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#orbs were so much easier
hascapart · 1 year
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"Do you ever think about me?"
dream & nightmare @ jokublog
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yeyayeya · 2 years
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Fuck you IntSys I thought I could skip this banner
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ponderingmoonlight · 2 months
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Seeing kny men shirtless for the first time
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Pairings: Rengoku x fem!reader; Gyomei x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader (bonus: all hashira men x fem!reader)
Word Count: 3,2k
Warnings: this might be a little shitty so be nice pls, this is actually the first time I ever wrote for Gyomei so please please please let me know what you think! not 100% proofread 🥹🤍
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Rengoku Kyojuro
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“Have you seen Rengoku-san? There’s something I want to ask him about our upcoming mission.”
Tengen tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, lips unable to keep that dirty grin off his face. Yeah, surely you’re asking for a mission and not because you’re having a crush on the flame hashira since joining the pillars.
“He went outside in the gardens to view the blooming roses”, he lies oh so innocently.
A bright smile creeps up your face, heart already skipping a beat in excitement. If you were only brave enough to finally ask Kyojuro out, how easier your life would be if you’d just keep your distance to him. But the prospect of seeing him alone is enough for your mind to go blank. Hopefully, the others don’t notice.
“Thank you so much, Tengen”, you blurt out with a hasty bow before yanking out of the room.
“Didn’t he say he wanted to change since he sweated so much during training?”, Shinobu thinks out loud.
“Yeah, that’s going to be a lot of fun”, Tengen replies with a smirk plastered onto his face.
Your mind races back and forth as you make your way to the gardens. What will you even ask him? Maybe what he has planned, if he already knows something? What if you mess up? This is actually the first time you and Kyojuro got assigned a mission together. You have to make a good impression or otherwise, he won’t take you with him again.
“Rengoku-san, I don’t mean to disturb you, but I have a few questions regarding the ne-“
Your breath gets stuck in your throat immediately, feet coming to a rapid stand.
There he is, the flame hashira.
Shirtless, his upper body soaking wet while he empties a bucket of water over his head.
“Oh, (y/n)! I didn’t expect you here!”, he announces with his eyes widened.
You can’t even blink, mind going dull. You always secretly imagined what Kyojuro might look like underneath that uniform, if his muscles look as buff as they feel underneath your touch while training.
And they do.
Oh god, they definitely do.
“I-I…Tengen told me that…You’re here to see…the roses”, you blurt out, still unable to look away.
“Indeed! But before that, I really needed to change my uniform since I sweated a lot during training.”
“Yeah, I can see that”, you mumble.
“(y/n), are you not feeling well? You look quite red from afar. Allow me to check on you.”
When he suddenly starts walking towards you with his chest muscles tensing with each and every step, you feel like fainting. Of course you never doubted that this man looks good underneath that uniform, but this?
“Your cheeks are really hot”, he comments while running his wet hand up and down your cheek.
“I…I…”
Your mind is a mess, not a single thought is making sense right now. Are you dreaming? Is that really Rengoku Kyojuro standing in front of you with his abs glittering in the heat of the sun, so close that you’d be able to touch him.
“Maybe you should go and see Shinobu-“
“I’m flustered!”, you finally cry out like an idiot.
Only to regret your words immediately.
His hand stops right in its tracks, the piercing presence of his orbs forcing you to look up at him.
“Why would you be flustered, (y/n)?”, he questions innocently.
May the ground swallow you whole in hope you’ll never return. God, why does this have to be so embarrassing? You’ll definitely have a word with Tengen when this is over.
“Because I…I have a crush on you, Kyojuro.”
The words you never dared to say out loud, that lingered through your mind each and every time you saw him. Like a rock, they fall off your chest while a wave of pure panic starts rushing over you.
You just confessed your feelings to him.
Him, Rengoku Kyojuro.
“I think I need to go now”, you blurt out, already starting to turn away when Kyojuro grabs your wrist gently.
“Please don’t go, (y/n). Actually, I feel the same way about you.”
He sweeps you around so rapidly that you are forced against something as hard as a wall. Did he accidentally throw you against a wall, the nearby tree?
The second you open your eyes again, you stare at his bare chest, only millimetres away from your face.
That wasn’t a wall.
“I had an eye on you since the first time I saw you. You are just…so amazing!”, he confesses with a passion that is even unusual for him.
“Kyojuro, I…”
Your bare face touched his naked chest.
“I…”
And don’t get started on his sight, his broad chest, the muscles that flex when he grabs your shoulders passionately.
“I…I can’t…”
“What’s wrong, (y/n)? A cat got your tongue?”, Tengen jeers from behind.
All your senses seem to come back to you in the split of a second when a wave of anger washes over you.
“You little…Why did you do that!?”, you cry out while storming towards the much taller man.
“Because your face looks very flashy when it’s this red.”  
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 Gyomei Himejima
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To say that you are exhausted would be the understatement of a century. Being out in the scorching sun all day really took its toll on your already bruised body.
Not to mention the training methods of none other than the stone hashira himself.
Gyomei is not a stranger to you. You’ve known each other for quite some time by now, joining the demon slayer corps almost simultaneously. And that force of a man never failed to impress you.
You wrench your sweat-soaked clothes in the river while staring at your own reflection. Why are you even here, though? You might not be a hashira yet, but you trained with Gyomei countless times before. Over and over, you shoved rocks around and almost drowning in that exact river. At this point, the basic training of the corps members isn’t even enough for you to break a sweat. You find yourself shoving that rock 10 cho by now while carrying tree trunks on your back.
You furrow your eyebrows. Now that you think of it, you didn’t even catch a glimpse at Gyomei himself since being here. Apparently, the hashira training does keep him busy.
That sting of agony that pierces through your heart can’t be stopped, though. Over the span of those last years, you got to know the stone hashira better. Despite his tall and threatening appearance, he is the softest man you’ve ever known. So kind that he brought tears to your eyes more than once, so considerate that it’s hard to believe that this man lives alone.
It was inescapable for you to fall from him head over heels. And now you find yourself longing for his presence even though you know all too well that he is busy training the corps members.
“I didn’t expect to greet you here at this late hour.”
You almost trip over head-first into the water, caught by a strong hand last-minute before you take another dive into the river.
“I’m beyond sorry for scaring you like this, (y/n)”, an all too familiar voice continues while pushing you back on your feet.
Normally, the first thing you see is his demon slayer uniform and cloak draped around him in a somehow elegant way.
But not today.
You swallow hard, widened eyes blankly staring at his naked chest. This man standing in front of you…Gyomei wears nothing but his uniform pants.
“I…uh…don’t w-worry”, you stutter like an idiot, his arms still holding you in place gently.
“Did I interrupt you? I didn’t know that you were taking a bath.”
His soft voice paired with that sight in front of you. You’ve never seen him shirtless, never witnessed the way his veins pop out of his arms and how well formed he is underneath that uniform. It would be so easy to allow your fingertips a taste and let yourself discover his muscles even better, to just stretch out your hand and-
“Does it bother you that I am shirtless? I came here to take a bath myself.”
“Bother?”, you press out.
“I…I’m not bothered at all!”
“I guess I’m just a little…flustered…”
“Flustered?”, he repeats in confusion.
“If I make you feel uncomfortable, I’ll cover myself of course. I just noticed you were here and we haven’t seen each other for a long time by now.”
“I missed you”, he adds, forcing your world upside down for a minute.
Since you’ve got to know him, there was never more than friendly words between Gyomei and you. Not more than a shoulder rub, not more than motivating words from time to time. You never allowed yourself to compliment him or talk about anything apart from missions.
Until now. Until Gyomei confessed out of nowhere that he missed you.
While being shirtless
“I…missed you too”, you finally give in.
You allow your eyes a little glimpse at him. Just a little taste of his broad shoulders and how his veins stand out. Just a little something of his rock-hard abs, his enormous upper body that is usually covered by his uniform. Just one look at-
“I thought about you all the time, to be exact”, you breathe out before you even realize what you’re talking about.
“I’m feeling the same way, (y/n). Let me assure you that my heart beats just as fast as yours at the moment.”
Gently, he cups your hand with his and presses your palm against his bare chest, straight against his racing heart that pulsates against your skin.
Oh god. You feel like fainting any given minute, your very own heart pounding so hard that you might get a heart attack.
“Now, allow me to put on my uniform again so that we can have a proper-“
“Wait!”, you blurt out.
“Let’s just stay like this for uh…a little longer…”
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Sanemi Shinazugawa
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It’s hard to keep your palms from sweating when you know exactly where you’re going. To him, the wind hashira. The man who swept you off your feet without even trying, the man you haven’t seen in such a long time by now.
While Sanemi always kept himself busy with missions, you were assigned to a mission far away from home. It took you over a month to finally find the demon who was responsible for this mess. And eventually, Sanemi just stopped writing you letters or replying to your messages. Even though you were so sure that he might feel the same way about you, he proved you wrong.
In the most painful way.
“I can’t go any further, that’s exactly where he is”, you complain while following your crow around.
You know this path uncomfortably well, the way it leads you next to a river, through a field of strawberries. Straight into the wind hashira estate.
“Direct orders from Kagaya-sama! You need to undergo the hashira training!”
“I just returned from an exhausting mission, did you tell him that?”, you bark back only to get attacked by your stinky crow.
“So cheeky! Watch how you talk to me!”, it cries out, literally dragging you along with it while its beak bursts the skin of your cheek.
Your heart almost stops beating, pounding rougher and rougher against your ribcage with every step you take towards the wind hashira estate.
What if the man you still love rejects you? What if he breaks your heart in front of everyone else, if he speaks out those words you imagined when you waited another day for his reply?
You want to escape, want to get as far away from here as possible. But your unforgiving crow drags you with it until you find yourself at the front doors of his estate.
“Get yourself together, dumbass! Go inside and talk to him! GO!”
With one last bite it finally leaves you alone, right at the opened front door.
There’s nothing you’d like more than vanishing from this earth, to get swallowed whole. Why on earth does it have to be him first? Why aren’t you allowed to train with Tengen, Giyu, basically everyone else? Your heart races so hard inside your ribcage that it takes your breath away, eyes staring into the dark estate.
Is he even home?
You allow yourself to take a few steps into the building, to look around. No cries, no voices? Maybe he isn’t even home. Are they training somewhere else, in the nearby woods, maybe?
“Fuck!”
His voice almost sends you over the edge, forces your eyes to dart around in sheer horror. That was Sanemi, without any doubt. But is he alone?
What if he’s not?
What if he’s with a girl?
You swallow hard, the ugliest thoughts taking over your head when you hear water splashing from a room nearby.
You can’t help it. As quiet as possible, you make your way towards the room the sounds originate from, ready to find literally everything. What if that’s the reason he didn’t write you back? What if he fell in love with another woman and simply forgot about you?
Your eyes peek through the ever so slightly opened door.
And your jaw drops to the floor in an instant.
There he stands, nothing but a towel covering his private parts while droplets of water run down his naked back. Sanemi just washed himself.
But oh…
You can feel your mouth watering just by looking at the scars that cover his back, how delicious the water than runs down his neck seems.  You’re only a few steps away from that force of a man, only a few steps in order to touch him. You always wondered what his skin feels like, if his outside is as rough as his inside. And what does he smell like straight out of the shower? Does he still smell like himself? And what about his abs-
All air drains from your compressed lungs as you suddenly find yourself pinned against the wall straight in Sanemi’s bathroom.
“Why the hell are you spying on me like some little freak?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
“I…wasn’t spying”, you press out, his distressed orbs meeting yours.
Fuck, you’re screwed.
“Oh yeah? Why were you standing outside my bathroom then? I didn’t even know you were back!”
“Because you never fucking asked”, you finally bark back.
He draws even closer, lingers over you like an unpromising shadow with his naked upper body still dripping. No, you have to concentrate on the fact that you’re mad as hell right now, there’s no room for inspecting his upper body.
But his abs definitely look as good as they feel.
“You were out on a mission, how the hell was I supposed to ask? I thought you’d just let me know when you’re back”, he bites back.
“Oh, could have tried answering my damn messages, maybe? Did you ever think about that!?”
“Me answering your messages? You never replied to me!”
You furrow your eyebrows.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“What I’m talking about? I sent you countless messages and you never answered. I even asked Kagaya-sama if you died or something! I…I was so fucking worried…”
His heavy breath mixes with yours, caresses your oversensitive skin.
“But Sanemi…I did the same”, you finally mutter.
Sanemi’s chest rises and falls rapidly, a few water drops escaping the force of his skin. His oh so glowy skin. Of course you knew that this man would look good shirtless. But this? How are you supposed to stay focused when his skin turns pink ever so slightly, when his muscular chest moves like that?
“Can you stop staring at my abs and focus on me for one minute?”, he barks while flicking in front of your way too focused eyes.
You feel your cheeks heat up in an instant, glossy eyes staring at him like a caught deer. If there’s one thing that’s worse than checking Sanemi out, it’s definitely getting caught.
“Sorry, I have to go”, you mumble while pulling yourself away from him.
Only to find yourself wrapped in his naked arms even tighter.
“You’re not going anywhere. I just asked you something”, he warns you.
“Let go of me!”
“Did you…miss me?”
Your arms stop right in their tracks, widened eyes staring at his flustered face in sheer disbelief. There he stands, Sanemi Shinazugawa, straight out of the shower while asking you if you missed him?
“Yeah, always”, you reply out of instinct.
“Good. Because same.”
He doesn’t even give you the chance to second-guess your answer. In the split of a second, you get devoured by his muscular arms, your very own kimono soaking wet in an instant.
Are you dreaming?
“Wait, what?”, you breathe out.
“And you totally checked me out”, he adds proudly.
“I didn’t check you out-“
“Oh yeah?”
He lets go of you just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his delicious upper body again.
“Maybe a little bit…”
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-Bonus-
You huff out in exhaustion. What the actual fuck were you thinking when you agreed on training with all hashira? Well, apparently not that you’d literally vomit all over yourself after getting hit without any mercy by all of them.
“That little fucker Shinazugawa”, you curse under your breath while stomping towards the wind hashira estate.
“I’ll kick your puny ass next time.”
Your feet drag you back to them with last strength. Rengoku, Tengen, Obanai, Shinazugawa, Tomioka…why on earth are all of them so damn strong? Super unfair.
“Have you seen how I beat the shit out of her?”, you hear Sanemi jeer from afar as well as the constant mumbling of the others.
“It wasn’t necessary to hit her this hard”, Giyu comments.
“Hell yes it was. Now that brat knows what she’s dealing with!”
All you see is red. Even though your body begs you to stop, you storm towards their voices.
“Listen up, you little shit-“
Your breath gets stuck in your throat, eyes darting around without a real aim.
There they stand. Shirtless. Every single one of them.
Oh.
“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault that you’re a loser-“
Just this once, you’re actually able to ignore Sanemi’s shitty words. That toned abs Rengoku has, Tengen’s veiny arms, Obanai’s athletic build, the scars that compliment Sanemi’s muscles so well-
Why is it suddenly so hot?
“Are you okay, (y/n)?”, Giyu questions while rubbing the back of his head with a towel.
How is it possible that he looks this good underneath that loose uniform? You always expected Giyu to be rather athletic that muscular given his fast movements. But that mountain of a biceps definitely doesn’t lie.
“I…”
Not a single logical thought is left in your blank mind, eyes roaming back and forth between them.
“I need to go.”
In the matter of seconds, you disappear inside the wind hashira estate without a trace.
“Is (y/n) alright? She looked rather pale”, Rengoku thinks out loud, still staring at where you last stood.
“She was definitely checking me out”, Tengen announces proudly.
“You? Bet she was looking at me”, Sanemi jeers at the tall man.
“How are they so hot?”, you mumble to yourself while inspecting them through the window.
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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Bimbo!Reader who's convinced Pushover!Konig is just a big teddy bear of a giant
He literally beat up a guy who tried to hit on you, and you were fussing over him, ruining that pretty shirt you helped him choose. Konig has no sense of style or tact, and he is very sensitive to criticism - but this is where your inner critic is shutting up, and you just fuss over him like he is just an overgrown baby.
Konig feels like your fussing over him is a bit embarrassing and generally a humiliating process, but he doesn't care - not as long as he can feel your hands on his face when you're wiping away the blood. You're adorable, fucking precious, and he can't wait to ruin you - just as soon as you'd stop being so dense about his hints...but you won't stop, and he finds himself in a weirdly wholesome relationship. It might be that you're just too dumb to see the signs, but he kinda likes your immunity to red flags - and besides, he is smart for the both of you...and likes being cared for too much. You drag him over to your favorite cafe, and he forces himself to stop thinking about fingering you under the table. You would probably allow him, especially while you're wearing a skirt that barely covers your ass and your cleavage is deeper than the knife wounds he used to inflict on his opponents, but he is far too nervous for this. Doesn't want to appear weird, even as you scoot closer to him and ask what he thinks about the necklace you bought with the money he gave you. He stares at the little space orb settled perfectly on your tits. He gulps. Konig probably needs to stop excusing himself in the middle of your dates to jerk off in a public bathroom, but the other possibility would be fucking you senselessly and making you even dumber than you already are...and it's not really an option. He keeps telling himself that he is not weird, but he allows you to sleep on his chest when you're too tired to go home after a movie night, and then he'd massage your tits for the rest of the evening. He keeps telling himself that he is not weird, but it's easier for him to snatch your panties and use them for masturbation than actually asking you to fuck him. The worst thing is - you trust him. You look at him with your precious shining eyes, and you act like he isn't a fucking war criminal who can snap your neck in a second. You give him too much power, trusting him so blindly - he knows he is going to snap one day. Like a rope slowly untangling from its threads. Like a metal cable that is going to escape your arms and cut through the soft skin of your palms.
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chocostrwberry · 3 months
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Sentimaggedon!!
Sentimonster designs I came up with bc I was thinking about Argos’s debut in my AU! Bc I’m dumb and I haven’t thought too deep about him as a character to the story yet-
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They were originally suppose to all be based on the seven deadly sins, especially Gasumptious (gluttony) and Elvy (envy). But I also wanted to branch into maybe Felix’s other hidden emotions, like his deep love for Kagami and his fear of being replaced by Adrien (Bride and Athazagora).
Argos becomes an official enemy when Dragonbug tells him they need to be destroyed. He defends them, saying they’re just “infants” and can learn how to behave properly with time. But a frustrated and exhausted Dragonbug she tells him they aren’t like humans and are created for one purpose: to serve and destroy. This hits home with Argos, and he develops a fear and hatred for Ladybug and swears his loyalty to Madame Morphisa afterwards in order to take her down and prove just how monstrous he can be.
I’m still kinda trying to find a way to make this concept work in my au. He promised to serve her in exchange for the peacock miraculous, and she wants him to use it to take Ladybug’s miraculous. In a novice attempt, he might have just starting creating multiple sentimonsters that he thought were harmless enough (something she did NOT expect), but they quickly spiraled out of control. It’s much easier to make sentimonsters based on others emotions, because you can predict which one you will create it off of. But instead, he chose his own, which makes it more difficult to tell how the sentimonster will act. I think it would show the aspect that these creatures do have a mind of their own, compared to previous Mayura sentimonsters who were easily controlled by their akumas!!
Red Moon
Red Moon is obviously already canon, but her power is instead hypnosis. If you get caught in her light, you stop whatever you are doing to stare at her. The streets of Paris become like a statue exhibit: countless of unlucky citizens are bathing in her glow, staring at the beauty of the red moon.
Gasumptious
As he devours, Gasumptious grows bigger and bigger. He’ll eat anything, so beware! After finishing most of the city, Gasumptious sits atop the Eiffel Tower and gnaws on its metal posts.
Elvy
Elvy lives in the sewers. She can control water and uses it to drain you of happy memories, which she keeps in floating green orbs and guards for herself.
It’s so silly to me how the manifestation of Felix’s jealousy of Adrien is fought and defeated by Chat Noir, who is Adrien ehehehheeh.
She also sounds like a Pokémon!! Probably like a Lapras, or the one that trills really pretty
Athazagora
A timid creature, Athazagora took over the catacombs, and hides in the shadows. You can hear the creaking and rattling of its wooden limbs in the dark as it stalk you. If you can’t escape, it envelops you in its cloak of darkness, never to be seen again.
Bride
The supposed advisor of Argos. She never leaves his side, and is always whispering something in his ear. To protect Argos, she showcases her ability to turn her arm into a long spear/sword, incredible strength and mobility, and that her body is made of an indestructible crystal.
Plus, he can make multiple sentimonsters bc he’s a sentihuman himself (Other people can’t. You can only make one, kind of like how the Butterfly miraculous can only Akumatize one person at a time, unless they share an object. Current excuse I’m going with that makes semi-sense HEHEHE) . So Lila totally wants to use that to her own advantage!
Ofc he fails, but she’s impressed with his resolve (and the lengths he was willing to go, albeit unintentionally), especially after sharing her goal of destroying Ladybug. Lila was feeling the effects of unification and now has a willing minion to do her bidding whenever she pleases.
If I decide to go with this plot, Lila has to end up forgetting Felix because of the curse. But she doesn’t care: all she really needs is Argos. I might need to retcon her revenge against Felix because of this but idm! It wasn’t very important to the plot anyways!
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I was considering having Dragonbug in this episode, since she could use Perfection to snipe Red Moon out of the sky! The lucky charm would be like a wand that creates a sticky translucent web to keep the sentimonsters secure so they can go find their amoks.
And a sentimonster I never ended up including, Ava. I just didn’t have a reason to put her in there but I liked the yin and yang style of her design!!
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smiley-babe · 1 year
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princess of daydreams
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knight!megumi x princess!reader
Warning: heavy pining, masturbation, corruption kink, implied virginity loss, implied unprotected sex (pull out method used).
An: this was only supposed to be a drabble ._. got carried away.
minors do not interact/ 18+ only
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He’s always been stoic. A true rule follower to his core. He luckily hasn’t had to go out and risk his life for a pointless war that brings nothing but death for months only for the two kingdoms to come to a stupid truce. That’s the one thing he doesn’t see himself doing. Fighting to keep up with a king’s inflated ego. That’s why he was happy to be assigned under the royal guard. But that wasn’t the only reason he was content with his position.
Sapphire orbs drink up layers of ribbon and silks every time he sees you. He hated those huge puffy dresses on you, obscuring him from seeing your true frame. Makes him feel perverted when he thinks any of those thoughts and they’re so often. He sits up straighter every time you pass him. When your eyes meet he feels his throat dry and his hands clam up. Then there’s that sweet smile you always greet him with.
That moment always feels like sunshine beaming on his face. Like the air was sucked from his lungs and he has to take a gulp of fresh air. It gets to him so bad. That smile replays in his daydreams when his mind isn’t occupied with anything else. It’s even worse at night when his imagination really takes over.
Alone in his own chambers, he imagines what you look like in your night clothes or maybe even nothing at all. He feels so ashamed when he becomes aroused from the thought. Megumi always imagines what you would whisper to him if he had you here with him. He wonders if you would be hesitant in the case of keeping your innocence because of your status.
He thinks about corrupting you, convincing you to give him your first time under the idea that he’s helping you, showing you how to please your future husband. And you, so sweet and naive, give it to him willingly so you can be a good future wife.
Megumi shudders thinking about your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, instructing you not to use your teeth. Your mouth would be so warm and he wants to cum in it so bad and tell you to swallow it. He feels sick for thinking about kissing you afterwards.
Then he gets you under him, preps you so sweetly since it’s your first time and you need lubrication. Instead he just wanted to taste you. He thinks about how good you probably taste and how you would squirm from his tongue. He would make sure you finish on his mouth before trying out his fingers. He starts with one and soothes you when you cry, kissing away your tears. He would admire your beauty here and silently wish you were his. Then the second finger. By then you’re moving your hips in tandem with his fingers and you come undone again.
It’s so warm, with your bodies pressed together and nothing but the moonlight illuminating your guys’ features. With a couple sloppy kisses shared Megumi lines himself up with your purity. This is the part of the imagination where Megumi starts to touch himself.
Rough, calloused hands, used to holding a sword, grasps his hard cock. He sighs out, jaw slacking a bit and sapphire eyes closing. He smears the pre dribbling from his slit onto his cock. His hips rock to fuck up into his fist and he moans softly from the slight relief. He knows you would feel so much better wrapped around him.
His imagination runs wild with the thought of finally easing himself into you. He would shush you when you cry out to him that it hurts. “You want to be a noble wife, right? Then we can’t get caught. Quiet my lady.” He gets halfway before pulling out and pushing back in even farther. It starts to get easier for you to take him, your cunt opening up for him with every slight push of his hips.
Your nails dig into his strong forearms as you whine and keen for him. His lips mold with yours to shush you and he changes the position slightly to spread you even more open for him. The back of your knees rest in the crooks of his elbows and the pain returns again as he digs himself deeper into you. He wants to curse aloud and moan out your name so you know what you do to him.
“S- sir it’s deep,” you whisper to him as he keeps his pace slow.
“That’s the point,” he speaks in the dark. “Your husband is going to want to impregnate you the first night of your marriage. He needs to be close to your womb. Therefore this position is very common.” You don’t even question him because Megumi makes you feel safe. He’s supposed to. He’s a knight of the royal guard.
His hand speeds up and a hiss sounds from his lips as he imagines his balls clapping against against your ass every time he thrusts back in. He thinks about how well you would take it despite being a sweet little virgin. And all because you want to please your future husband, whoever he shall be. But in that moment you’re Megumi’s and Megumi’s alone.
You two try to stay quiet but it feels too good. Each other’s names whispered against your lips as you shared sweet kisses. A groan and a curse from Megumi and a shaky moan and whimpers from you. The bed creaks a bit from all the movement and Megumi can feel himself getting close. “I’m almost there,” he moans softly. You pull him in for another kiss, this one a bit messier and needier than the others.
It has him flinging to the edge and it disappoints him that he has to pull out. But he does, stroking his pretty cock over your body, cumming with a low, “fuck”.
He spills into his hand, some of it getting onto his lower abdomen. In his daydream though, he finishes on your bosom that he still wishes he could see with his own eyes.
Here comes the shame that approaches with these nightly thoughts. He shouldn’t be thinking about even doing that to you. But he always wonders if you would take him up on the offer if he ever asked. With a sigh he cleans himself up and takes himself back to bed, absolutely angry at himself for wanting to corrupt the princess.
Meanwhile he doesn’t know that you think of him, the pretty knight that fights with the fierceness of fire, when playing in your pretty cunt. Your nightly routine also included a made up scenario of him accompanying you to his chamber and filling you to the brim. Maybe one day you’ll order him to your room so you can enact your fantasy. But for now you two rely on your imagination to get you through these lonely nights.
______
tags: @luxekeyah @chosovixen @noritopia
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etheries1015 · 6 months
Text
Rubbing Lilias back
General warnings: Gender neutral reader, Suggestive, established relationship, mentions of Lilias trust issues and his horrible back problems <3
I saw someone comment under Silvers's birthday photo that Lilia may be wearing a back brace, which made perfect sense to me! We also see during battles (if you use his cards and see his sprite) he constantly stretches his back before entering a battle, poor old man <3
So, what if, the observant human you are, offer to give him a loving message?
"Lilia, is your back alright?" The fae had always been against showing people his vulnerabilities, yet sitting there watching TV in the ramshackle dorm alone with you gave him the confidence to confide his woes to you.
"I will admit," he started, "my back has been causing me some issues as of late. I've had to consistently wear my back brace to alleviate the pain," He sighed. You gave him a look of pity before a light bulb flickered in your mind and you turned to face Lilia with excitement.
"Let me rub your back for you! I promise I'm good at it," You smiled, "At least, I like to think I am." Lilia's red orbs widened in surprise at this declaration, before his signature smug smile came upon his features.
"Ohohoh? Well, far be if from me to deny such a kind offer!"
So there you were, Sitting atop Lillias back while he lay on the ground and you used all your might into giving him a message.
"Although you haven't much strength in you, I would say this is rather relaxing!" you groaned and complained that you weren't weak, just that his clothes were thick and you were having a hard time getting to the right spots. Once you said the magic words, Lilia immediately removed his shirt leaving him topless. You stared at the scars that were upon his body in surprise, your fingers lightly tracing the marks on his back causing him to shutter under your feathery touch.
"little bat," He hummed, "Admire my beautiful physique another time, did you not say this would be easier for you?" The fae teased. With a rosy shade of red upon your cheeks you continued to knead at his shoulders and back, feeling the outline of his muscles and bare skin...you couldn't help but feel yourself embarrassingly become aroused at such simple contact. You couldn't help it, everything about this man was utterly perfect and a simple contact such as fingertips against bare shoulder blades could make you melt. The moment Lilia groaned in satisfaction at your persistent touch, you knew it was game over. You felt our hands become sore and the distraction of your arousal caused your grip to lighten, no longer pressing deeply into the tense tissue as you were.
"Ahh..." He hummed, "You said you were going to give this old man a massage, however..." The movement happened all at once, and you soon found in a blink of an eye he had twisted your positions in which his hands pinned your wrists above your head and he was looming over you with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"It seems in terms of strength, I am still far above you despite my...minor back issue." You noticed him wince slightly but distracted you from that fact by pressing a kiss against your lips, noting how you had gotten distracted and it had not gone unawares from Lilia's "detector," as he calls it.
Pulling away from the kiss, his eyes stared deep into yours, allowing silence to reign. You were giving him a deadpanned stare, and Lilias eyes shut tight with sweat dripping from his brow and face pale and scrunched.
"You just hurt your back doing that maneuver, didn't you?" Lilia pursed his lips and hesitated before nodding, leaving you sighing helplessly.
"Alright, let's move you to the bed. I'll go grab some medicinal agents and your back brace." you gently helped him to the side assist him up, "and don't try and say you're fine. I don't sleep with liars, so knock it off."
"I suppose that is deserved...thank you, dearest. whatever would I do without you?~" Lilia kisses your cheek as you assist him, internally thanking fate for bringing him such an amazing person as yourself. Oh how he never thought he would find himself confiding his weaknesses with someone else, and you were there to prove him wrong time and time again.
And...although he's a feeble old fae, he will never stop trying to impress you with his rizz, heuheu. Albeit at the expense of his poor back, make sure you scold him about his posture when he's gaming and other poor habits he picked up over the years. Smh.
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yanderestarangel · 6 months
Note
Okay, so I was thinking about yandere Peter B and Miguel O’Hara with FTM reader. Both men obsessed and possessive with them ever since they joined the society.
And they both share them. Kinks could be breeding, size difference, degradation, praising kink? Miguel could be a hard dom and Peter a soft dom. You could add more if ya like.
Your writing is absolutely amazing!
🕸️🕷️ 》 OUR LITTLE SPIDER || PETER B. PARKER AND MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER ||
A/N: I made it in headcanon format because I was too lazy to make a one shot, but I hope you like it.
THIS WAS A LITTLE TOO LONG SORRY--- ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.
TW: age gap, smut, yandere content, dark romance, daddykink, praise!kink, size!kink, possession, manipulation, ftm reader, betrayal, breed!kink, v!sex, anal!sex, overstimulation, kidnapping, blackmail, murder, aphrodisiac use, dub con, threesome, creampie.
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Being in the spidersociety was a big responsibility role for you, but you accepted it anyway, after all you had the sense of hero that each spider variant had. You didn't expect so much attention or flattery for you but that's what you received from two specific people ─ Miguel O'Hara, your boss and Peter B. Parker, the most peaceful and sweet spider man you met in Spider society. You swore you saw hearts form in the two older men's orbs simultaneously.
You quickly saw things escalate to a strange level. Miguel was very protective of you, even putting you on "easier" missions like staying at the spider society headquarters and giving him boring reports.
"You're safe here. Being a spider-man isn't just about battling villains, it's about learning responsibility. You're still a little spider, carinõ." the Mexican would speak as he gave you more papers to fill out. While on the other hand, Peter agreed with everything the leader said, complementing even more.
"Miguel is right, baby boy. You still have a lot to learn." The older man gestured excitedly and you accepted, defeated and sighing.
O'Hara watched everything with a chill passing through him, he tried not to let his thoughts speak loudly but he knew that Peter was also interested in you, just like the Mexican was.
"You shouldn't be so close to him, Peter. Your wife will be jealous." O'Hara hissed the words like venom coming out of his fangs, while the other spider-man just smiled relaxedly and looked at the younger man.
"You want to compete for him? Is that it Miguelito? You liked him too, didn't you? We can share." Peter spoke as he saw you oblivious to the dark conversation you were both having.
The proposal for a share was denied in the first instance, but every day it seemed more tempting for the spider leader, for several reasons. The main one was that you were getting closer to other spider variants and Peter, being more social, was keeping up with your pace ── at the same time that you realized that some spider variants no longer wanted to talk to you, if that variant presented romantic interest in you, they disappeared and came back with deep bruises, diverting topics with you and leading you to turn to Peter.
Little did you know that the nice family man was the cause of that. He was sick for you, to the point of abandoning his purposes and character ── you and his daughter were the only things that mattered to him at that moment, he told himself that he still loved Mary Jane... But he also loved you.
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Peter was getting rid of another spider variant using threats and pure blackmail to do so, but the poor victim that time had no chance after Miguel appeared and took out his fury on them. The tall man sloppily wiped the blood off his hands as he turned to Peter.
"Okay... I accept your proposal, let's share the ninõ." O'Hara spoke in a calm, cold and insane tone, while he saw Parker smile and nod his head ── after this previous peace agreement between them, it was his life's turn to become a sweet hell.
You had no one else inside or outside the spider society, Peter and Miguel were the only ones who spoke to you. (Peter's threat + Miguel's tyrannical power with the other spider variants in secret was the reason for his involuntary isolation.)
In addition to the fact that the Mexican used his entire database to find out about your family, friends and possible love interests outside the society he had control over ── some were bought with money, others were threatened and others... They were found in alleys and became news on TV channels.
Everything was falling apart in your life, even your college grades and your mental state and all you had left was the comfort of the two older men... Exactly as you both planned.
You ran into their arms while crying and venting ── an Oscar award was supposed to be presented to the duo, both of them pretended shock and indignation while you told them every detail. So when you were weakened enough, they acted, bringing you into their possession, protecting you from the cruel world that was made worse in their minds.
Compliments, gifts, words of positive affirmations and everything sweet and warm in the world they gave you. Miguel was more desperate for touch, placing you on his lap while he worked on the panels of the multiverse or giving you small, intimate but not vulgar kisses, something that asserted a silent and slow dominance ── away from curious eyes, after all he was still the leader of that society.
Peter on the other hand would give you more affection in public, you and him would even go for a walk together with mayday as a family, away from Mary Jane's eyes. He would also lie to you saying that he and his wife were separated and even show the old divorce paper to prove something to you... You were trapped in a spider web of lies and dirty manipulations.
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And when you realized, you were in a relationship with both men ── they asked you if it was okay for you to deal with both of them at the same time, which you denied, too drunk with pleasure to think about anything more than both filling you to the brim (an effect that was also the fault of the aphrodisiac Miguel had put in your drink that day.)
Peter's hands took off your spider uniform while O'Hara's thick hands went towards your wetness, playing roughly with your clit "mi hermoso" the spider leader growled in your ear as one of his thick fingers entered inside you, making you moan ─ at the same time that Peter sucked your nipples and gently squeezed your breasts, his experienced hands were working magic on your body. Raw kisses were left by the older man on your abdomen, as Parker knelt and licked your clit, helping O'Hara prepare you even more for what was to come.
"You're already dripping for us, aren't you? Such a good little slut." The tanned man teased as he stuck a second finger in your cunt, stretching you in scissor movements, back and forth. Peter got out on his knees as he captured your lips lightly moaning huskily against your flesh: "Such a beautiful and good boy for us... You make your daddies proud like that little spider." He said as Miguel pressed his hard, pulsing erection against your ass, making you moan loudly against the other man's lips.
The two bodies fit perfectly inside you, practically crushing you with their heat as you tried not to cum on O'Hara's fingers, but the effort was in vain as you felt him easily reach your cervix. You felt one of Peter's fingers soon find your other hole, making you moan even more against his lips.
"That's it, my spider boy. Show us how much you want it." The voices mixed together as you felt like you were going to explode at any moment and it actually happened ── you came, squirting onto Miguel's forearm and dripping onto the floor as all your muscles contracted involuntarily.
"I knew it was going to be a fucking squirt." The spider leader said, laughing, as you left for the next step ── you just left yourself there, your body for the two of them to use as they wanted, you just wanted to feel good and they would guarantee that.
With careful coordination and chemistry between the three of you, you found yourself sitting on Peter's lap, your back pressed against his chest as he guided his cock to your tight hole. Meanwhile, Miguel positioned himself at your front, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly entered your dripping pussy. "Te ves tan hermoso."
Peter couldn't help but let out a groan of satisfaction as he finally buried his cock deep inside your tight ass, the feeling of being completely enveloped by your warmth and tightness was overwhelming for him, he had to fight against the urge to just thrust into you with abandon. Instead, he took deep breaths to steady himself, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck, you feel incredible, baby boy. So tight and eager for me... You wanted that, didn't you? Being filled by two dicks, a greedy, needy boy..."
Miguel's primal instincts took over as he felt the tightness of your pussy around his cock, the blissful sensation causing a guttural moan to escape his lips. "I'm going to breed in that beautiful pussy of yours, boy... You're going to be our breed whore... We're going to always leave you full of cum, in that beautiful hole of yours." Miguel's hips moved in sync with Peter's, his thrusts gaining speed and force as he aimed to push you over the edge. "So beautiful and obedient, If you continue like this, being a good boy will be rewarded ok?.." the older man moaned as you felt Peter and Miguel's cocks stretch you to the edge, letting you drool on both of their cocks like an animal in heat. Just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with pleasure as you moaned their names. Parker and O'Hara continued their relentless thrusts, prolonging your orgasm and riding the waves of your ecstasy, but they hadn't stopped yet. Peter's thrusts grew more frantic as he felt your body convulse under him, the pleasure building within him as well. He knew that his release wasn't far behind.
"You're so damn tight, baby. Fuck, I'm gonna come--" His voice was filled with a mix of pleasure and urgency as he increased the pace of his thrusts. O'Hara felt his own release drawing near, your tight pussy milking his cock with each powerful thrust. His grip on your hips tightened as he neared his own climax. "Holy shit little boy, you're really going to get pregnant with us, aren't you?" As both men reached their climaxes, they filled you with their seed. Peter's hot cum filled your tight ass, while Miguel's release spilled into your pussy, marking you as theirs. Their bodies shuddered as they reached their peaks, their gazes locked on yours. Nothing needed to be phallus, not when both of your eyes reflected their red, sickly hearts, surrounded by possession and pleasure for you.
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© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.
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askmerriauthor · 1 year
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Homie. Darling. Muchaco. Please help me. You're an animator. You've worked in the video game industry. When you get to That One Memory in TOTK (you know which one I mean and if you don't, you will),
Please help me figure out what the fuck is going on with Ganondorf's face rigging
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Man, I didn't even need to look anything up: I knew EXACTLY what you were talking about as soon as you said it.
Short Answer: Need more polys.
Long Answer: It's simultaneously a case of limited model structure and potentially some degree of intentional design choice specific to Ganondorf's presentation in this particular game.
Discussion below the jump, just for the sake of not stretching out people's dashboards. No worries about spoilers: none of this is story-relevant.
So! To give a very broad strokes bit of coverage on the wide and varied nonsense that is 3D modeling, this is a case of Topology. The basic thrust is that topology is the overall structure and layout of the mesh that makes up the 3D model's various shapes. The lower the polygon count on that mesh, the more angular its structure and the less capacity for deformation it has. The higher the polygon count, the smoother its structure and the greater its capacity for deformation. The trade-off, however, is that low-poly models are easier for a game engine to render. High-poly models are a massive drain on processing power, to say nothing if they're built inefficiently with a bunch of wasted geometry bogging things down.
Here's an example of a low-poly model on the left and a high-poly model on the right.
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So when you want to make a character emote, you're basically grabbing a bunch of those polygons around the face and moving them around to shape the face into the desired expression. If you don't have a lot of polys to play with, it causes folding and tearing issues where the model and its textures do some pretty wonky shit.
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Something both BoTW and ToTK have going for them is that they're actually very low-poly games, which is extremely helpful in making the games run as smoothly as they do given the world size and seamless loading. The lighting and texture work do A TON of heavy lifting to make the game look as good as it does. Really look at these models closely and you can see how angular they are. Look at Zelda's outstretched hand or how sharply light falls across the character's features. In the bottom right, notice how you can see the sharp points that make up Zelda's shoulders? They're not rounded; they're angled just enough to give the general illusion of a curve at a glance. Same goes for her eyes; you can count the angles that make up the shape of her eye but, at a distance and at a glance, they look big, round, and doleful.
Something you can also notice is when characters talk, a lot of them have little to no facial deformation. Mineru, for example, basically has a one-hinge Muppet mouth outside of pre-rendered cutscenes. A lot of characters' eyes are basically painted onto their faces and switch between static texture shapes as opposed to being fully rendered and animated orbs modeled into their heads.
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Ganondorf actually has a fairly complex character model, especially compared to Link or Zelda, but he doesn't have a lot of model deformation. Basically the only parts of his head that move are his eyes/brows and mouth/jaw. If you look closely around his eyes you can see they're rendered basically as triangles. There's only two or three points along their shape the model can deform at. Further, since the rest of his face doesn't really deform when he emotes, it means the only thing that really moves are those small key elements. Which yields moments like this:
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The animators are basically pushing his expression as much as they are actually capable of with this model's limited structure. See the hard fold in the lower eyelid, or the fact that his teeth aren't attached to anything inside his jaw? It does the job though; it overall looks good and, in the moment this scene happens, really adds something to the unsettling nature of what's going down.
I mentioned before that there may be a certain intent as well. Something specific to Ganondorf in this iteration is that, more than ever, he's become an Oni. Ganondorf's character design has slowly been leaning toward more Japanese-specific visual concepts over the past few appearances but he's gone full yokai for ToTK. Not just in his build, but in his clothing and weaponry. Dude is swinging around a kanabo for the first time ever in the franchise.
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In Japanese mythology and Noh theater, a Red Oni basically functions as the embodiment of all the worst parts of mankind. They're greedy, brutal, cruel monsters who revel in causing destruction. If you want to look at their good aspects, it's traits like passion, ambition, and a wild spirit. But, overall, they're the bad guys. Ganondorf is 100% depicted as a Red Oni in ToTK. So when you keep that in mind, add in the implications of what Ganondorf just did in that scene, and consider the traditional appearances of a Red Oni...
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...then that face-breaking grin makes a lot more sense.
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seventhemaverick · 10 months
Text
Astro Observations 🌱
Disclaimer: This is my first Astrology post! I tried to do this earlier this year but tumblr lagged and it deleted all of my hard work lol. But now I’ve gained the courage to give it another go! I’m not a professional astrologer. I just study it in depth when I have time. Still very much a beginner. Please be kind and if I’m misinformed let me know! If you want to repost my work please credit me. This also has personal opinions in here don’t take it too seriously babes!
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🌾 I don’t typically think Leo’s and Scorpios go together romantically BUT any other relationship outside of that exudes power team. For ex: Kylie and Kris Jenner. Scorpios are known to love power and Leo’s love the spotlight! Kylie was bound to be a favorite after her « ugly duckling » phase. Kylie rolls in the dough and Kris keeps that empire going. I’ve seen many Scorpio parents with Leo kids and they really seem to love them the most lol
Let’s talk about underdeveloped placements real quick!
🌿 Having a parent that is toxic or underdeveloped and has placements that fall into your second house can obliterate your self worth. ESPECIALLY if you have planets in that house and their placements are exactly conjunct 0° or 1-3°.
🌾 If your mars sign is exactly square one of your parents mars or 1-5° orb… 🌚 take the steps to move out if you haven’t already it’s for the best.
🌿 Capricorn moons I wish I could hug all of you. You had to grow up so fast and got handed some of the worst cards. But nevertheless resilience is your middle name. As you age things will get easier if you stand on business! Integrity is key.
🌾 I know libras are known to be superficial or whatever and I’m kinda one of them lol. I literally live off of aesthetics and I typically have nice skin but when I have a massive break out? I literally want to hide until they’re gone. My stress is next level when I don’t look my best.. I’m also a Leo Venus 😅 in the tenth house at that and have cancelled plans when I look and feel shitty.
🌿 All of the air signs almost always value intellectual stimulation first from their partner. Someone they can have great rapport, banter with. Someone that’s witty and knows a wide variety of subjects or has many interests is very hot. Sagittarius is the air sign of the fire signs so I’ll loop them in on this too.
If we lost any zodiac element, it would bring chaos to the entire world.
🌾 Air brings logic and reasoning, water brings compassion and empathy, earth brings grounding and patience, fire brings passion and vitality. Life is about interconnectedness.
🌿 I remember reading a blog that the gods put the constellation of Libra in between Virgo and Scorpio because they were too much alike and it’s so true lol. Both signs can be so compulsive and it’s overwhelming from what I’ve heard from Virgo and Scorpio placements. I can also see this easy going equivalence being the case for Sagittarius being in between Scorpio and Capricorn. The benefics happy go luckies in between the malefics drained and over it.
🌾… moon 3rd house overlay is addictive especially combined with 7th/8th/12th overlays in that synastry. I don’t think I can ever do that again unless we both have it overlaying each others charts. Someone’s moon in your 3rd house, their mind fascinates you and it’s easy to communicate with them you feel seen and heard. You dream about them, you think about them all the freaking time. It is the most annoying thing because why are you taking up my brain space like that bro? I had this with someone and I still think about them it’s been over for quite some time now. Another person that’s in love with me, my moon falls into their 3rd house and they tell me how much they think about me and day dream about me. I had said issue of daydreaming with the other guy. 2/10 would not recommend unless moon person is developed.
🌿 When the moon transits your first house you’re more likely to be more emotional and make drastic changes to your physical features! When Doja Cat shaved her head the moon was transiting her first house and I literally did mine the next day when it was transiting my first house.
🌾 Opinion but I love Pisces placements they are so helpful and loving when developed. I think the underdeveloped ones are too but they expect something out of it where the developed ones are just really selfless. I’m a Pisces Stan! I have so many in my life lol I have no Pisces placements. My 5H is in Pisces lol
🌿 Degree theory is that gworl. It helps you relate to the planet and it’s placement more depending on what the degree rules. For example I was dating a Sagittarius Venus in the 9th house at the 9° and he embodied that free spirited nature of Sag Venus fr. Another example, you can be a Pisces Venus but it’s in your first house at the first degree and the way you love embodies a more aries way of loving. Fiery, passionate a bit aggressive but very deep and tender to the core.
🌾 I’ve also heard the theory of when you reach the age of certain degrees of the placements you have you unlock that placements characteristics. Something significant happens to you during that age or you might master that placement regarding the planet and house placement.
🌿 The degree of your rising sign is more than likely the age of something significant happen in your physical life/to you physically. This is tea y’all.
🌾 You most likely share placements or degrees in your chart with your siblings. My sister is a Scorpio sun, Aries rising, Virgo moon and I’m a Libra sun, Scorpio rising, Aries moon. If I was born two days earlier I would’ve been a Virgo sun and if she was born one or two days later she would’ve been a Libra moon. So I think thats pretty cool. We’re also both Venus dominant and she has a Libra stellium 💗. You really choose your family for your next life lol like that’s so crazy to me.
🌿 Ima say dis with my chest. STOP doing wrong by Saturn ruled placements!!! Saturn is ruled by Capricorn, Aquarius in traditional astrology and we cannot forget about its exalted sign in Libra. As a Libra, I receive karma with the quickness but also people that have done wrong by me their quality of life decreases and or whichever house Saturn is in their chart is deeply affected in the worst ways.. daddy Saturn don’t play bout his! Be fair and follow the golden rule. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
🌾 Having heavy Sagittarius placements in your chart makes you open to learn different languages or different cultures.. just always wanting to learn. Whatever house it’s in you want to master in life.
🌿 The mutables Gemini Virgo Sagittarius Pisces love their niches, they are the teachers and preachers of the zodiac.
🌾 Geminis have the gift of gab more than any other zodiac. Sagittarius could possibly go toe to toe with them
🌿 If anyone ever tries to degrade you for studying astrology and eggs you on to prove this practice to be true, get their birth info and read them their Chiron sign and house placement. Hit ‘em where it hurts!
🌾 Scorpio and Libra placements are usually the generational trauma breakers of their family. Honorable mention- Saturns children, Capricorn and Aquarius
🌿 An undeveloped Capricorn placement that enters your life is literally satan reincarnated to torture you for whatever you did wrong in your past life. And I (if u were raised around Christianity) believe Jesus was a Pisces/Aries! I can argue about this all day! In tarot Capricorn rules the devil! Like hellooooo
🌾 Sixth house/Virgo placements are pretty good at taking care of pets and plants. They feel the most sane around nature and animals.
🌿 Personal planets harmoniously aspected to Neptune make the person seem very angelic like. Very soft souls, earth angels. Hard aspects have people having an even more distorted projection of you.
🌾 Personal planets harmoniously aspected or not to Uranus gives you that shock factor some people will be repelled and some people will be very intrigued.
🌿 Aries placements especially sun and moon are really loyal! I’m talking mostly platonically. Once they see you as their person they are truly ride or die.
🌾 Cancer placements can be one of the most loving and giving when developed. Some spiteful mfs when underdeveloped omg.
🌿 I realize cancer placement women get treated with the cutest romantic gestures. I think they lovers want to do these things for them because they give off ethereal or princess vibes but they’re also real nasty in the sheets lol
🌾 Cancers don’t really get a bad rep even when they do shady things. For example: Selena Gomez when she dated Abel even tho she was cool with Bella was super weird. And I think a lot of people forgot how Kevin hart cheated on his wife like it was nothing lol. Ariana grande with the donuts and now the Ethan thing chileee. It’s like they get a second of backlash and then everyone adores them again lol.
🌿 Having a grand trine in your chart can make you so damn lazy in the houses those planets/figures are in 🥹🥲. It’s crazy cuz that talent(s) will come natural to you and you’ll over look it! Please don’t.
🌾 Grand squares are TOUGH but it pushes you to break cycles and overcome so much in your life. Same with t-squares
🌱 Astrology is really a map. It shows you which path you can take and where you can end up when you include discernment and discipline into your daily life. It’s never an excuse to behave the way you do. Ultimately it helps us reach our most aligned and enlighten self! I hope you all enjoyed. 🌱
Idk why I can’t figure out how to delete this question thing so let’s do a cute lil questionnaire!
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reallyhatethiswebsite · 2 months
Text
dark/cunty raphael, devils being devils (this has been done to death but i just wanted to write him being awful) once again thank you @pouralaura for your advice and encouragement you are the best
Read on AO3
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He wasn't supposed to be back yet.
He wasn't supposed to be back yet.
Tav panicked. Wide eyed, she pleaded with Hope's flickering apparition. “Are you sure?” She hissed. “Are you sure he's back?”
“YesyesYES can't you feel it?! He's home, the master is home and he brings blood and pain and death!” Hope shrieked. “I have to go, you have to go, we all have to go!”
“No, Hope, wait! I need your help!”
“I can't help you anymore,” the poor crazed thing said, coherent for this moment just to fix Tav with a sad, pitying look. “Just like you can't help me anymore. But thanks for trying. I'll remember it forever. He's going to hurt you and he's going to kill you and I'm sorry.”
Her phantom faded into nothing and Tav was left alone in the claustrophobic halls. Maybe she tripped a hidden alarm or ward. Maybe she simply took too long. All she knew was that, if Hope was right, she'd squandered likely the only chance she had of sneaking into Raphael's home and taking the hammer. And Hope was definitely right. Tav felt it. A change to the air. The wailing of souls muted, exhalated. 
He was here.
The plan had been very simple: her friends distract Raphael by pretending to consider and discuss his contract “behind her back”, and she heads to the diabolist to get a portal open, go in, steal the hammer, and leave. It was much easier to sneak a single person through, and Raphael would've been none the wiser. Only, she wasn't prepared enough for the House of Hope. She wasn't prepared for its namesake. She wasn't prepared for Raphael's dark, dirty secrets parading in her face. 
Gale called her ludicrous. Mad. Idiotic. And yet when she pressed him for a better option, for a way to keep the crown and save Orpheus from the Emperor's vile clutches, he came up empty. They were stretched thin, resources and resilience at their breaking points.
“Let it be me, then,” he'd said. “Let it be me who gets the hammer.”
“I'm a better sneak than you,” Tav had argued. She was willing to take the risk for him. So he could be free of Mystra, free of the orb. Free. He knew. He'd pressed their foreheads together, holding her close.
“Come back to me,” he'd whispered. “Promise you'll come back.”
Tav might not be able to deliver the hammer, but she could still escape. All she had to do was hide, and sneak back to her portal before Raphael found her. The house was so big, like a damn maze. Tav tried to remember where she'd come from, where she'd left her portal, but the gaudy halls and creepy gilded statues all looked the same. She thought she recognised the dining room from when he'd first brought her here so long ago, taunting her with the offer of aid. The table was covered in rotten food. Mutilated skeletons filled the seats. Shaken, Tav moved on.
Shit.
She caught sight of Raphael prowling the corridors outside, his expression stormy. He was still in his human guise, but his hellish fury bubbled just barely beneath the surface. Swallowing a sharp inhale before it gave her away, Tav tucked herself behind a pillar and prayed he hadn’t seen her.
“I know you're here, little mouse,” he rumbled, burning brown eyes scanning every nook and cranny. Tav bit her lip. Her stomach dropped. He exuded overwhelming diabolical power. Tav knew she stood no chance against him alone. “You must think me a dullard. Your friends show up at the Devil's Den without you, interested in a contract of all things when they were so staunchly against me before, and then I feel my wards breached telling me there is an intruder scurrying about my home…why, such coincidental timing. I wonder, who could be creeping around? What could they be looking for?”
In hindsight, the plan was never going to work. Of course he had wards everywhere. Of course he was too clever for their ruse. But they were desperate. Just as the devil promised they would be, by the end. Just the way he wanted them. All hope wasn't yet lost. If she could only escape…
“Did you think you could fool me? That any hair-brained schemes concocted in your simple, tadpole-addled minds would succeed? It's almost amusing, were it not so outrageous.” Raphael ranted. So verbose even in his anger. And yet, Tav could hear his liquid smile in the words he purred next. “How about this? For old times’ sake, for my most cherished client who never was… If you show yourself now and beg me well enough, I might make your death quick. But the longer you hide, the longer it takes for me to find you - and I will find you - the longer I'll spend peeling your pretty skin from your flesh.”
The devil was striding away, deeper into his house. Tav snatched the opportunity to dart out into the foyer. She remembered now, those big metal doors. Where Hope had first been waiting. Tav’s portal was behind them. Poor Hope. Rejuvenated by relief, Tav vowed to find a way to save her. Even if she had to storm the house again, with her team this time, and swing the cudgel of justice down on Raphael’s head. Smash his dirty devil brains out. She’d relish doing so. The doors were ajar. Tav slipped through. She could practically taste her safety. The grungy corrupted streets of Baldur’s Gate had never been so welcoming…
Except there was no portal.
For a moment she simply stood there in disbelief. Denial. A scorched circle on the marble floor was the lone indicator that a portal had ever existed in the first place. A taunting shadow. As she stared at nothing, the damned souls forever trapped - just like her - seemed to laugh. 
Despair. The likes of which Tav hadn’t felt since she awoke on the beach and realised everything that happened on the nautiloid wasn’t a bad dream. It crawled up her throat and threatened to make her scream. She stuffed the meat of her hand in her mouth and bit down. The pain grounded her. Panic wouldn’t help. There had to be other portals. Ones Raphael or his cronies used to get about in the material plane. She’d jump through one of them. It didn’t matter where she ended up; it would be easy enough to get back to Baldur’s Gate. She crept out into the halls again. A flash of red in the corner of her eye catapulted her into motion. She’d never been more aware of the noise her boots made, how heavy her footsteps were, how loud each panting breath was. She ran, crawled behind a big statue, and made herself as small as possible. 
“Come out, little mouse,” the devil crooned sweet poison from somewhere, his voice drifting through the empty spaces of his home, echoing off the walls and floors, impossible to ignore. “Come out come out, wherever you are…”
Fear bubbled in Tav’s churning  gut. Her heart pounded against her ribs in protest. In her ever-shrinking world of mind flayers, crazed cultists, monsters and apostles and madness, Raphael had been but a blip on her threat radar. She hadn’t given him much concern, or consideration. A mistake. One she might not live to rectify.
I’m sorry, Gale…
“It was bold of you to come here alone, you know. Bold, but so very foolish. I suppose you got the idea in your worm-eaten skull that you were faster than your companions. Stealthier. Or was it they who convinced you?” Raphael’s tone twisted, honed into a dagger aiming at a specific target. A soft target. “I wonder, did they do it because they really thought you might succeed? Or because they knew you wouldn’t? A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, after all…”
Tav chewed the inside of her cheek. Raphael, she’d learned, was very good at hurting people without even raising a finger. Words were weapons for him as much as his claws or infernal magics. She wouldn’t let him bait her.
Peering out of her spot, the coast was clear enough for Tav to risk moving. She thought about it. The devil was quiet, had been for a little while, either out of things to say - unlikely - or finally far away enough that she could no longer hear him. After another few moments of hesitation, Tav took the chance, flitting down an empty corridor. Prayed the next room she entered would hold something useful. 
She never made it.
As she rounded a corner, a hand shot out and snatched her by the hair. Thick fingers dug into her scalp, yanked her so harshly a joint in her neck popped. 
“Got you,” the devil snarled, right into her ear. Tav shrieked, instinctively scratching at Raphael’s hand. All it seemed to do was incense him further. 
“Let go of me!” She yelled.
“Oh, how the mouse squirms when it’s been caught,” Raphael intoned, low, almost sensual were it not for the bite of murder lingering in the depths. He manipulated her to look at him, so she could see the contempt and loathing on his handsome face. “But you aren’t a mouse, are you? No. You’re a rat. Just like your little friends.”
“Did you hurt them?!” The pain of her hair being pulled at the roots made tears bead at the corners of Tav’s eyes. She fought to regain her footing. Glared at Raphael anyway.
“And what would you do if I had?” The devil jeered. He released her hair, only to close his fist around her throat instead. “No, no. Despite your collective stupidity, someone still needs to clean up the mess that is the netherbrain. Although I don’t imagine they have much chance of success after this…” Raphael squeezed her throat harder. Claws dug pinpricks into her skin as he let his rage change him, shed his human disguise. He shook her, easily lifting her from the ground so her legs dangled, black and orange eyes ferocious. “You had every opportunity to accept my deal. It was fair. The hammer for the crown. An artefact you cannot even hope to use or understand, for the only chance you had to free yourself from the Emperor. To free Orpheus. And yet you’ve chosen to spit in my face despite my patience, my clemency. Why?” 
Tav gagged, struggled to speak around her crushing windpipe. Black spots began to dance at the edges of her vision. The devil loosened his grip enough so she could answer. His pride demanded it. “You…the crown should…go to Mystra. For Gale. He spoke to her. She said…said she could fix him, get rid of the orb if…if he…the crown…” Tav broke off, coughing, choking, gasping for air. Her tears finally spilled over, dripping down her cheeks.
“You’ve done this for Gale?” Raphael seethed with peculiar jealousy. He dropped her, watched her stumble. Then he laughed; a cruel, sharp sound that went on for too long. “If you truly believe your precious wizard intends to return the crown to his cantankerous trollop ex-lover instead of using it for himself, then you are more naive and gullible than I ever imagined.”
Tav scowled, rubbing her neck. “He promised,” she rasped. “He…”
“He promised,” the devil mocked. “Oh yes, I’m sure he did. I’m sure he meant it.”
“He wouldn’t lie! He’s never lied to me!”
Raphael tilted his horn-crowned head. Stared at her like she was an idiot. “Hasn’t he?” 
Just like before, Raphael was aiming for her soft spots - but this time, this one, was already bruised. He was right. Gale had lied. About the orb, about his feelings for Mystra, even about abandoning his desire to ascend. The first thing he’d done when he learned the true nature of the crown was consider how he could take advantage of it. Not the behaviour of a man changed. But Tav had faith in him. Believed in him. Her niggling doubts meant nothing. 
“No.” She said in defiance. Ignored the way her weak voice wobbled. “You’re just trying to poison me against him. You don’t understand anything.”
“Don’t I?” Raphael crooned, viciously amused. “I think it’s you who doesn't understand. Let me put it this way, so that even you can comprehend: why would a power-hungry magelet with a chip on his shoulder abandon decades of ambition for some little bint he found on the roadside, when he could have hundreds – thousands of warm and willing holes to wet his cock with if he becomes a so-called god? Do you think you’re worth that sacrifice? Does Gale think you are? I’m sure he says lots of sweet things when he’s inside you, just as I’m sure he said the same things to Mystra, and we all know how that worked out…”
“Stop,” Tav begged. Sobbed. 
“No,” the devil sneered. Utterly merciless. “It’s high time you faced the reality of your actions. You have doomed a future for the githyanki free from tyranny, you have doomed your friends’ chance to escape the emperor’s machinations, and you have doomed yourself, sweet pet, to reap what you sow – all for the sake of a man who rolled over you because you were the first woman in years to say yes. You wanted to enter my house without permission? Fine. Then you’ll stay for eternity.”
She recoiled in horror, the implication making her blood run cold. She’d rather he killed her and he knew it. “You can’t keep me here!”
“I think you’ll find I can, girl,” Raphael said, malicious, quiet. His gaze flayed her alive, peeled away layers of skin and muscle to stare at her very soul. “For in this house, in this pocket of Hell, I am the master, and that means I can do whatever I want.”
A sick, bitter pill to swallow: he was right.
“Fine!” Tav laughed maniacally, the futility of the situation driving her to reckless anger. “Fine, you evil bastard! I suppose you’ll have a pet squid soon, then. Have you always wanted one of those? Was it a boyhood dream, if you were a boy once? I hear ink stains are a bitch to get out of silk rugs.” As soon as she said it, Tav wished she had kept her mouth shut. She’d done everything wrong since entering that portal. Everything. Raphael’s shrewd hellish eyes narrowed as he considered something. Tav watched him raise his fingers, ready to snap, with dawning horror; if he did this, she wouldn’t just be stuck with him forever. She would owe him forever. A fate so much worse. “No! Wait! You don’t – I’m sure I won’t transform! It’s different in Hell, right?!” 
“I’d rather not take the chance,” Raphael murmured, enjoying this moment of despair. “I’m not too fond of tentacles, you see. And besides…I promised I could be your saviour, didn’t I? Even though you hardly deserve it, I'm nothing if not magnanimous, after all.”
CLICK. 
Such a small sound heralding a monumental, irreversible change.
Agony. The likes of which Tav couldn’t comprehend. Her skull splitting apart, bursting from the inside, her brains chewed up and spat out, eyes and teeth and tongue destroyed, sinuses burning…it only lasted for a few brief seconds, maybe, but the next thing she knew she was on her hands and knees. Frothy blood and bile oozed from her nose and mouth. Her body shook violently. Her head felt like it was full of water. She wasn’t sure, but she might have pissed herself a little bit. She stared up at the devil through bleary wet eyes and saw him watching her. Savouring her suffering. Floating in his palm was her tadpole, sluggish and covered in gore. Covered in her brains. 
“Hmmm…I suppose I could have used less force for the extraction,” Raphael mused, unapologetic. He squinted at the ugly cosmic horror larva with disdain. “I was led to believe these things were near-impossible to remove. Clearly not. Such weak magic. That worthless boy still has a lot to learn.” He curled his fingers inward and the tadpole caught fire, writhing and screaming as it died. Rendered to ash. Then he smiled at Tav, placid, almost business-like, as if he hadn’t just up-ended her entire existence. Her suffering had greatly improved his mood. “There we are. Now you won’t have to worry about those lovely guts of yours dissolving any time soon. Not before I get to sample them, at least.”
“I’d rather be a mind flayer,” Tav slurred quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt hollow. Without that tadpole – as awful as it had been – she couldn’t reach her friends or even the emperor to beg for help. She knew they were pragmatic. They would stick to the plan, even Gale. They’d realise something went wrong and cut their losses. Poor Orpheus. She’d known the risk, being the one breaking in. Made certain they wouldn’t risk storming this infernal psycho’s little castle to rescue her, not when the elder brain was so unstable and they were so close to vanquishing the Absolute cult, but at least pretending it was an option would’ve given her something to hold onto. 
“And ruin that delightful complexion of yours? Perish the thought.” The devil reached to wrap one big paw around her forearm and tugged her upright. Tav was too weak to pull away. She barely stayed on her feet. The room and everything in it swayed. Until it was forced to stop by his hot clawed hand holding her jaw firm. Raphael’s image swam into focus. He gently turned her head this way and that. He was examining her; examining his new property. His new trophy. “Can’t fault the magelet’s taste. You are a pretty little thing. And now you’re my pretty little thing.”
He pushed his thumb into her mouth. She could taste the sulphur and hellish magic even over the copper sticking to her gums and teeth. She bit him, tried to, but Raphael wasn’t phased. He dug his thumb claw into her tongue instead, pressing until he pierced the muscle, until Tav cried out. Fresh blood welled from the small puncture wound.
“Behave,” the devil simply said, like he was talking to a naughty puppy. 
“Never,” Tav spat. Raphael seemed to like that answer, if the sparkle in his eyes and his rich chuckle were any indication. 
“Oh, you’ll learn, my little pet. One way or the other.” He dragged his thumb out of her mouth, smearing blood and spit across her lips. His pupils expanded as he looked upon her. He found this arousing, Tav realised, more repulsed than she’d ever been in her life. 
“You make me sick,” she hissed. 
“You have no idea just how sick I could truly make you,” he purred around a sinister smile, “but we have all the time in the world for that, don’t we? Thanks to you, I’ve got a lot more work to do now. Plans to tweak, contingencies to set up, that sort of thing. I don’t expect you to understand, but unfortunately it means I won’t be able to break you in quite yet. But fret not, you shan’t be alone. Haarlep can keep an eye on you until I return.”
Tav didn’t get the chance to ask what a Haarlep was. Raphael displaced them both into the boudoir. So sudden, and she was still so unsteady. She’d have fallen on her face if Raphael wasn’t holding her. Instead she leaned on him until her vision stopped spinning. He chuckled cruelly. 
“Not to worry, love. I’ve got you.”
Tav yanked herself free – he let her go this time – and staggered away from him, collapsing onto the big bed nearby. She wasn’t the only one sprawled on those red silk sheets; a creature that looked like Raphael but softer, younger, and dressed much skimpier, lounged. He perked up with interest, peering at her. Two of them…Tav truly was in Hell.
“What’s this?” The lookalike asked in a perfect, if airy, imitation of Raphael’s voice. 
“A new pet. Clean her up. And don’t do anything else or you’ll be skinned and hung out to dry like Nubaldin. I mean it, Haarlep.” 
Another click of those devilish fingers and Raphael was gone. Haarlep crawled across the bed like a huge, nasty cat, eyeing Tav up and down.
“Hmm…not quite breeding stock, but I suppose you’ll do.” He pawed at her. “Come on, then. Get up.”
“Take your hands off me!” Tav cringed away, drooling pinkish red froth. “I’ll kill you, I swear it.”
Haarlep tutted, amused. “You couldn’t kill a mouse right now, little pet. And I don’t need your compliance to get you off this bed. There are many ways, and I can’t promise you’ll enjoy all of them…”
The suggestion in his voice made Tav grit her bloodied teeth. Her skin crawled. “You’re just as twisted as Raphael, aren’t you?”
Haarlep cackled. “Oh no, sweet thing. I’m much worse.”
Tav ended up in the luxurious bathing pool, only after Haarlep callously pulled her clothes and armour off, telling her she should get used to it because the concept of her privacy no longer existed. The steaming water seemed to heal her physical injuries, easing the savage pain in her skull, but that simply meant she had more cognizance to think about how awful her situation really was. Her attempt at drowning herself was thwarted by a heavy clawed hand pulling her head out of the water by her hair. They seemed to like doing that, these fiends.
“Now, now. Don’t make me charm you,” Haarlep chided as Tav coughed and sputtered. “As funny as it would be for my brat to come back to a floating corpse, he obviously doesn’t want you dead yet, and I’d rather not be flayed. It’s not as erotic as those priests of pain make it out to be, trust me.”
“Fuck you,” Tav spat, digging her nails into Haarlep’s hand. He didn’t seem to feel it. Just like his master. A fly biting a dragon.
“In due time, lovely. In due time. Now…do you prefer red or gold?”
Like an overzealous child with a new doll, Haarlep stuffed Tav into a gold silken house robe – sheer, reaching just above her knees, thin enough that her nipples were easy to see. By this point she was despondent, allowing him to pull her this way and that. When he deemed her “good enough” he grew bored of her and went back to lounging on the bed. Tav wandered the boudoir aimlessly, not really seeing anything, until she found herself on a balcony overlooking the destitute landscape of Avernus from a great height. The House of Hope must be floating somewhere, she thought absently. Isolated even in Hell. If she jumped, Tav wondered how long she’d be falling before she hit the ground and what kind of mess she’d leave behind.
“Don’t even think about it,” Haarlep cheerfully called to her. 
Tav slid to the ground, buried her face in her knees, and wept. 
-
Time passed differently, strangely, in Hell. Tav existed in a fugue state of misery, unable to be sure. Days, weeks, months could have passed since she failed to steal from Raphael; since Raphael stole her. Almost all of it had been spent in the boudoir, an incubus and cambion her keepers both. 
She sat on the balcony when Raphael came to her, as she often did. Passing the minutes, hours, staring out at Avernus. The devil had been away for a while. He smelled of fresh air, of the material plane, taunting her with what she’d never experience again. He seemed strangely pleased despite all his plans going awry. “I thought you might like to know that your friends destroyed the brain,” he told her as he poured himself some wine. “Baldur’s Gate – and Faerun as a whole, is saved.”
At least that was a relief. 
“And you should also know that Gale decided to use the crown of Karsus to ascend. I believe he is now calling himself the god of ambition…how very droll.” Although Tav had come to accept this was a likely outcome, the information still sank like a rock in her stomach; of course, the devil wasn’t done. “I had thought he might come knocking at my door, threatening to smite me should I not release your soul, but…it seems your darling has forgotten about you, pet. Much more interesting things to do now that he’s reached the Heavens, I would imagine.”
Tav bit her tongue. Hope truly came to these cursed halls to die. Snuffed out before it had a chance to unfurl, but she wouldn’t give this wretch the satisfaction of knowing she was upset. 
“So…what are you going to do, then? The crown is completely out of your reach.” She thought that would sting him. An acknowledgement of his own failure. Of a dream ruined. If he lashed out, all the better, because she’d know she’d got under his skin. Small (miniscule) victories. 
“Hmm…for now,” he hummed. He swirled the wine in his goblet as he spoke. “You see, I came to quite an interesting realisation. Had you honoured the deal, I could have taken the crown and ascended to Archdevil Supreme. Yes, I could have conquered the Hells and perhaps moved on to other realms to unite under my power, but there would have always been a place I simply couldn’t reach.”
“The heavens…” Tav breathed in slow, horrifying realisation. Raphael smiled widely, dark eyes glittering. 
“Yes, very good. Right where your little godlet is now. The very place he will eventually destroy. Just like Karsus, Gale Dekarios’ hubris will ruin him. Unlike Karsus, Gale will bring the heavens down with him, and when he does, who shall be there to gleefully sift through the ashes but I? You see, I will get the crown, my dear, sweet pet. All I have to do is wait.” He reached forward, tucking a lock of Tav’s hair behind her ear. His touch deceptively tender. Like a lover. “I should thank you, in fact. If you hadn’t broken into my home, it’s likely you would have convinced Gale to give the crown to Mystra, and then it truly would have been beyond my grasp. But without your voice of reason and support, well…old habits die hard, don’t they? I must say, I’m looking forward to the day the heavens crumble. The collapse of Karsus’ empire was breathtaking, but this…oh, this will be something else entirely. And don’t worry, pet. Whether it happens in one hundred years or one thousand, I’ll make sure you’re there to see it, too.”
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priceyprice · 22 days
Text
Prof!Price
"No."
"Please!"
"I said no." She passed her hands through her hair, feeling frustrated that her lover wouldn't listen to her.
Professor Price was sitting behind his desk at his home, grading some work he was going to do in the university, but decided to bring it to his apartment. His glasses were low on his nose, his face was serious, and the floor lamp that decorated the corner of his office was dimly on, giving him an intimidating aura. Everyone who looked at him for the first time would've been intimidated just by his presence.
Everyone except his lover, of course.
The same one that's standing at the other side of his desk, asking a favor. "Please, I need you to do a reposition to my class for the last quiz."
"Why?" He said without looking away from the papers he was holding.
"Because my grade wasn't good!" She said, pointing at herself. Price just lets out a bitter laugh, finding that comment funny.
Sometimes, she forgets who's she's talking with.
Sighing, he dropped the papers on his desk and finally met her eyes. His heart skipped for a second, seeing how beautiful she was with his white shirt and some shorts. Her damp hair was a clear example of what they were doing and the reason why Price was doing that paperwork so late at night.
"Love, I know all your grades by heart. Your last quiz was perfect. " He said, taking off his glasses and intertwining his fingers on top of his crossed legs as his back rested against his chair.
"I... I know, but still I-..."
"Are you doing this for you or your friend?" Her mouth closed into a thin line as she started to feel the embarrassment creep up to her cheeks. Price sighed again when he immediately picked up why she was asking him that.
He pushes his rolling chair backward, making space between him and his desk as he tapped his broad thigh with his palm. "Come here, love."
With short steps, she gets closer to him until she is just in front of his legs. Her hands were together, fingers fidgeting with themselves thanks to the nerves. Price slides a hand to her lower back and pushes her down until she's sitting on his lap with her legs on either side of his thighs.
He tried to look into her eyes, but she was looking everywhere except his. She didn't have the balls to look at him after he caught her true intentions.
Price placed his fingers under her chin, caressing her skin softly, feeling the little bump of a tiny scar she had there from a long time ago. "Love... look at me." He said, putting more pressure on her chin to make her look at him.
Slowly, she raised her eyes to his, finally meeting his icy blue orbs. "Don't ever try to hide your beautiful eyes from me."
She swallowed.
"Relax, darling. I'm not mad at you for that request. You know I don't have any problems changing my methods of studying or making things easier for you, it's just... We're talking about your friend...and you may know her, but I don't. And I don't want you to go this length for her and then later put you in trouble."
His voice was calm and tender to her, with nothing but the purpose of making her understand his point. He could do it without any complaints. His lover could ask him to fail everyone in the university, and he will do so without any explanation.
But this is another case.
Price doesn't know if it's just because she's his lover, and that's one of the basic things a couple has, or because he's much older than her (even though she's an adult), but he has this feeling of protection everytime he's around her. That strange sensation to keep her under his wing because there's people with bad intentions, and they want to tarnish her pure and bright soul.
He doesn't know if her friend knows about their relationship. She could be using his lover to get better grades.
"Oh... I didn't think about that. B-But... She's a really good friend! I may not talk to her a lot, or we haven't been going out with a few friends, but she helped me a lot with other classes. S-So I thought I could help her this time even if it's anonymously..." She explained, feeling a little nervous under those shiny blue eyes.
His hand went under her shirt on her lower back, feeling the softness of her skin. He just stared at her for a few seconds, thinking.
"Does she know we're in a relationship?"
She shakes her head sideways with a few strands of hair falling in front of her face in the process. His hand softly grasped those strands and put it in the back of her ear, caressing it softly after. "Are you sure, Love? I don't want to find out later that she's using you to get better grades."
"I swear, John. No one knows about us."
He looked into her eyes, trying to read her. She wouldn't lie to him that easy. He knows her better than she knows herself. He has memorized every single detail of her, every single thing she likes, she hates, and her expressions. She was telling the whole truth.
Price sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a second. "Okay... I'll do it for you. I will give the class another chance to take the quiz and give them the option to choose the quiz that has a better score."
A big smile grew on her face, making him grow a little one on his lips. She quickly passed her arms around his neck and hid her face, giving him a tight hug. "Thank you so much! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
He lets out a little laugh, tightening his grip on her and giving her a kiss on her scalp.
She has him wrapped around her pretty little finger.
And he knows it.
[Prof!Price Masterlist here]
223 notes · View notes
bucknastysbabe · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Exhibitionism, infidelity, Aegon’s a dick in this one but it’s bc he’s Insecure, voyeur-ish, oral f!receiving, Criston Lives To Serve Women, one-sided feelings, doggy-style, pnv!sex, multiple orgasms, it Appears Mr. Cole is being Used but nah she wants to crawl inside his armor, BI AEGON RIGHTS!!!!
A/N: This was alternately labeled ‘Mr. Criston dicks down’
Criston dragged Aegon’s limp form into the bed, carelessly throwing the stinking wretch into the fine bedding. Once again picked up from a night out, the knight had received a tip from a gold cloak that your idiot husband was getting fucked with the curtains opened, the blonde’s loud moans and pink prick on display for all to see on the Street of Silk.
Aegon mumbled and rolled on his side, covering his face with a pillow, snoring within seconds. You could still see the slick stains on the seat of his ass and frowned. He’d take cocks before he drank enough to take you. You held your arms around your robed waist and murmured, “Thank you Ser.” You couldn’t bear laying back down beside him. Misery wafted off you in waves.
Criston remained silent, presence looming, warm leather sliding along the bared crook of your neck. The brunette thumbed at the rigid muscles at the base of your skull— always drawn tight. You feebly moaned, falling back into his intimate embrace. His other hand possessively splayed across your waist to your stomach, fingertips tightening just-so.
The knight murmured, “He’s so much easier like this. I can feel you relaxing already.”
Your shoulders were unbearably tense. Criston moved his other hand to clamp down on your tender muscles. It was a pleasant feeling, warm pressure aided by softened leather. His familiar scent engulfed you, the man nosing at your hair and inhaling.
Lulled from your lover’s warm hands and presence you whispered, “He dishonors me. My entire family.” Criston dug the heels of his palms into your muscles, earning another helpless moan. The knight growled, “I know sweetling. I know”, his grip tightened, “I thought about leaving the sot and taking you in this bed all night. He’s like a poison vine, crawling atop everything, leaving it’s mark.”
You turned up to look at Criston’s thinned lips, thick brows furrowed and dark eyes boring into Aegon. You reached up to caress a stubbled cheek, soften his raging frustrations. He let out a deep breath, the leather vice on your body loosening.
Cautiously you turned further, now facing your dear knight. He looked upset still, swearing, “He has no shame. No cares. Fucking fool, as much as I cared and loved for the boy.” Now your smaller hands held his tanned face, catching those dark orbs, immediately softening upon your gaze.
“Do not fret Criston, you’ve eased the burn, burdened what you did not have to. I’m blessed to have you in my arms.
The brunette swallowed thickly, emotions welling. He croaked, “I’d never not stand against who dishonors the future queen. All of those limping lordlings can attest to that. I’m blessed further to have you, Princess. I’ll take your burdens until I leave this world.”
He leant down to take your lips, gentle and kind. Your palms snuck up into his pretty curls, lightly tugging and scratching his scalp. Criston sighed against your breath, tongues dancing in an experienced form. His big hands made slow circles from your waist, hips, to ass. The white knight kneaded at the softer flesh, groaning your name.
Only the sound of Aegon’s drunken snoring intertwined with your heightening breath and soft sighs of pleasure. You asked against his moist lips, eyes fervent, “Take me, I need you love.” Dark brown sought your own, Criston’s eyes moving to and fro. He eyed the defiled Aegon and nodded briskly.
“If he awakes, this could go very wrong my princess,” he murmured with a worried gaze.
“If he awakes I hope he feels dishonored as I have been. He’d probably think it was a dream.”
The blonde actually had no clue. He was too self-absorbed, laughed off the japes about the white knight over his wife, under the bed. Aegon would laugh, “I think the sot still burns over my cunt sister, how tragic. The bastards might’ve been his.” He’d eye you, lips pouting, body stiff, “Afraid you and the ‘Realms Delight’ have little in common. I think he likes a little fire.”
Criston physically flipped you out of the horrid memory. Your upper body was pinned to the bed, eyes gazing up at those bite-swollen lips and messy white hair. You wanted him to hurt, just as you and your lover had. Turning your head to face the Dornishman you undid the robe and lay bare to his gaze now, always undone by the look of reverence.
“Gods, you’re so beautiful, let me have a taste first? Please princess?,” he begged, eyes shiny and wide, desperation pitching his voice. You nodded assent, mouth falling open as his perfect lips kissed your rapidly swelling cunt. He moaned into you, gloves carelessly tossed by now, calloused fingers brushing your soft skin.
He gripped at your thighs while lapping up to that precious bundle, stubble scraping against delicate skin. You writhed backwards, crying out softly and grabbing a handful of thick curls. “C-Criston, oh, ha!”
He’d slipped two big fingers inside a now-weeping cunt, wet mouth suckling at your button. The man had to hold a hip to keep you down, shaking apart at the seams. You were whimpering and yanking at his hair, cunny shivering and twitching around Criston’s crooked fingers— lazily beckoning your orgasm to make its way down.
He shoved a third finger in and flicked the hood of your bud, once, twice, then in rapid succession with an expert tongue. Now you didn’t even hold back the wail, finishing messily on your lover’s face. He groaned and lapped, purring little praises, big hands still kneading trembling flesh. You wanted more, now, let your dear Criston consume you.
He huffed a laugh when you slowly hiked a leg up, then another, exposing your puffy core to him. Criston breathed against your skin, a lilt to his tone, “Are you needy sweetling? Need my cock while your fool husband is sleeping in the same bed?” He snickered while getting up to loosen his breeches and some outer armor.
“I wonder if he’s even moved? I had a better view than you, my princess.”
You sneered over your shoulder, “Lucky you, hm?”
Criston grinned as he eased one knee onto the bed, hand guiding his heavy cock forward. You whined again, the blunt tip practically a tease. Reaching backwards with a grunt you pulled his hips flush to your ass. There was a dull slap, your cry of ecstasy, Criston’s winded ‘fuck!’
He smacked your ass and growled, “Not needy, ravenous,” he pressed his warm body to your back, “absolutely ravenous.” You nodded in jerks, skin erupting into a sweat, goosebumps up and down your bared skin. Criston’s sculpted lips kissed and mouthed against your nape, winding your hair around his left hand.
You stuttered weakly, “C-come on my l-love, s’full.”
He grinned against your skin, shoving his lean hips forward. The knight murmured in a teasing lilt, “Mhm dove? Feel how much I desire you? How you drive me insane? I’ll ruin you for any other— including that one.”
He punctuated the end of the sentence with a pointed thrust, jerking your head upwards to stare at Aegon’s puffy face. He was still out, twitching a bit. You mewled, “You already have, take me- take me!” Keeping tanned skin plastered to your own, he fucked you rough and quick.
You had no time to adjust— grunts and cries forced out by his ever-moving cock. The brunette’s right hand held your waist, crooking your back for a better angle. He still had your head facing Aegon, gloating in the debauchery in front of your husband’s face.
You bucked back onto the familiar girth, whining your white knight’s name. He didn’t let up, abusing your already sensitive cunt. Although still were a bit tender from earlier, the burn was exquisite. Your hands wrenched in the bedspread were ordered by your lover to grope at your tits, play around with an overused clit.
He panted into your ear, “Such a good sweetling, s-sucking me in, keep it up.”
You turned to meet his lips, sloppily mashing your mouth against his. Criston whined deep in in his chest, opening up to drag his tongue across yours. It was a messy affair, the pair of you too busy chanting litanies of sweet names between swears. His hips began to drag into disjointed little grinds, Criston’s pretty eyes scrunching tight.
He begged against your drooling lips, “C’mon- haaah- c’mon.” He helplessly gasped and jerked into your tightening cunt. You nodded, eyes lidded and hazy, promising, “I’m right there, oh my love, my sweetheart.” Reaching up to caress his stubbled cheek you looked forward. Criston was whining softly against your face with his eyes closed and mouth agape, so lovely, the picture of erotic pleasure.
Aegon’s violet eyes were a different story. They were open in shock, staring dead on. His plush lips opened, closed, opened— gaping like a fish. At that moment Criston struck gold and you seized with a high cry, wailing your lover’s name. The orgasm that hit you was extra sweet layered with self-satisfaction.
Criston stuttered, “O-oh gods, gods, fuckyesyesyes, I’m coming for you, yes!” He shoved his face into the crook of your neck, pretty nose mashed into your skin as he moaned long and whorish. You gasped, grinning, cooing, “That’s it my love, fill me up, yes, good boy.”
Aegon’s plush lips wobbled, his face blotchy with something. Did he really expect you to cry and wait for his attention all this time? The knight beside and inside you came to, lashes fluttering. He laughed, “You’re dreaming princeling, go back to sleep.”
The blonde croaked, “But she’s mine.” He was dumbfounded, still drunk out of his mind. Tears gathered in those Valyrian eyes. You couldn’t help but giggle at Criston’s ploy. Purring with satisfaction you added, “Roll over fool, you’ll wake up with a pounding head and a wife that doesn’t fuck your Kingsguard. Although she dreams of it.”
Aegon looked lost and sad but did so, rolling over and away from you two. Criston laid a possessive peck on your cheekbone, snickering, “Didn’t think he’d get all weepy about it.” You shrugged and replied, “Good. If he wasn’t such a brat I wouldn’t play this off. Need you too much.”
The brunette grinned easily, nosing against you. He rasped, “True. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up dove.” He slid out with a hiss and the pair of you got quickly dressed— lest Aegon awaken again. You sent off the sweet knight with one more kiss, him escorting you to your separate chambers for the night. You wouldn’t sleep next to the drunk sot.
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“Would you fuck Cole if you had the chance?,” Aegon asked abruptly during breakfast. It was just the two of you, the prince requesting a private audience. You raised a brow while nibbling on cheese, humming, “Why would you ask that? I’m sworn to you.”
He frowned, sagging into his chair, eyes rimmed and red. He muttered, “Had a strange dream, you were fucking Cole in our bed last night.” You laughed, a sudden burst. The prince hissed, “It wasn’t a joke, nor very pleasant. He’s a dumb dog, loyal to whoever throws a bone.”
You replied, “He’s merely chivalrous. Pretty face. Shame he’s common-born.” Aegon scoffed, biting into his meal.
“You’ll have no one but me,” he stated.
“Of course, husband dearest. You do love to remind me of that,” you said absently.
Aegon leveled you with a look, an attempt to intimidate. All you saw was fear. The prince’s crippling fear of being alone. Oh. It felt so good. You hoped next time he doesn’t fully wake up.
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norman-fucking-reedus · 5 months
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HE ATE MY HEART!
“I love that girl”
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gif by @corvidcrossbow
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IM SO FUCKING EXCITED TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO POST ON HERE AND ALSO TO POST SOMETHING TO THIS SONG
Vamp!Daryl has rotted not only my brain but the community. I am not sorry at all for the plague I'm spreading and I hope that it only gets worse.
So I've been doing some research on it, and I really like the idea of mixing the Blade universe w TWD, I did some more research on the different types of vampires (its kind of a lot so if you want you can go read abt them here!) To basically summarize, there's people, daywalkers (half vamp-people), walkers, full vampires, and then Revenants (half-walker half vampire, basically just another way to die)
This also makes it easier for whenever Scud becomes my next vampy victim
AUUUGH I NEED MY HOT SEXY NEEDY VAMPIRE MAN WHO JUST WANTS TO DRINK ALL MY BLOOD SOMEONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING PLEASE
also I am working on reqs yes I am, I have one scud fic that is dirty and nasty and should be getting posted soon. also I may not be on tumblr as much as I used to be because GUYS I am now employed yes that's right I got off my computer, went outside, interacted with people, and got a job #gangshit
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It had been over a week since Daryl had eaten, and over two since he had left to go out on the community's monthly supply run.
As he stumbled through the opening gates, he felt like he had been through a war. His body was wracked with exhaustion, weakness, and hunger. The air was thick with the strong scent of blood, and he couldn't keep himself from groaning painfully when he was bombarded by Carol and Rick asking where he had been, what had taken so long, and if he was alright.
“No! M’not alright dammit” He barked at them in frustration after being asked for the third time if he was alright, his voice laced with irritation and discomfort. Carol couldn't help but notice his pale and clammy appearance.
Her forehead creased into a frown as she tightly pursed her lips, giving Daryl a scolding look that made him uneasy. With a tone of concern, she asked, "I'm worried. When was the last you fed?"
The man's face twisted in discomfort as Rick and Carol stood in his space. He scoffed and muttered, "Not recently, m'fuckin' starvin'" The longer he stayed, the more his head spun and his vision blurred, causing the corners of his eyes to fade into a deep red color. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he could feel his teeth starting to ache.
Rick observed Daryl's malnourished skin, staring at how he was almost transparent. His eyes were screwed shut as the sun harshly burned his sensitive orbs, and he was gripping the strap of his crossbow so hard that his fingers were starting to turn red.
"You should go see Y/n," Rick said, eyes fixed on his friend. "She should be back home and she's been asking about you. I think she misses you." Daryl's body tensed at the sound of your name, and a sudden chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. He tried to hide his reaction, but Rick's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing.
Daryl's head drooped weakly as he could only manage a feeble nod. Rick and Carol had stepped off to the side for him, offering their silent support. Carol placed her hand gently on his shoulder, her grey hair falling across her face as she did so. Rick, with his stern expression, gave Daryl a look that he knew meant there was no room for argument.
His senses were already heightened to an extreme level, almost at an overload as the sun was abnormally bright, blazing down on him with a blinding intensity, making it difficult for him to even keep his eyes open. He could feel the heat searing his skin, causing beads of sweat to form on his forehead and trickle down his face. He noticed the way that his vest rubbed uncomfortably against him, the fabric clinging to his skin and making him feel sticky and irritable. His already aching teeth began to grind down against each other, and he could feel his razor-sharp fangs digging into the tender skin of his bottom lip, further fueling his pure discomfort.
Each step he took in the direction of your house was tiring and heavy, his dirty, muddy boots slapping against the ground as he dragged himself through the streets, promptly ignoring any strange or judgy looks that were thrown his way. He didn't have the time, let alone the strength to even bother paying them any mind. His stomach churned as his overwhelmed nose couldn't help but pick up the sickeningly sweet smell of blood.
It forced him to quicken his pace, trying to get just as far away from the public eye as he possible could. He didn't want to be looked at, didn't want to be stared at. He just wanted to get inside as soon as fucking possible and just tear off all his goddamn clothes. A ping of hope struck through him when he could see your familiar house only a short distance down the road, having to hold himself back from flat-out sprinting the rest of the way there.
Though it was only about a thirty-second walk, it had been the longest in his whole entire life, and walking up the small steps of your porch was like something out of a nightmare. He could disgustingly feel the material change in flooring when he stepped off the pavement and onto the creaky wood, the sound grating against his now way too-sensitive ears. Dear god, would someone fucking help him already?
Of course, as if on cue, the red front door to your house swung open, but instead of being met with a friendly face, he was met with the barrel of your gun.
"Daryl?" You questioned as you lowered the weapon slightly, a smile stretching across your lips once you had confirmed who was standing and dicking around on your porch. "Daryl!" You fully dropped your defensive position, stuffing the weapon in the band of your pants as you prepared to throw yourself at the man, halting when you finally took in his ruined appearance.
His breathing was labored, and it was hard to keep himself upright on his own two legs, forcing him to lean against the wall by the door. "Hey doll"
You scoffed at him in disbelief, "Don't you dare even "hey doll" me, mister! What the hell happened to you? Get in here right now" Grabbing the front of his vest and pulling his heavy body inside, Daryl groaning as each movement caused pain to his body, slumping against the door when you slammed it shut.
He couldn't be happier when he felt you prying the buttons of his stupidly itchy vest off, him shrugging it off as well as his crossbow, clattering down on the floor and probably chipping the metal further.
"Jesus Daryl, you look fucking terrible. Did you feed on anything at all out there?" You purse your lips as you analyze and checked his unnaturally pale chest, letting out a surprised hiss at the burn lingering on your fingers tips from where you had brushed them against the skin of his shoulder
Daryl groaned as you directed him to sit on the couch, the short steps from the front door already leaving him utterly winded, almost dripping in sweat as he wheezed each breath of air.
“‘Wasn’t much… ‘wasn’t much out there” He spoke breathlessly, head spinning and his stomach loudly churning when you stood in front of him.
When you extended a hand out to cup his face, he tightly gripped your wrist with a shaky hand. “Don’. Please don’” He didn’t want to feed from you, not like this, not in a state where he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t absolutely drain you.
“Daryl” You whispered softly, frowning slightly as you started taking your shirt off, and he wanted to scream at your stubbornness.
You straddled his lap and gently brushed the hair sticking to his forehead off, his blue eyes starting to tint red as the smell of your blood was strong, right in his face. “I don’ wanna”
“I know you don’t sweetheart, but you’ll die. What am I gonna do if you die?” You cupped his face, forcing his gaze onto yours. He whimpered slightly at your touch, his whole body sensitive and reactive.
Daryl shivered when you combed fingers through his hair, hands curling around your hips when you directed his head to your neck. “I trust you, more than I even trust myself” You whispered soothingly into his ear, and he almost wanted to cry.
He could smell the blood coursing through you like it was a burning candle, and his mouth was uncontrollably watering. His fangs were sharp and heavy, aching with the need to sink into your skin, which is exactly what he did, groaning against you at the first drops of blood, not wasting against another second before he was greedily taking mouthfuls.
It was so good, so warm and fresh, sweet and bitter. Daryl had drank lots of blood before, and yours was easily his favorite. He craved it during his time out there, not just because there was a serious lack in wild animals, but because it was addictive.
He squeezed your hips, soft and pillowy in his buzzing palms as he could feel himself starting to get hard in his pants, the more blood he swallowed the more drunk he got.
It made you feel good to watch his natural tan color fade back, his scarred back no longer a ghastly pale. You ran your fingers through his hair, occasionally curling your fingers and gripping the dark locks to grind down against his now-straining cock.
Daryl made soft, small sounds as he fed, each roll of your hips making each gulp of your blood taste so much better. His senses were at an all-time high, overwhelmed and at an absolute edge. He couldn’t help the way his hands pressed you down on his cock, hips desperately jerking against you as he could feel himself getting closer and closer, his head spinning in a blood lust haze.
He was so close, so very fucking close. His sharp claws had made themselves known, and you jolted when they painfully curled into your flesh, hips sputtering and slightly faltering in their movements. Daryl had no problem picking up the slack, almost fucking you right through his pants from how hard he was rutting up into you.
It was just all so much, his whole body on fire with pure arousal as he sighed around a final mouthful of crimson, trembling from his core as his orgasm washed over him, pressing your clothed cunt against him as hard as he could, making his already fuzzy mind draw a complete blank, a loud groan tearing from his throat that caused his fangs to slip out from where he had punctured the skin and drop his head against your shoulder, whimpering softly as he held you down.
You scratched his scalp comfortingly, feeling a little woozy from the amount of blood he had taken. He hummed against you as he started to come down from not only the high of his orgasm but bubbly buzz from his feast.
“Feel better?” You asked in a quiet, sleepy voice when Daryl’s tongue cleaned the drops of blood that had leaked from the small wounds, coating the area in his saliva so that it could heal.
He nodded as peppered you in appreciative and apologetic kisses, pulling you flush against his bare chest by wrapping his arms around your back, claws retracted and replaced with blunt nails. “M’sorry fer hurtin’, ya”
“Instead, you should be sorry for not feeding yourself, mister” You said as you shook your head, pinching his side as you got a bit upset again. “You know it scares me shitless when you do that”
“I know, I know. M’sorry for tha’ too” Daryl grumbled, feeling fatigued as well now that his tummy was full and satiated. His body was still weak and needed rest, now yours did as well considering he had taken a lot more than usual. “I’ll make it up to ya’” He said as he pushed himself up off the couch, grunting as it was a lot harder with tired muscles and one hand keeping his woman wrapped around him, adding a second once he was finally standing.
You giggled at that, arms hooked around his neck. “And just how will you do that?”
“Got a real good idea” Daryl smirked, hoisting you up as he ascended up the stairs to your shared bedroom, hungry for something else that was much better than blood.
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I started writing this a few days ago I think this is the quickest I've written something
Vamp!Daryl is an absolute need. I'm loving every single post I see of him and I love watching the disease spread faster than fucking covid I jump for joy when I see someone I don't even know talking abt him is this what fame feels like is this what its like to be famous am I fucking famous
yes you do want more of this so go read more
Bloodthirsty @dixons-sunshine
Bite me @mydearestdaryl
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Winter's King 12
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: have a good weekend.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.  
“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt. 
“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine. 
“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.  
He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway. 
“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...” 
You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him. 
You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs. 
You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.  
You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game? 
You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you. 
You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude. 
You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands. 
You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges. 
Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle. 
“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray. 
You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame. 
“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.” 
“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?” 
You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.” 
“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?” 
“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.” 
“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--” 
“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.” 
Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? 
“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--” 
“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.” 
The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are. 
You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on. 
“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?” 
“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...” 
“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again. 
You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--” 
“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.” 
“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.” 
You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor. 
As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down. 
“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.” 
“Thank you, sir, I am fine.” 
“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.” 
You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?” 
“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.” 
Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something? 
“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--” 
“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.” 
“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--” 
“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.” 
Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master. 
“I would not,” you repeat. 
He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.” 
“Sir Bryce--” 
“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.” 
You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.” 
He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it! 
And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid. 
⚔️
You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure. 
“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.” 
You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north. 
“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.” 
You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly. 
“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?” 
She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.” 
You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest. 
“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.” 
She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.” 
You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant. 
“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.” 
You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls. 
“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.” 
You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away. 
“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.” 
She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid. 
“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.” 
You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands. 
“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.” 
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delusional-mushroom · 2 months
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Aaravos x reader where reader is also a startouch elf who was Aaravos’s lover but got imprisoned at the same time he did but in a different prison so instead of trying to lead Claudia and Viren to his prison he’s insisting they save his lover (but in his own ‘No! You can’t do it on your own you need this elf’s help!’ To avoid revealing something that would break his mystery facade- maybe reader had like a pet that guards their last residence and Aaravos is just like ‘oh yeah, that’s just ___ he bites.’ Feel free to add some plot to this it’s just a lil scenario that poofed into mah brain hole.
🌟 anon
Oh hello 🌟 anon. Thanks for the request >:3
Side note: sorry this was a bit rushed, especially towards the end. I’d be happy to part two it if you guys want.
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After Leola’s death, you and Aaravos shared your grief. When you had no more tears to cry, and the crater of her demise was full to the brim, you began plotting your revenge.
At first, everything was going great. No one suspected a thing.
But then, a human girl— A human girl, had the audacity to stick her nose into where it did not belong, and rat you two out to the arch dragons.
It all happened so fast, one moment Aaravos was shielding his lover from the onslaught of attacks; and then the next they were both enveloped in a crude, blinding light.
Your look of horror was the last thing he saw before he too was imprisoned.
The two of you were both granted a visage through intricate looking glasses, spared with only one shellshocked glance at each other before you were given to the arch dragon of ocean, Domina Profundis.
Every day, and every night, Aaravos cried in his prision.
First Leola, his kind and loving daughter, and now his spouse: the only thing he had left in this cruel world.
Everything seemed hopeless.
He might never hold you in his embrace.
You two might never see each other again.
That was until a middle-aged dark mage stumbled upon his looking glass. How it got from the clutches of Avizandum and Zubeia to the treasury of Katolis, he didn’t know. But old habits die hard, and Aaravos didn’t mind reusing some old tricks…
“Avizandum is dead.”
What…?
Avizandum, King Of The Dragons, the ringleader in his and his lover’s imprisonment. He was dead.
Aaravos felt a satisfaction he had not felt in a long time. Not only was this going to make his schemes easier, but hearing the news of his passing made Aaravos almost giddy with joy. Maybe he wasn’t the one to end Avizandum’s life, but knowing of his death was almost just as good.
Maybe this middle-aged, emotionally fragile man had potential. Maybe he would be a useful pawn.
Finally, after centuries in his prision, escape was within his grasp. He could leave this dreaded place. He could take revenge upon those wretched dragons and elves.
But in a final moment, he relented.
“No.”
“What do mean ‘no’? We’re this close to freeing you!” Claudia squawked indignantly, pinching her fingers together to emphasise her point.
“You need to free someone else first. Someone just as powerful, and just as essential to the plan.” Aaravos insisted, his ghost-like apparition pointing a finger to a second dot on the map.
“And who would that be?” Viren inquired, Raising and an eyebrow in suspicion.
The star touched elf resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His use for the old man was beginning to dwindle. “You will see when the time comes.”
Reluctantly, he managed to get Viren, Claudia, and Terry to agree, though the earthblood elf didn’t really put up much of an argument.
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Roaring and ticketing sounded through the mountain where your prison was kept. Allegedly, the magic orb that contained you was imbedded into an ancient tree. In order to acquire it, the tree needed to be felled. Easy, right? Wrong.
The tree was guarded by a serpent-like dragon by the name of Mortem, who’s bite held enough venom to kill an archdragon.
“Don’t get bit.” Aaravos instructed.
He was so close to you. He could feel your energy radiating through the mountain.
And somehow, the earthblood elf managed to lead Mortem away and distract him long enough without getting bit for Claudia and Viren to cut down the tree and grab your prision.
The scrambled journey back down the mountain made his breath bait in anticipation. This was it. He was finally going to be able to see you again.
Once the ritual was complete, your giant form kneeled down to look the three mortals in the eye. Shrinking yourself down, his ghostly appearance caught your eye.
“Aaravos?” You ask incredulously.
“I’m here, beloved.”
I’m here…
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