECKLACE@pralinesims/🚬CIGARETTE@haneco410/🎈PATCHES FROM Chiyo Jacket Dress @trillyke/🖤Fright Night Tatoos@the-crypt-o-club/💎RINGS @natalia-auditore

AND thanks a lot to all the cc creators🤩!!!

if any linguistic mistake just blame theGoogle translate for All hhhhhh👻

[just-a-draco-girly]

The Secret - Chapter Eight

Nervously, I adjust the dark green chiffon material of my dress as I look at myself in the mirror. I let Charlotte do my makeup again which consists of dark smoky eye shadow and eyeliner with the pinky-nude coloured matte lipstick that I've come to grow fond of since Draco complimented me on it in Hogsmeade at the start of the year. My hair is held back in a plaited bun with a few curly tendrils falling lazily at the side of my face. I drop my eyes to my feet which are adorned with a silver pair of ballet flats. I somehow managed to avoid Charlie making me wear heels... again. A shaky sigh leaves my mouth when I turn to face Charlie, who is wearing a long, grey gown that is covered in sparkly gems and is sifting through her trunk to find her shoes.

"Charlie?" I call over, causing her to turn to me and nod in response. "I'm scared, I don't think I can do this..." I trail off, looking at my hands that are still playing with the soft skirt of my floor length dress. She sighs and moves over to my side, gently taking hold of my shoulders. I'm spun around and made to look in the mirror once more.

"Victoria, you are the most beautiful, smart, and witty girl I've ever met. I don't get what you see in an asshole like Malfoy..." She speaks, pausing when I glare at her in the mirror. "But he'd be lucky to have you. Any guy would for that matter" She adds, smiling sweetly at me as I continue to give her the stink eye.

If I am honest, despite her not liking Draco she has supported me completely through this whole ordeal. She understands that Draco has been my closest friend for a long while, and she knows who I'd pick if she tried to come between us. Draco. It's always been Draco since he accidentally kissed me when we were five years old. A small smile etches itself upon my face as I remember his little pale face turning the shade of a tomato.

"You're right. I shouldn't be nervous, I've known him my whole life" I speak, resolutely. Charlie pats my shoulder and grabs her clutch, passing me my own. Happily, we link arms and walk out of the dorm, heading down the stairs to the common room. We find her date, Thomas Witten, a fellow Ravenclaw from the year above us, waiting in a brown armchair by the portrait hole. He stands, straightening his jacket as we unlink our arms. Greeting us both, he gently takes Charlie's hand and I can see her dying inside. Thomas is quite the catch. Tall, dark haired and he's the captain of the house's Quidditch team. Youngest Quidditch captain in almost 200 years.  Most of the girls in Ravenclaw are obsessed with him.

But he's not my type.

Our trio leaves the common room and walk down the corridor. I awkwardly follow, feeling overwhelmingly like a third wheel. The feeling soon dissipates when we reach the top of the staircase that descends into the entrance hall. My eyes immediately land on Draco, who is wearing a black shirt and tie with black trousers and dress robes. His usually messy blonde hair is slicked back, but parted slightly. In short, he looks perfect. I smile widely and slowly descend the stairs. I can feel his eyes watching me the entire time.

"Hi" I say, nervously smiling, as I come to a halt in front of him. His eyes that were staring at me blink rapidly and he slowly shakes his head.

"Um, hey" Draco mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. "You look... st-stunning" He speaks, amazement evident in his voice. My cheeks burn brightly, hopefully being hidden by the makeup Charlie put on earlier. I nervously respond with a curt thank you, before hearing a loud shriek of anger that sounded like it could only have came from one Pansy Parkinson.

"Drakey-poo!" She shouts, marching across the hall with tears streaming down her overly done makeup. She looks like a mess (well more than usual). Draco groans, rolling his ice blue eyes as she nears us. She shoves me out of the way when she stands in front of Draco, almost standing on the hem of my dress. I stumble slightly. Draco gently places his arm around my waist to steady me, instinctively pulling me into his side.

"Yes, Parkinson?" He asks, sneering almost. Pansy's pug face drops at the use of her surname. She hopefully has realised that Draco doesn't like her and sadly saunters towards the stairs that lead down to the Dungeons. I feel a slight pang of guilt as I watch her go.

"Don't you think that was a bit mean, Draco?" I question, gazing up at his tall frame.

"I've tried everything else and she still didn't leave me alone" He sighs, resignation taking over him. I softly pat his shoulder in some form of comfort. His arm still clings to my waist, restricting my movement. But I don't care.

"Malfoy!" Potter's voice booms from the stairs, causing both Draco and I to groan in disgust and turn to the source of his voice.

"What do you want, Potter?" He demands, sounding exhausted already due to Pansy and now Potter confronting him. Potter saunters down the stairs with the sense of entitled arrogance that only he, the chosen one, has. I thought Draco was entitled and arrogant until I met Potter in first year.

"So you've actually got yourself a date apart from Parkinson?" He speaks, snidely. Draco grinds his teeth together, only calming down when I place a hand on his chest to stop him from attacking the boy who lived.

"Yeah, he does and at least he didn't get his last minute unlike you, Potter" I reply, snapping at Potter's smug face. He does a double take before retreating to Weaselbee on the other side of the now crowded entrance hall, muttering nonsense angrily under his breath. A quiet chuckle escapes Draco's pink lips. I turn to him with a look of confusion on my face. "What?" Bemused, he continues to laugh at whatever joke is funny inside his head.

"I really don't get how you weren't put in Slytherin" He responds, still chortling slightly. I roll my eyes at him, pulling away from him. His other arm finds my waist and tugs me closer to him. He pulls me into a sort of embrace, leaning his chin on my shoulder. "But I wouldn't have you any other way" He whispers softly. His lips brushing against my ear, causing a shiver to run down my spine and goosebumps to appear on my skin.

Suddenly, he removes his arms from me and steps back. I frown in confusion until I see Blaise in fancy dress robes approaching us with Millicent Bulstrode clinging onto his arm happily. I wave nervously at the two, as I hardly know Blaise let alone Millicent. They come to a halt in front of us. We all greet each other and soon everyone is allowed to enter the Great Hall, which has been transformed into a winter wonderland.

The ball starts officially with the champions dancing with their partners to that stupid dance Professor Flitwick made us learn last week. I roll my eyes in disgust at Potter flouncing around with Pavarti Patil from the table that Draco and I are sat at. Noticing Draco's eyes fixed on my face, I turn my gaze to him and earn a smirk from the blonde

"Please, don't make me dance to this stupid song" I plead, locking eyes with his blue orbs. His eyes soften slightly as he stares at me with his chin perched on his hand carelessly.

"Alright" Draco chuckles. "But only if you promise to dance with me later" He adds, winking slyly. I nod in agreement, causing a goofy grin to spread across his lips. He shuffles his chair closer to mine and I instinctively rest my head on his shoulder, as his arm wraps around my torso and we watch the dancers frolicking around the Great Hall. 

.................................

"So where's my dance?" Draco asks, cheekily nudging my arm with his. I had promised him a dance two hours ago after the feast had finished, but nonetheless I roll my eyes. A light blush covers my cheeks.

"I guess I could dance with you" I sigh dramatically. "If I really have to" I add, taking hold of his hand that was held out to me and allowing him to lead me to the dance floor as a slow song starts. His right arm slinks around my waist, pulling me gently into him. Tentatively, I place my left hand on his shoulder, whilst he takes hold of my other hand and we begin to sway slowly to the music. I lazily rest my head in his shoulder, letting out a content sigh.

We sway like this until the rest of the song, contained in our own little bubble, until Professor Dumbledore announces that it is the end of the festivities and that students should return to their dormitories. A low groan leaves Draco as we reluctantly pull away from each other. I giggle helplessly at his disgruntlement. This causes Draco to stick his tongue out at me and I lightly punch him in the arm. We make our way out of the Great Hall slowly among the crowds of students, Draco's hand gripping mine. Keeping me close to him. 

"Draco!" A shout from the other side of the entrance hall causes Draco to stop abruptly and I stumble into his back clumsily. I look around in a bid to find the source of the voice, as Blaise and Millicent emerge from the throng of dithering students.

"Hey" Draco greets them, casually. Millicent timidly waves at the pair of us. 

"So, looks like you won the bet" Blaise speaks, pulls out some galleons and drops them in Draco's outstretched palm, causing me to stare at them in confusion. Draco smiles smugly before pocketing the gold coins. 

"What bet?" I ask, curiosity killed the cat but I don't care. Blaise raises an eyebrow at Draco, before turning to me.

"Oh, I bet Draco that he wouldn't be able to get you to go to the Yule Ball with him" He says, earning a hard glare from Draco's cold blue eyes. What? This was a dare? I glance up at Draco, as I feel tears threaten to spill over my lower lashes. He opens his mouth to speak, but he is suddenly cut short when my hand makes contact with the side of his pale face. The sound of my hand making contact with his skin causes eyes from the surrounding crowd of students to fall on the pair of us. 

"Don't Draco. I thought you actually cared about me!" I push him away as he makes an attempt to reason with me. Tears now flow freely down my cheeks, leaving black mascara trails.

Hurriedly, I turn away from him and sprint up the grand staircase with a tear stained face and a broken heart. 

Other Chapters

[shereen1]

Embrace Effortless Elegance: The Kaftan Maxi Dress for Every Occasion

Hey EmalinaFashion fam! It's your girl [shery], and today we're diving into a garment that's the epitome of breezy elegance: the kaftan maxi dress. This timeless piece transcends trends, offering a universally flattering silhouette that's both comfortable and chic. Whether you're lounging poolside, attending a summer wedding, or simply want to add a touch of bohemian flair to your everyday life, the kaftan maxi dress has you covered.

What is a Kaftan Maxi Dress?

Originating in the Middle East and North Africa, the kaftan has a long and rich history. Traditionally, kaftans were loose-fitting robes worn by both men and women. Today, the kaftan maxi dress reinterprets this classic silhouette for the modern woman. Defined by its flowing maxi length and relaxed fit, the kaftan maxi dress typically features wide sleeves and a comfortable v-neckline or round neckline.

Why We Love the Kaftan Maxi Dress

There are countless reasons to fall in love with the kaftan maxi dress. Here are just a few:

Versatility: This dress seamlessly transitions from casual to dressy depending on the occasion. Style it with sandals and a sun hat for a beach getaway, or elevate it with statement earrings and heels for a night out.

Comfort: The loose-fitting silhouette allows for maximum comfort and breathability, making it perfect for hot summer days.

Flattering Fit: The kaftan's relaxed nature flatters all body types. It cinches the waist subtly without being restrictive, creating a beautiful drape that flatters your curves.

Effortless Style: The kaftan maxi dress requires minimal styling effort. Throw it on and you're instantly ready to go. It's a lifesaver on those days when you want to look put-together but don't have the time or energy to fuss.

Endless Design Options: Kaftan maxi dresses come in a vast array of fabrics, prints, and colors. From lightweight linen to luxurious silk, bold florals to sophisticated solids, there's a kaftan maxi dress to suit every taste and style.

How to Style Your Kaftan Maxi Dress

The beauty of the kaftan maxi dress lies in its versatility. The following advice can help you style it for various events:

Beach Chic: Pair your kaftan maxi dress with a floppy hat, statement sunglasses, and flat sandals for a beach-ready look. Add a touch of glam with layered necklaces and a colorful beach bag.

Summer Soiree: Elevate your kaftan maxi dress for a summer evening event by adding a pair of statement earrings, a pair of wedges, and a clutch. A touch of bronzer and a bold lip will complete the look.

Bohemian Bliss: Channel your inner boho goddess by layering a kimono or denim jacket over your kaftan maxi dress. Finish with ankle boots and a stack of bracelets for a carefree vibe.

Everyday Elegance: Dress down your kaftan maxi dress for everyday wear with a pair of sneakers or flats and a simple tote bag. It's a comfortable and stylish option for running errands or meeting friends for lunch.

EmalinaFashion's Kaftan Maxi Dress Collection

At EmalinaFashion, we're obsessed with kaftan maxi dresses! We offer a curated selection of stunning kaftans in a variety of styles, colors, and fabrics. Whether you're looking for a classic white linen kaftan for a beach vacation or a vibrant printed kaftan for a summer wedding, we have the perfect dress for you.

Here are a few of our top picks from the assortment:

The Santorini Sunset Kaftan Maxi Dress: This flowy chiffon dress in a fiery orange hue is perfect for making a statement.

The Bohemian Rhapsody Kaftan Maxi Dress: Embrace your inner free spirit with this colorful floral print kaftan in a lightweight cotton blend.

The Midnight Muse Kaftan Maxi Dress: Turn heads in this luxurious black silk kaftan with delicate lace detailing.

Head over to the EmalinaFashion website to browse our full collection of kaftan maxi dresses and find your perfect match!

Kaftan Maxi Dress Care Tips

To ensure your kaftan maxi dress stays looking its best, follow these care tips:

Read the care label: Always follow the specific care instructions on the garment label.

Delicate fabrics: For delicate fabrics like silk, handwashing or dry cleaning is recommended.

Washing: For machine-washable kaftans, use a gentle cycle with cold water.

Drying: Air drying is always the best option to prevent shrinkage.

Conclusion