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lovemomhatepolice · 14 days ago

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i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

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hotvintagepoll · 10 months ago

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Propaganda

James Stewart (It's a Wonderful Life, The Philadelphia Story, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington)—the thing about Jimmy Stewart is that for a weird-enough looking guy, he is yet somehow SO hot and SO believable, ALWAYS. He always plays the same person—he's always, well, Jimmy Stewart—yet that person can be a murderer, a dark cynic, a naive idealist, the boy next door or an old man who knows better, and every one of those is hot. I would jump his bones in a heartbeat

Toshiro Mifune (Rashumon, Seven Samurai, Grand Prix, Stray Dog)—i love and respect my boi tab hunter (rest in peace you beautiful, beautiful man ❤️), but after i watched like 12 of his movies in a row on tcm last year, i ALSO love and respect toshiro mifune, son of a literal actual hatamoto’s (a high-ranking samurai) daughter, also very possibly related to the best judokan EVER, AND, he’s the guy who SHOULD have been obi-wan kenobi. the fact that he’s ALSO hot as hell just adds to his appeal.

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

James Stewart propaganda:

"Ough I saw him first in It's A Wonderful Life, where he is very charming as a suicidal family man being absolutely crushed by capitalism. But then. The Philadelphia Story, in my opinion, should get the same kind of press The Mummy does for being a bisexual dream. Now I'm not really bi (not into women) and it's honestly up for debate whether i'm attracted to men or not, but COME ON!! The movie stars James Stewart as well as Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn (and Ruth Hussey). Stewart plays a common working man, a journalist, to contrast with Grant's character, who is mega-rich. He is scrappy and hates rich people. Hot! They have a whole scene together where he's super drunk and being really physical with his acting, which I love because he is kinda wet noodle shaped. Hot! He carries Hepburn in his arms while singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow. Hot! He gets punched in the face by Cary Grant. Hot!!! In The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, we get to see him portray an alternative type of masculinity, opposite John Wayne doing John Wayne. He is even more wet noodle-y, to put emphasis on his incompatibility with the rugged masculinity of the cow-boy, he wears an apron for a lot of the film, again, to blur his masculinity, and he gets shot. Hot! Also he's older here, if that's your thing. Long story short: He's giving librarian chic and The Philadelphia Story made me want to be poly."

youtube

“Here he is next to Grant, in what I believe to be a promotional shot for The Philadelphia Story. Please don’t get distracted by Grant (or do, i’m submitting him next).”

“He’s a nice guy and a good guy and deserves all the happiness and joy ever! Classic boy next door/class president kid that everyone loves for real. Stand-up for the Little Guy vibes. With a charming fun side!!”

Toshiro Mifune propaganda:

"In addition, he spoke fluent mandarin and every time he was casted in foreign films, he said his lines in the language of the movie (although they ended up dubbing him. He wasn’t happy about it though).”

Submitted: this gifset

Also submitted: this video (yes, that one)

"Crucial Toshiro Mifune propaganda: THOSE LEGS."

"That is hella muscle. Go watch The Hidden Fortress, aka Star Wars A New Hope. His thighs deserve an award."

#toshiro mifune #james stewart #jimmy stewart #hotvintagepoll #round 4 #fuck ! that ! old ! man ! ! !#Youtube

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explorevenus · 3 months ago

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dirty laundry ♡ re6!leon kennedy x puppy hybrid!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 5.1k

tags/warnings: re6!leon, stubborn/reluctant puppy reader who pretends she hates him, brief chris redfield appearance, forced proximity (kinda), leon pining for u (he wants u to call him daddy btw), hybrid heat cycle shenanigans, thigh riding, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no use of y/n

description: leon's had a tough time figuring out his new puppy hybrid roommate... outside of the fact that she's sweet on him, and just won't admit it. lucky for leon, he comes home from a mission to find her airing her dirty laundry.

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my beloved and adored @pupthepokemonenthusiast who is one of MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON EARTH EVER ?!!!! and i luv yapping w them and that makes collaborating w them such a dream every time....

divider by @cafekitsune !!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Loose gravel crunched beneath Leon's boots, uneven pavement glittering with moisture in the streetlights. It was somewhere between raining and snowing, the wind splattering his rosy cheeks with little drops of condensation, every breath puffing out in a visible cloud, head tilted down at just the right angle to protect the lower half of his bruised face from the cold while still being able to see where he was going.

He didn't have a specific destination in mind, and truth be told, he couldn't really read most of the signage around here anyway-- it was all in Mandarin, and his Mandarin was even less reliable than his Spanish, to put it gently. But he could read what he needed to, at least, enough to find the basics like food, bathrooms, lodging, or hospitals, and more importantly, he could discern the backlit lettering above the shop two doors down; antiques and collectibles.

That was a phrase he'd familiarized himself with in damn near every language under the sun by now.

A bell dinged quietly overhead as he stepped into the storefront, grateful that it was even open past 9 o'clock at night. It was only one room and didn't have much space to walk around, but every available surface was stacked to the brim with knick-knacks of all shapes, colors, sizes, and price points under no apparent system of organization. Where some might be overwhelmed or put off by the volume of things to look at, Leon felt his heart skip a beat with excitement. He still had some time to kill before his transport back to the States was due to arrive, and not a single minute of it would be wasted overlooking any potential gems.

Judging by the horrified stares he was attracting, Leon could imagine he looked fucking insane right now, clothes still splattered with wet, rotting blood and the barrel of his gun practically still smoking in his holster as he towered over a shelf in the back corner, scrutinizing a darling little plush bear in one hand and a set of hand-painted matryoshka dolls in the other like it was the hardest decision he would ever have to make.

Ultimately, he chose not to decide at all-- money wasn't a factor, so why not buy both? If it weren't for the issue of luggage, he'd just say 'fuck it' and buy out the whole damn store. Unfortunately, helicopters tended to be quite limited in space.

Self control was a skill Leon used to have mastered, perhaps even too well-- for a long time, every uncomfortable, unsightly, pesky little emotion was pressed down into a condensed cube to be neatly packed away in the very back corners of his brain, boxes upon boxes of dense feelings continuing to pile up and take over more and more space up there until the pressure became too much, the lid blew, and he went off the fucking handle. It wasn't something he was proud of by any means, all those long months blurred into mush through a lens of alcoholism and other reckless behaviors, but what he did try to let himself be proud of was his relative success in making it to the other side.

That, of course, was a feat he did not accomplish without help, nor would he ever claim to. Chris Redfield was instrumental in his recovery in more ways than one, and at times, without even realizing it. He was a listening ear, a dealer of tough love, a trusted confidant...

...and the reason he had you.

For obvious reasons, Leon had never gone out of his way to get a pet in his adult life. It just felt irresponsible with the inconsistency and uncertainty of his work situation, even with all the money in the world to spend on trainers and walkers and boarding and... whatever else, but at that point, it would feel less like a pet than an accessory, and Leon didn't have much interest in material. Never saw the need for it. Then one day Chris woke him up in the middle of the night banging on the door to his apartment with a gift he never expected.

"She's a... what?"

"A hybrid. She's a human-canine hybrid, Leon."

Leon glanced between you and Chris with skepticism in his eyes, only to find the same look peering back at him in you. It was almost kind of funny that he'd have a hard time believing there could be such a thing as a human-canine hybrid, considering all he'd seen in his line of work, a thought that made his shoulders and his expression relax almost instantly.

You were a real cutie, that was for sure, tucked behind Chris and staring up at Leon through your eyelashes with this grumpy little look on your face, a plush, patchwork bear clutched to your chest. The toy was equally as vibrant and colorful as your clothing, if not a bit worn with time. Your ears were long and droopy, your tail hanging low but swishing side-to-side with cautious interest, and the longer he studied you, the more he became endeared by you.

"The B.S.A.A. rescued a group of hybrids from an illegal facility a few weeks ago, but finding accommodations for them isn't as simple as it sounds," Chris continued, resting a hand on your shoulder in an apparent move to reassure you. "Long story short, the people who were in charge of that facility aren't too happy about the acquisition, and the hybrids aren't safe at the B.S.A.A. anymore. Would you be willing to shelter her for a while?"

The firm look in Chris' eyes-- and the fact that he just had to bring this up with you right in front of him-- made it clear he wasn't really asking. No mind, Leon would have done it anyway. It just would have been nice to have had a heads up to rectify the state of the apartment.

"Yeah, of course," Leon nodded gently, stepping aside to allow you and Chris further into the apartment. "Make yourself at home." He caught the way your head tilted up a bit, as if you were studying the scent in the air, and he supposed it made sense that you likely were.

That was four months ago. And for the past four months, Leon quite enjoyed having you around. You were silly and playful, always bounding around the apartment with a toy clenched between your teeth or lounging in the sunny spots in front of the windows, pawing at him for belly rubs and treats and infinite tug-o-war matches. All that being said, you were equally stubborn, resisting him at every turn like magnetic repulsion, always kicking up a fuss seemingly just for the sake of it.

He wasn't sure. You were tough to read. Not only did some of your canine personality traits make you a bit forgetful and distractible at times, but you were also just terribly inconsistent with your affections, and he wasn't always sure what to make of it. All he knew was that he was determined to win you over in one way or another, and if he was going to do that, he'd have to figure you out first, and so far that was shaping up to be quite the herculean task. At least it seemed you would be here for a while.

With the way he guarded your little treasures during the flight home, one might assume he was smuggling something, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of coming home without something to present to you. The hardened federal agent was determined to crack a smile out of you on his terms, to get you to admit what you both knew to be true.

You had a crush on him. A big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on him, and you rejected the idea of owning up to it so staunchly that it was turning you into a bit of a brat. That was the one thing he could read about you, and it drove you up the wall.

He certainly wasn't judging you. It would be an absurd lie to say he didn't have a big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on you too-- he'd be insane if he didn't. But the back and forth was far too enjoyable, and Leon was always up for a good natured challenge.

See, self control was something Leon had worked really, really hard to regain a handle on, and when it came to his drinking and brooding, he certainly had... but when it came to you? Not by a longshot. That being said, he would rather be pouring himself into courting you than pouring himself another bourbon. That's what he used to shut up that little voice in the back of his head that questioned whether or not he was putting too much energy into this, banking too much on it.

It was innocent, right? It's not like you were a bad influence or whatever. If anything, a lot of nights that he would have spent at the bar were instead being spent at home playing with you. Surely that had to be a net positive, especially considering you would have otherwise been getting poked and prodded at in a lab.

Stepping back into the apartment for the first time in weeks, Leon hadn't even bothered bringing his duffel bag in with him from the car, the only thing in his arms being the wrinkled paper bag from that antique shop. His own belongings could wait. As soon as he shut and locked the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was.

No lively music from the shows you liked to watch, no little bumps or growls from you playing toys, no quiet padding of your feet across the hardwood from you coming to see who was at the door. He glanced at his watch, finding it was only half past nine in the evening, and while you often proclaimed to abide by a healthy bedtime for yourself, you had a habit of napping all day and bouncing off the walls all night. Something was amiss.

Stepping further into the apartment to investigate the scene, Leon peered into the living room. The lights were on, the TV was off, there were a few toys strewn about the couch and the floor, but not a glimpse of the sweet puppy who left them there. Odd. Suspicious. Maybe even staged.

His lips came together in a whistle meant to grab your attention, knowing your sharp ears would hear it from anywhere in the apartment, even if you were sleeping. When that call garnered no response, he began to wonder if you were mad at him. After all, he was supposed to return almost three days ago, and while Chris had been able to stop by and check on you when he had the time, it just wasn't the same, and you didn't do well with loneliness, and Leon knew that.

Turning on his heel to head deeper into the apartment, he continued to find you nowhere. Not climbing the countertops in the kitchen, or playing under the dining table, or even reluctantly having a bath. As he reached the end of the short hallway, there were only two doors left to open.

Leon tried another whistle and called out, "Hey, pup? I'm home!"

He waited, and listened... and heard nothing. Your bedroom door was closed, and it looked like the light was on in there, judging by the subtle glow spilling out beneath it, but still, no response.

His bedroom door, however, was cracked open. The overhead light was off but the bedside lamp was on, and his dirty laundry basket was tipped over on the floor. When he stepped forward to turn it upright again, he thought he saw the bedding shuffle out of the corner of his eye. Closer inspection of the bed brought the case of his missing puppy girl drew to a close. Your soft tail was peeking out beneath the edge of the covers, the markings and patterns in your fur being undeniably familiar to him now.

It was perfect timing, really-- he was just about to tip over into the realm of worrying about your safety, but now he was back to just worrying you were mad at him... and he couldn't help the amused grin that tugged at his expression.

"Is that a little puppy in daddy's bed?" He asked aloud, his tone taking on a smitten and adoring lilt. Once again, he received no response... at least not verbally. Quietly setting down that paper bag, he stood there and watched with his arms crossed as your tail fluttered to life in response to his tone, the tip silently patting the sheets in a lazy and reluctant little wag that you might have actually gotten away with, if it weren't for the fact that your tail was in plain view.

He was initially going to try a few more times to get a response out of you, hoping to make sure you were okay and to see if you wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that wasn't going to work with you. You weren't all doom and gloom like he tended to be, you were silly, you were playful, you were fundamentally kind. A lighthearted approach wouldn't work with him, or with most of the people he dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but it would almost certainly work with you.

"Well," Leon stretched his arms up with a dramatic groan, "Since there's no puppies in the bed..."

And then he playfully toppled over the lump in the bedding, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to actually crush you, of course, music to his ears being the muffled squeal of stubborn discontent that sounded out from beneath the covers.

"Leon!" You whined, arms squirming around beneath him in a desperate flurry of moves to find the edge of the blanket, tugging it down to free your face for some air. Soon enough your head poked out from beneath the covers and your eyes were already narrowed into unamused slits at him.

But that wasn't really what caught his attention about the look on your face. You were panting for breath, your ears flopped back lazily and your hair an absolute mess, your skin hot to the touch and clammy with sweat. Now his eyes were narrowed at you in suspicion, because you were certainly frustrated, just... not the kind of frustrated he was anticipating, if his suspicions were found to be correct.

"You look guilty," He commented, brow raised as he took you by the chin and tilted your head this way and that, as though in observation. "Why do you look guilty, puppy?"

"I'm not," You were quick to defend yourself-- much too quick, in Leon's opinion-- and you stubbornly recoiled back from his hand, continuing to squirm and resist beneath him. "You're squishing me!"

You planted the palm of your hand dead in the center of his face in an attempt to push him away, the bedding slipping further down in the process to reveal your flushed collarbones and shoulders, both of which were bare. Were you naked? In his bed?

He took you by the wrists to pin your hands down with ease, staring down at you in scrutiny. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart," He said, tone firm, but not unkind. "You're red as a tomato."

With a stubborn whine, your ears flattened back against your messy head in what could only be read as shame, and that certainly wasn't what he was going for at all, even with the compromising position he had you in at the moment. It was just meant to tease you, but you looked mortified, and he could only imagine why that might be.

"Puppy," He softened, letting go of your wrists, one hand taking you by the cheek to gently caress you. "You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

Your mouth fell open and then snapped shut again a time or two, a clear indication that you were tripping over your words in search of the right ones. Finally, you managed, "It's... I-It's hot."

"Then why are you all bundled up, huh?"

You didn't even really need to admit it at this point, because it was clear as day what was going on here-- after all, Chris had warned him this might happen, that hybrids could have... intense reproductive cycles-- but he also wasn't going to push it if you just wanted to ride it out on your own. He wasn't an expert on this, he didn't know exactly what you needed, and he didn't want to overstep and freak you out.

That being said, the thought that you'd retreated to his bedroom, desperate to surround yourself with his belongings in his absence just to cope with being in heat, was a remarkably good one.

This time you didn't seem to have a retort, still writhing under him and trying to push him off of you, which wasn't new behavior for you, though this time he did take it upon himself to give you some space instead of continuing to mess with you.

"Alright, alright, relax, daddy's not making fun of you--"

"You're not my daddy," You interjected stubbornly, but just like always, the rosy, searing blush on your face betrayed how you really felt about the topic, even as you added, "Stop trying to make me call you that!"

Leon dearly and sincerely adored you, that much was to be sure, but your hard-headedness could run him ragged sometimes, when you'd dig your heels in so hard about things that seemed so innocuous. Whether or not you should be expected to call him daddy-- which he regularly enjoyed teasing you about but would never legitimately force you to do-- didn't feel like the biggest issue at hand here. Not by a mile.

How was he supposed to focus on that when you were just... burning up? Panting for breath and shaking and whining? Oh dear God, this wasn't good, and for as much effort as he was putting into focusing on your wellbeing, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to focus on the way his pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably cozy in the front. He brought one hand down between you to adjust himself only to find he'd unintentionally solicited a faint, but distinctly needy moan from you in the process, presumably because you'd touched you somewhere he hadn't necessarily meant to.

"G-Go away, Leon," You insisted, eyes screwed shut as you turned your head to the side and maintained that stubborn frown he knew so well on you. "Get off of me!"

But your tail was wagging in an absolute blur, thumping mindlessly against the damp sheets and knocking in between his knees at an intensity that was impossible to miss. Leon's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth in an intrigued grin before finally sitting back on his haunches, still straddling you, but at least freeing your upper half.

"Leon, quit--"

You poor dear, you were so, so close to finishing that sentence, if only it weren't for the way Leon swung one leg between your own, driving his knee right up to the apex until you felt the muted pressure lavish your clit. Whatever you were about to say fizzled out on your tongue and instead popped out in a string of whimpers, your back arching up off the bed. The movement caused the bedding to slip down just a little bit further, confirming his suspicion that you were in fact naked, at least from the waist up.

Taking the soft globe of your breast into the palm of his hand, Leon let his thumb brush over your already pebbled nipple and asked lowly, "Oh, c'mon, pretty puppy... you're totally sure you don't want daddy's help? I think you're just being fussy..."

Your chest rumbled with a little growl, but it was more of a moan than that, and the fiery glare on your face was the perfect image of it. You were pissed, and quite frankly, it was a good look on you. Maybe even one of his favorites. Suddenly you were baring your teeth at him too, just pretending it was in the opposite way. You were such an open book to him.

"You're being mean," Huffed the stubborn little puppy, but of course, Leon could be meaner.

So he was. Leon snatched the covers off the bed in one quick swipe, and what was revealed to him beneath had to have been a thousand times better than anything he might have expected. You were naked, yes, but tangled between your legs was a pair of his sweatpants, undoubtedly retrieved from the depths of the overturned laundry basket, the grey cotton soaked through in patches with slick all over the crotch and thighs.

Fucking Christ, you weren't just getting off to the thought of him, but also the scent of him, the feeling of his clothes on your skin, and presumably, an idea not unlike what he was already teasing you with; letting you rub one out on his thigh.

Squishing your cheeks in one hand, he said firmly, "Look at me. Do you honestly feel like I'm being mean to you?"

There was a pause while you stared at each other, your eyes searching his own skeptically. It didn't really seem he was messing with you, no, in fact he appeared like he really wanted to help you. The back and forth was fun and he enjoyed the little game you'd made out of getting to know each other, but when it came to your comfort and wellbeing, he wasn't interested in being forced to solve puzzles. You couldn't really blame him.

"N-No," You admitted.

"Exactly, so just... simmer down, will you?"

This time Leon didn't give you another chance to tell him to fuck off. He scooped you up at the waist and pulled you to your knees, drawing your body close to his until you were straddling his left thigh. Eyes wide, you stared at him stiffly, like you were too afraid to move. Huffing out a breath, he rolled his eyes with a smirk and gripped your hips, tugging you down until you were finally bearing your weight on him.

For as fast as your pointed teeth sank into your bottom lip to quiet yourself, it didn't even matter. You still let out a pleasured whine, ears flat against your head and your tail hung low, the tip swishing in a reluctant little wag that patted the outside of his knee with every other beat.

"You're too precious for your own damn good," He grumbled, thumbs brushing soothing circles into your hips. "Y'know that, pup?"

Breaths falling short, it felt like your head was full of warm mud, teetering for balance on your neck as your upper body tipped forward to grasp at his arms. As expected, Leon caught you effortlessly, steadying you by cupping your face in his hands so he could look you right in your braindead little eyes, your noses almost touching as your tongue lolled out in lazy gasps.

It was obvious he wasn't going to get much more out of you in the way of words at this point, so it was a damn good thing you had that pretty tail knocking about. He figured all that wiggling was the closest he'd get to a literal window into your mind.

"Go on, then," Leon smoothed your hair away from your sticky forehead, still mindful to hold you upright. His tone was low and, as always, far too sweet for you... but it was so nice, it vibrated down to the base of your spine and made you dizzier. You were just about to fulfill what he was encouraging you to do when he added wryly, "You've already made such a mess, don't get shy on me now."

A quiet whimper stuttered from your dry throat-- you couldn't sit still anymore, he was being evil and he knew it, downright evil... and you typically would have stuck up your nose at him and brooded on it for a while, but you didn't even have the strength of mind for that at the moment. You hardly even realized you were already rocking your hips back and forth against the clothed meat of his thigh, nails threatening to snap under the pressure as they begged to sink past his shirt and into his muscles.

It was pleasant, sure, but it wasn't nearly enough, especially not after hours and hours and hours of tossing and turning in his bed, rubbing yourself nearly numb with your fingers and your toys and his pillows and his clothes, aching for something tangible and warm to nurse the pain away. You let your forehead rest against his own for a moment to catch your breath, hoping to find the right angle, but you just weren't getting what you needed, and the frustration alone made your glassy eyes sting with the threat of tears.

That just wouldn't do.

"Oh, you really made a mess, didn't you, sweet girl?" Leon cooed sympathetically, shushing your delicate cries. Thumbs skimming over your burning cheeks, he asked quietly and carefully, "Why don't you let daddy lick it up, hm?"

Your expression scrunched up in a weak pout and your empty little head bobbed up and down in an airy nod, and just as soon as you gave him that go-ahead, he was moving to make it so. You were on your back in seconds, Leon's broad hands spreading your plush thighs apart to make space for himself between them, and for as cool and composed as he was trying to appear right now, he couldn't help the low moan that made it past him just at the sight of you.

Sure, he'd seen more than enough by now to guess that you were wet, but you weren't just wet, you were dripping all over yourself. It was all he could do to collect as much of you on his tongue as possible, groaning at the taste and dragging you closer by your hips until he was as close as he could get, the tip of his nose buried against the curls at the lowest point of your mound as he lapped you up with abandon.

You were writhing and crying, legs kicking out at the stimulation before drawing back up to dig into his shoulders and pull him further into you, into the mess of you. He'd managed to find it somehow, to become that something tangible and warm and redefine it, unraveling you from the root with a sanguine sense of desperation that was tempered by his undying commitment to treating you like you were made of glass.

Your tail was curling up tight against the base of your spine, your chest was heaving for breath, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, and he hardly could either.

But he also couldn't stand not to. If you had the capacity to pay attention to small details, you might have noticed his eyes were just as bleary and drunk as yours were. Leon recorded your every movement in his mind like scripture from this angle, his own hips rutting down into the bed while yours bucked into his mouth, and it was only when he found the strength to pull away for air that he found a moment to reorient himself in reality.

His lips were puffy, rosy, and slick with you as he caught his breath, two fingers toying with your puffy, aching clit in the absence of his tongue. It was almost like muscle memory for him to reach up with his free hand and pat your belly, an affectionate hum ringing from him at the near-immediate reaction it got out of you, even in a state like this. You were squirming and arching beneath him as your quivering body fought to determine priority over the attention brought by either hand, a rather endearing dilemma to have found yourself in.

"Oh, my poor baby," Leon preened, lavishing the inside of your right thigh with kisses. "You're so cute..."

Unable to help himself from letting you have the best of both forms of pampering, he replaced the tips of his fingers with his tongue yet again, freeing both hands to pet your soft tummy. The movements were lazy, but sure enough, your tail was going off as fast as it could while you laid there shivering and whining and clawing at him, tumbling over the edge into release before you could come up with a way to warn him first.

As if he would have cared anyway. A warning wouldn't have changed anything. Hell, it might have even spoiled what turned out to be a dizzying moment of unabashed indulgence for him.

Gentle, adoring hands kneading delicately at all your favorite spots, Leon willfully deprived himself of oxygen in pursuit of every drop of your syrup as it flowed from you, knowing he would come to regret being wasteful later if this should turn out to be a one-time thing. He lost himself to the throes of hedonism for several drawn out moments until he was confident you were licked clean, until he came to again and realized you had gone completely limp in the wake of your expenditure.

Rolling over onto his back, Leon spread out just as bonelessly across the bed as you did, the both of you a sorry sight of sweat and heat. He spent several minutes trying to find a way to break the silence. With the haze of lust wearing off a bit and clearing up space in his mind for more intelligent processes, Leon was already beginning to dread the inevitable conversation this would warrant between the two of you.

Lucky for him, that was so far outside of the realm of your current train of thought... or lack thereof. You certainly felt better, but that didn't mean your brain wasn't mud anymore. Little else mattered to your muggy, muddled mind but the here and now.

In an unexpected move, you rolled onto your side to rest your head against his chest. The way you struggled to meet his eyes was enough for him to know you were likely still struggling to talk, or maybe you just didn't really want to, but the olive branch you'd extended demonstrated your agreeable state, which was more than he could've said for you half an hour ago.

Shit, half an hour ago he was still hoping a couple presents from his trip would win your affections, yet here he was with the taste of you lingering on his lips, your naked body curled up to him for comfort.

Wrapping his arm tightly around you until you were tucked up comfortably into his side, Leon rested his chin atop your head and mumbled fondly, "What am I gonna do with you, huh? Can't even sleep in my own bed after a long mission 'cause this pretty little puppy made such a big mess... I hope you know how to work the washing machine."

#venustext #sintext #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #re6 leon #leon kennedy smut

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rosieofcorona · 3 months ago

Text

Fellchaser

Hi my sweets, I bring to you some freshly baked Solavellan yearning. Also posted on Ao3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

This is how he remembers it, the first night Solas knew that he loved her.

He cannot say with any certainty, after all these lonely years, what had happened directly before or directly after, cannot make out the finer details in the grand tapestry of things. But he knows by heart the shape of that hour, the way she had come to him after a victory, flushed with wine and the chill of the evening, her hair curling up in the damp autumn air.

*****

He declines, as he always does, their invitations for a celebratory drink, preferring the relative quiet and solitude of his own quarters.

For many hours, he can hear them– Bull and Sera and the rest– their cheerful noises bouncing off the castle walls like skipping stones. It annoys him for a time, disturbs his solitude, his study, until he hears (or thinks he hears) her voice among them.

Solas can picture her then, in the tavern. Bright mind, bright eyes, bright laughter. Vibrant even in the dimness of the room. And there’s a flicker of a thought he can’t keep smothered– that he should’ve gone down there with her, despite his judgment.

It makes no matter how he tries to keep his distance. She seeks him out, as she always does, as he knows she will. When he doesn’t stop her, he tells himself that it’s because she’s their Inquisitor. He tells himself she can go where she likes, that duty alone compels his counsel.

He knows a lie when he hears one.

He’s nearly talked himself into making an appearance when she shows up in his doorway, hazy and loose with the aura of drink, the tips of her ears and her cheeks turned rosy.

He does nothing to discourage her entering. He says nothing to send her away.

“Hello,” she says simply, when he sees her. Her head tilts against the frame, her gaze fond and unfocused.

“Hello.”

“You never joined us.” An accusation. Lightly leveled, lightly slurred. The syllables tumble in her mouth like stones in a river.

He wants to say, I could not bear you being so close and sweet and real. He wants to say, You are a distraction I cannot afford. Instead he says, “I was preoccupied,” knowing that answer is insufficient.

She makes her way into the chamber, weaving an unsteady path to the table where he has laid out all his books, his quills, his ink.

“With what?” she murmurs, curious even in her state.

Solas knows he should excuse himself, conjure a reason to stay at a distance. But he finds himself wanting to– what? Talk to her, tell her, keep her close?

“Translating a record,” he says at last. “Of ancient practices in Arlathan. Ritual offerings to the gods in exchange for their…favor.”

Solas stumbles on the last word, something bitter in its taste, and where she would normally probe him further she takes no notice. She’s busy poring over the largest book, its contents all in Elvhen, the ink and vellum faded by the centuries. “I can’t make out any of this,” she frowns. “Perhaps I’m worse off than I thought.” “Perhaps,” Solas huffs out a laugh. “Although the language has shifted with time. Some words may yet be familiar, if not–”

“Oh, here!” She gasps delightedly when she finds a phrase she knows, though she says the syllables slowly, as if they are new. “Sa-lath. One’s love, one’s only love. Something like that.”

“In the modern parlance, yes. But here,” he says– and he leans over her to tap the page for emphasis– “Here it means something like ‘beloved.’ The words come together, see. Salath.”

It’s the wine he smells first, that rich, warm scent that floats from her up close, but there’s something different, something distinctive hiding beneath. He wants to taste it and find out, to slip his tongue into her mouth, and–

“They would offer something beloved, then?”

Solas clears his throat.

“Or someone,” he nods, breathing deeply. “A high price for favor.”

She goes quiet for a moment, tracing the small shapes of the letters with her finger. Such a fine movement is made imprecise by the drink, but she repeats it as if she is carving it into her memory. “Salath,” she whispers, tasting the word. “Salath, ‘beloved.’ I will remember that.”

He very much doubts that she will, come morning. But it stirs something inside him all the same. Beloved, beloved.

“What would you demand?” She says, sweeping the thought from his mind. “If you were a god.”

If, he thinks, that one word louder than all the rest.

“I suppose it would depend what was being asked of me.”

“Your favor,” she tells him. “Your love.”

“Ah.” There’s a twist in his chest, like an arrow wrenched free, pain and relief all at once. “The heart of a god is not easily won. I would require yours in return.”

She laughs a little, as if he’s jesting. “That hardly seems equal. A mortal heart for a god’s?”

“Your heart,” Solas says, in a gentle correction. “For mine.” He does not kiss her, like he wants to. He does not stop her kissing him.

The press of her mouth is a summer fruit, warm and sweet and bruising lightly beneath their wanting, their mutual hunger grown apparent.

Only once has he kissed her before this. A dream, an impulse, he’d told himself then. A mistake that he wouldn’t repeat, no matter how tempting.

So he’s grateful, now, that she’s been drinking, that she’s given him an out. He can call this her impulse, even as he takes more, tastes more. He can call this next part chivalry. He knows a lie when he hears one.

“We can’t,” he says, when they come apart. “You are not yourself, and the hour is late. You should get some sleep.”

She’s disappointed, he thinks– and is it cruel to hope she is? To hope she still wants him as he wants her, even as he turns her away?

Best not to dwell on it.

“I will help you upstairs,” he tries again, and she brightens a little. “Can you manage the walk?”

There’s a part of him that wishes she’ll say no, give him an excuse to lift and carry her to her quarters, to feel the weight of her pressed against him. But she says, “Yes,” and, “I’m not so far gone,” and Solas breathes out another laugh.

He knows a lie when he hears one.

All the same, he takes her hand in his, lets her lean on him as they make the long walk to her quarters, each step its own little feat. She stumbles more than once; more than once, he catches her gently.

It is worth being gentle for her.

In her room he removes her boots, knelt on the floor as if at an altar. He hardly knows the last time he knelt, only knows that now he wants to.

When he rises she says, “Thank you,” and the following word may be his name, or another entirely. Solas tries to ignore it, tries to let the sound be lost in the lingering silence but he needs to know, as he always does, needs to be certain. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘thank you,’” she hums, laying back on the bed, and this time he leans in close to hear the rest.

“Salath.” *****

The walk back to his quarters is longer, somehow.

He thinks of her all the way, her hair in a dark spill across the pillows, the way she rolled the old sounds of his language around in her mouth. He thinks of her when he undresses, when he slips into his own bed, when he indulges in the fantasy of feeling her under and around him. Just this once, he thinks, as his hand begins to move beneath the covers, slow at first and then more desperate. Just this once won’t hurt, won’t hurt, won’t–

Ah.

He is in love, he knows it now, as he shudders and gasps out her name. How tragic it is, and how lovely. How foolish, how sweet. His love for her could level cities. It could grow flowers.

A mortal heart for a god’s. Beloved, beloved.

He imagines what he would sacrifice for her, if he has to, when he has to. The answer surfaces in his mind like something dredged up from unfathomable depths, some unknown factor which demands to be accounted for, and which fills him with dread.

“I would give everything,” he says aloud, to himself, to no one.

The words hang in the air like ghosts, the same lament in all their mouths. Beloved, beloved. Tags by request (thank you, angels!): @meg-does-art, @lavellanart

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jasvtsc · 5 days ago

Text

demon!dean x angel!reader.

tw! mentions of death, anxiety, blood, graphic language, manipulation, dean being an a-hole, corruption, grammar mistakes (ig)

word count! 2.1k

it was hard seeing dean in this state.

at first, you thought he was dead. you watched him die in your arms. then, you found out that he was a demon? and to make everything worse, no one wanted to tell you anything — they thought it was for the best.

why? you had no clue.

so, when they brought him in, back to the bunker, you almost got a heart attack. you wanted to scream, cry, throw up and do everything else that humans do when they’re overstimulated with emotions. however, your state of distressed euphoria didn’t last for long when the bad news came crashing down on you, making you hyperventilate and experience what was called a panic attack. while you were getting more human, your beloved was turning into his worst nightmare.

dean was a demon.

yeah, he indeed died a year prior, but because he was bearing the Mark Of Cain at that time, he was resurrected. and you weren’t exactly sure if you were happy about that.

sure, it was dean. he looked the same.

but it wasn’t your dean.

those green eyes, once full of love and adoration for you, now were as empty as the hole in your heart that his death left. whenever you looked at him, you didn’t see him — the soul once shattered but put back together by you. now, it was only darkness which consumed every tiny bit of light you tried so hard to put in him.

it wasn’t your dean.

you were sitting in the war room in your usual place — an armchair in the corner, right next to the cabinet stuffed with lore books and other things. nervously picking at your wings, you let the feathers drop to the ground as you stared with empty eyes at the wall in front of you. castiel and sam were discussing what to do with dean and how could they possibly save him — if the whole process was even reversible.

you had no idea how they managed to catch him in the first place and drag him back here — no one was telling you anything. you were as clueless as you could be, knowing only that the man you loved the most was now the creature of darkness you were taught to despise since the early stage of creation.

you didn’t get a chance to talk to him yet. and you weren’t exactly sure if you wanted to. you only saw how they dragged his unconscious body to the basement and locked him up in there, chained to the chair in the middle of the anti-possession symbol.

as more and more feathers covered the wooden floor, the man and your angel brother noticed the state you were in. they looked at each other and then back at you. sam sighed and came closer, placing his hand on your shoulder. you shivered lightly and looked at the younger winchester.

“hey, listen, we think that we found something which can help bring dean back. but we can’t leave him alone here so—“ sam explained with a soft smile, and you could see that when he turned his head towards cas, he wanted him to continue. the angel widened his eyes and nodded.

“oh, yeah. we want you to stay with him,” as always, painfully straightforward.

“why me? can’t one of you stay?” because frankly, you didn’t want to face him. not yet.

“birdie, you’re—“ sam started, but you quickly cut him off.

“don’t call me that,” you said with a stern voice, your tone almost threatening. it was what dean used to call you. no way you’d let this word slip from someone else’s mouth — it was reserved only for dean winchester.

“okay, fine, i won’t,” he raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back as he felt like you were about to hit him with something. “it’s just… you’re in no shape to go outside at the moment. look what you’ve done to your wings—“

“what i do with them is my fucking business,” you hissed, and both of them were stunned. you just cursed.

they were looking at you in disbelief, and suddenly, you felt embarrassed with your little outburst. however, you weren’t going to apologize for your feelings — you had an absolute right to be upset and frustrated. so, shooting them both a cold glare, you left the room.

in the end, you were left alone with dean. it took you some time to mentally prepare for the confrontation. but eventually, you pulled your shit together and decided to go down to the basement.

carrying a tray with some food, you slowly opened the door and peeked inside. suddenly, you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest, and your mouth was dry as if you hadn’t seen a drop of water in days. you slowly walked out into the dim light, showing yourself to him after god knows how long.

and then, you heard it — a mocking, cold-hearted chuckle that echoed through the air.

“oh, now, who do we have here? my little birdie. i missed you so much, baby. did you miss me, too?” he asked with a cruel smirk, tilting his head to the side as he sized you up, his eyes flashing a pitch-black colour for a second.

for some reason, all the courage you built up in yourself vanished as soon as you made eye contact with him. he was scary. you never thought you’d admit it, but you were genuinely scared of the man who once used to hold you so dearly in his arms, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he placed small kisses on your temple. now, he had this darkness in his soul that made you want to hurl — your angelic nature physically declining being anywhere near such evil.

you tightened your fingers on the tray, looking around the room, thinking what you should do. you couldn’t free him from his restraints, but then again, he had to eat, somehow. because still, you cared about him. fuck, you still loved him.

“come on, birdie. you’re not even going to say hi to me? please, let me have a look at your pretty face. it’s been so long,” he cooed, suddenly putting on that soft voice you were so used to hearing. but then again, you could just sense the mockery and the dark intention behind his words. everything coming out of his mouth in this moment was insincere.

but was that enough to make you weak? yes.

because, oh god, even if it was just for your delusions and how naive you were, you just wanted him back. you wanted your dean back, and you were ready to pretend as long as it was needed.

so, slowly, you looked up at him, trying to hold back your tears as they dwelled in your eyes, threatening to spill down your rosy cheeks.

dean smirked menacingly, running his tongue over the top row of his pearly white teeth, letting out a grunt as he bit his lower lip, slightly thrusting his hips forward and spreading his legs.

“there we go. my good little angel,” he taunted, eyeing you up and down with a predatory smile.

“what happened to you?” you asked meekly, your voice trembling as you swallowed a lump in your throat. you were sick to your stomach, and the smell of evil basically radiating from him didn’t help.

“me? nothing, birdie. it’s me, dean. your dean. your precious human, don’t you remember?” he tried acting clueless and innocent but quickly gave in to his demonic nature, letting out a cruel laugh as he threw his head back. “come on, don’t act so fucking dense. i’m a demon, now. you should’ve gathered that much by now. or did they not tell you? no wonder. you’re so fucking infantile that it’s just straight-up pathetic. you’re not a fucking kid. sure, you’re this cute, little, clueless angel. but come on, use your damn feathered brain sometimes,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

and holy shit, did that hurt.

you bit your lower lip, your eyes now obviously glossy when you let out a small sniffle. you just wanted to run and hide somewhere, away from him and his cruel insults. now, you were 100% sure.

it wasn’t your dean.

you were ready to leave the basement. you turned around and took a deep breath, but dean wouldn’t let you go so easily. as soon as he noticed that you wanted to escape, he used his soft voice. again.

“hey, hey, hey. birdie, i’m sorry. you know i didn’t mean that. it’s just—“ he grunted as if he was struggling. “it’s this demon in me. i can’t control it,” he started panting heavily, a smirk still on his face as you were turned with your back facing him. “birdie, please. you have to believe me. i would never hurt you.”

damn, did that work.

hearing him struggle and be in pain just cut at your heartstrings. quickly, you turned around with a panicked expression and stepped closer to him.

“dean?” you asked, your voice breaking as tears flooded your face, dropping from your chin onto his thighs. he nodded, putting on an act and using his most pathetic expression.

“it’s me, birdie. please, help me,” he almost choked on his words, his voice pained and hurting. “please, baby, you’re the only one i can count on.”

you knew you’d probably regret that later. but jesus, you were so gullible, and you loved him so much.

almost immediately, you freed him from his restraints, cupping his face and stroking his stubbled cheeks. he sighed and grabbed your wrists, giving them a gentle squeeze as he leaned into your touch. at this point, you were long gone.

“tell me what’s happening, dean. let me help you,” you whispered, carefully scanning his face, still clueless that all of it was just a scene.

“it hurts. baby, it hurts so badly,” he whimpered, squeezing your wrists tighter. hearing that only made you panic even more.

“where? tell me where, i’ll heal you,” you sobbed, your vision blurry because of your tears.

“you can’t. you can’t heal it,” he panted, closing his eyes shut and grunting in mock pain.

“what do you mean?” you widened your eyes. “why not?”

“there’s only one way you can help me,” and you were ready to do anything for him, your self-preservation instincts turned off instantly. with a nod, you encouraged him to continue. “birdie, i need your blood.”

and that was enough for you to freeze on the spot. your mouth went dry, and you exhaled a shaky breath. he needed your blood, which was probably the most sacred thing in the universe. angel blood was the rarest to get, and it had its power.

“h-how? why?” you stuttered, shaking your head as you tried to understand it. you didn’t know anything about angels helping someone with their blood. and you were scared of the possible consequences.

dean cursed in his head, trying his best not to frown and scoff. instead, he kept on with the pathetic act. he whimpered again and then grunted, leaning forward as he put his hand on his chest, pretending that he struggled to breathe.

“please. i- i can’t,” he groaned and then screamed in pain.

“okay, what do i do?” you asked, widening your eyes as even more panic flooding your system.

“feed it to me. please, birdie. let me drink your blood,” he begged and then, you acted purely on your feelings, throwing any remaining logical thought out the window.

without much further ado, you lifted one of your wings and took a single feather. you slit your wrist with the sharper end, and as the crimson liquid started dripping down your skin at high speed, you put it closer to his face.

dean closed his eyes and inhaled the metallic scent. it took him a lot of effort not to moan in pure pleasure and excitement. he licked his lips and then grabbed your hand, putting his mouth in your wrist and drinking your blood like a man starved. you gasped and scrunched your eyes, tilting your head away as he dug his teeth into your skin for a better grip.

you began to feel more and more lightheaded as he drank more and more of your blood. when you finally looked back at him, only then did you realize your mistake. his eyes were pitch black, and his mouth was covered in your blood. he pulled away and smiled sadistically, looking at you like a feral animal.

he pushed you onto the floor and chuckled darkly, looking around the room. he grabbed the feather you dropped and it practically rotted in his hand, turning into a dark blade-like object. you widened your eyes, crawling away from him as he started to walk towards you with a bloodthirsty smile. and then, only one word slipped from his blood-covered mouth.

“run.”

a/n: idea inspired by @angelicjackles !! lmk what you think, all feedback is very much appreciated:))

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @a1ecmcdowell @angelicp0etry @figthoughts @fitxgrld @hrtsoldierboy @10ava01

#jasvtsc #jasvtsc writing #dean winchester x angel!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester one shot #demon!dean #demon!dean x angel!reader #supernatural one shot #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader

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sea-lanterns · 1 year ago

Text

BUSINESS MEETING

synopsis: (empress! AU) the empress goes to inazuma for a business meeting.

featuring: ei, miko, sara, ayaka (ningguang, beidou, keqing, ganyu, yelan and shenhe are all mentioned at the beginning)

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab gn reader, pwp, polyamory, 4some (implied 5some at the end), open relationship, mentions of harem, slight power dynamics, groping, fondling, breast fixation, fin.ge.ring, hickies, marking, voye.urism, mast.ur.b.ation, triple pen.et.ration, may be ooc.

art credits: moonlight garden

“Remember, stay with Ayaka at all times, don’t follow strangers into strange places, and always keep your guard up regardless of the situation.”

Ningguang adjusted the buttons on your coat and cupped your face one last time to get a good look at you. It was the first time in a while that you had to travel without the support of your courtesans, as you were called to Inazuma by the almighty shogun to discuss business affairs and trade. The only courtesan in your harem that was allowed to accompany you was Ayaka, and that was only because Ayaka was a native Inazuman who could translate things for you if you needed help.

The other courtesans in your harem were deeply worried for your safety when the proposal reached their palace. Inazuma had only just opened up its borders to the rest of Teyvat, and when you were called to travel over there with only Ayaka to accompany you, they couldn’t help but fear what might happen once you cross those borders.

“They’ll be fine, Ning. Ayaka is very much capable of protecting our empress,” Beidou hums, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and planting a kiss on your temple. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

Ayaka —who was busy making sure all your things were well packed— jumped when she heard her nickname being called, turning to face Beidou. “Oh, of course. Our darling is in good hands, I pledged an oath to keep them safe, after all.”

Courtesan Ayaka turned towards you with a smile. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll be sure to protect you through rain or shine,” she held your hand protectively before leaning in to kiss you. “Though, in this case, mostly rain as Inazuma often has thundering storms.”

“That’s alright, I don’t mind.” You say calmly, letting Ayaka kiss you while Beidou gets the ship ready for your departure. She had to make sure the Crux was in tip top shape, as it would be holding the most precious cargo of all.

You.

“Fasten the ropes! Make sure everything is tightened to the best it could be! We are escorting the empress, anything that happens to them will be in your hands for the rest of eternity!” Beidou was always quite dramatical when it came to your safety, as she wanted her beloved to be well secured and protected in her hands. “Set the route to Inazuma! We shall arrive there by dusk!”

Ningguang looked at you one last time before suddenly hugging you before you could step foot on the ship.

“Please be careful, my love.” Ningguang whispers, burying her face into your shoulder. “If anything were to happen to you…I…” Your body tensed up under her voice, a tinge of guilt pulling at your heartstrings, as you’ve never heard Ningguang so worried before.

“…I promise I’ll be safe.” You whisper back, cupping the back of her head and giving your courtesan a gentle kiss. “Ayaka will be watching over me. Plus, Yelan taught me a few self defense techniques last week just in case.”

You smile warmly at your lover and assure Ningguang that everything is going to be okay. “If I somehow get hurt while in Inazuma then, well…feel free to kick my ass when I get home.”

“Darling, language.”

“Sorry, I learned that from Beidou.”

Ningguang chuckled at your innocence and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “Well, I’ll be sure to kick Beidou’s ass for teaching you that when she gets back home.”

In the corner of your eye you could see Beidou shivering as if she knew that she was being talked about in a bad way. The two of you chuckle at the sight of her squirming before turning to face your other courtesans waiting at the docks to say goodbye.

Ganyu was a little teary eyed, she was quite sad that you would be leaving Liyue for a while but there was a happy smile on her face nevertheless. She was currently clinging onto Keqing for stability, as Keqing simply pretended not to care or even worry. “Be back soon. Don’t get kidnapped or anything.” Keqing would murmur, looking away briefly as she wanted to hide how much she really worried for you.

“Of course, I promise,” you smile softly, looking over to your other courtesans; Shenhe and Yelan.

Yelan was currently holding onto Shenhe with all her might as she struggled to keep Shenhe from running up on the boat to join you. “Don’t worry about her, my empress. I can stop her!” Yelan would groan, keeping Shenhe tightly in her grasp while the disciple tried her hardest to reach you. “Shenhe please stop moving, I don’t want to use my hydro ropes on you.”

Shenhe was silent as always as she simply craved to be in your presence at all times. She looked up at you with the neediest eyes you’ve ever seen on the woman and it made your heart stop.

“…I’ll be back soon, Shenhe.” You say in a gentle tone, watching as she slowly stopped struggling and simply looked up at you with devoted eyes.

“…Okay.” She says quietly, leaving Yelan to wheeze as she could finally take a break from her struggling. “If you are ever in danger, I will come running as fast as I can.”

“Inazuma is surrounded by water.”

“I will swim as fast as I can.”

You chuckle at Shenhe’s dedication before moving forward to kiss her cheek. “I love you too.” You murmur against her ear, causing the adepti student to blush while doing so.

“What? No kiss for me?” Yelan teases, smirking down at you from beside Shenhe.

“Fine,” you hum, giving Yelan her fair share of kisses before Ganyu runs up from behind and hugs you. “I’d like a turn.” She smiles, nuzzling your face against hers as she rubs her horns against your head.

“Okay, okay…” you giggle, letting your courtesans all suffocate you for kisses before turning over to glance at Keqing, who was still standing idly to the side trying not to appear needy.

…But you knew better than that.

“Do you want a kiss too, Keqing?” You smile sweetly, tilting your head at the Yuheng before watching the cutest blush ever form on her face. “I— w-well…” she bites her lip and can’t help but look away. “I suppose if everyone is getting one…”

You smile and run up to her to smother her in kisses. Peppering her entire face in light smooches before Keqing squirms in your grasp and squeezes her eyes shut.

“O-Okay, that’s enough,” Keqing murmurs, trying not to admit how flustered that really got her. “You should board now anyways, my empress. We wouldn’t want you to arrive terribly late.”

“Ah, you’re right.” You smile before giving Keqing one last kiss on the cheek. “I’ll miss you all. Please don’t destroy the palace while I’m gone.”

“Of course not. That’ll never ha—” Keqing side glanced at Shenhe and Beidou before frowning. “…We’ll be sure to clean up anything before your return.”

“I knew I could count on you!” you smile, patting Keqing on the head while she blushes. “Alright, I must depart now. I’ll see you all in two weeks.”

“Goodbye, darling!” Ganyu smiled, waving farewell as you began walking up to the Crux. Captain Beidou quickly moved down to the stairs before you could climb on, and extended an arm out to you for you to grab on. “Careful now, wouldn’t want the little royal to slip,” Beidou grins, escorting you onto her ship while she begins commanding her sailors for departure.

“Next stop! Inazuma!”

The ship starts to let loose its sails as it begins moving further and further away from the docks. You peeked your head out over the railing and watched as the sight of your beloved courtesans grew smaller and smaller, a tinge of sadness pulling at your emotions as you knew you were going to miss them most of all.

A small pair of arms hugs you from behind and you recognize the feeling as Courtesan Ayaka trying to comfort you. She rests her chin upon your shoulder and looks out at the shrinking sight of your lovers all standing on the docks of Liyue. “You’ll be back soon,” she comforts as she presses a small kiss to your shoulder. “In the meantime, I’ll be sure to entertain you on this trip so it’s not just all business.”

Ayaka smiles and begins listing off all the things you could do with her once you dock at Inazuma. From festivals, to nightly walks, to private bedroom activities in the comfort of the Kamisato estate, Ayaka quickly brought a smile to your face as you turned to face her with newfound excitement and eagerness to what’s to come.

Perhaps these next two weeks without your courtesans wouldn’t be so bad.

As you parted from the Crux Fleet, you gave Beidou one last kiss on the cheek before following Ayaka to her estate with your bags in tow. And by that I mean you had some of Ayaka’s servants carry your bags for you as she didn’t want your arms to tire after the long boat ride to Inazuma.

“Are you feeling tired, my love?” Ayaka asked softly, smiling to herself when she saw you looking around at Inazuma in awe. “…Or, perhaps you’re feeling excited at the thought of exploring a new region with me?”

“It’s a mixture of both,” you hum after some time, walking beside Ayaka with your hands conjoined.

“Then let us rest so that you are only excited for what’s to come,” Ayaka giggles, leading you to her estate as that is where you would be staying for the next two weeks of your time. Ayaka came from the wealthy family of the Kamisato Clan, so it was no surprise when you pulled up to a large estate with guards and servants around. You were used to it after all… “If it’s alright with you, you’d be staying in my room,” your courtesan murmurs, a tiny blush forming on her face. “In my bed…”

“I don’t mind,” you smile, a suggestive smirk forming on your face. “It’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before, princess…”

Ayaka flushes at your callout and clears her throat.

“Yes, well…I’ll be sure to make things comfortable.” She mumbles with a blush. “In the meantime, we should rest up for tomorrow’s meeting. The Shogun has requested you come to her estate as early as possible before the meeting.”

“Oh? Must I prepare for anything beforehand?”

“No, but…” Ayaka bites her lip and looks away. “The Guuji seems to have taken a special interest in you, my love, as she offered to serve you breakfast before the big meeting.”

“I see. How generous of them.” You chuckle, letting Ayaka cling to your arm affectionately. Your smile falters however, when you see the worried expression on your courtesan’s face, and you cup her cheek to make her look up at you. “…Are you alright, my dearest courtesan?” You ask with the gentlest of tones, concerned for the well-being of your beloved. “You seem quite worried.”

“Oh! Ah, well…I’m only really concerned about meeting the Guuji of the Narukami Shrine: Yae Miko.”

You tilted your head at her concern. “Whatever for?”

“Well, Yae Miko has a long history of being rather…flirtatious with beautiful people,” Ayaka sighs. “I have my concerns that she only invited you over for breakfast simply because she wants to flirt with you.”

She frowns at the thought and you feel her cling onto you harder.

“I know it is unprofessional of me, but I can’t help but be slightly worried. The three of those women are very powerful in more ways than one, so I only wish for your safety, my love.”

You smiled softly at this reveal and turned to kiss Ayaka on the cheek. “Thank you, I really appreciate it, darling,” you chuckle, “But don’t worry, you’ll be by my side the whole time. Plus, I can take care of myself.”

Ayaka smiles bashfully and nods. “…You’re right. You are the crowned empress of Liyue, you can handle a simple business meeting on your own.” She kisses you back and holds your hand. “Shall we head inside now? I took extra precautions to have my room ready for you.”

You chuckle softly at the thought and squeeze Ayaka’s hand even tighter. “How thoughtful of you, Courtesan Ayaka. Perhaps I should reward you tonight for your generosity…”

The princess grows red at your words and tries to hide how excited she was getting.

“I would like that, my empress.”

When you arrive at the Shogun’s estate, you feel a shiver run down your spine as you’ve never felt so tense and intimidated by a building before. Something about the prescience of the structure holding three of the most powerful beings in Inazuma was finally getting to you, as you squeezed Ayaka’s hand tighter while the two of you walked up the stairs.

“Are you nervous, my empress?” Ayaka asks gently, caressing your palm with her thumb as she was trying her best to ease your quivering nerves. “I suppose I am a bit nervous,” you chuckle quietly, trying to steer your feelings together before you could make a fool out of yourself. “But don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just first meeting jitters. Once we meet, we’ll settle for friendly conversation mixed with professionalism and—”

Once the doors opened however, you were greeted with the sight of a bored Shogun, a teasing kitsune, and an irritated tengu all sitting around a table lined with food. You took notice of how the majority of the foods available were sweet, as that must’ve been a personal request from the Shogun herself. (You took it upon yourself to study the Shogun’s preferences and learned that she liked sweets an awful lot. So much so that you’ve prepared a gift in advance for her in order to get on her good side)

“…Oh dear.” Ayaka murmurs, watching as the three women slowly turned to you at your arrival.

The pink haired kitsune —who you’ve come to know as Yae Miko— raised a brow once she saw you and smirked as she found a new prey to tease. The stone faced tengu general —who you’ve come to know as Kujou Sara— looked over at you with interested yet threatening eyes, almost as if she could kill you right on the spot.

And last but not least, the bored Shogun —Raiden Ei, the archon of their nation— perked up the moment she saw you enter, as she didn’t look so bored anymore. Her eyes followed you and Ayaka to your seats, as her purple irises locked onto you, knowing she would be in for a treat…

“Well you two certainly arrived earlier than expected,” Yae Miko chuckles, her eyes dancing from Ayaka to you. “Forgive us for bickering in front of the empress, your majesty. I am Yae Miko, Head Guuji of the Narukami Shrine.” Her tongue swiped over her bottom lip as she let her eyes roam all over your body. She liked what she saw, and she let you know it.

The intimidating general sighed and stood up to interrupt Miko’s sultry advances. She didn’t want you to get uncomfortable after all…

“It is an honor to meet you, my empress. I am Kujou Sara, appointed general of the Tenryou Commission,” she states while staring directly at you, holding an air of dignity around her while Miko giggles off to the side.

“So formal of you, my general.”

“Guuji Yae.”

“Enough, you two,” The Shogun suddenly says, standing up to give her own formal introduction. “I am the Raiden Shogun, dear empress, but you may refer to me as Ei during the duration of our time. We hope you find our proposals satisfactory and agreeable, my empress.”

She bows to you respectfully and the other two quickly bow in return, causing you to smile softly when they do so and turn to Ayaka with an innocent gaze. “They seem quite dignified,” you whisper to your courtesan, giggling all the while. “Perhaps this won’t be so bad after all.”

Oh how innocent you were. A cute, happy empress who had no idea that the other women were looking at you in a way that was akin to a fox staring at a bunny. Miko was licking her lips, Sara was clenching her fists together and Ei was closing her eyes as she was envisioning you in her lap like the little toy they wanted you to be…

But of course, you wouldn’t have any way of knowing that, right? After all, it’s not like thoughts can become reality…

“You should sit down and have a sip of tea, dear.” Miko smiles and ushers for you and Ayaka to take a seat at your chairs. She picks up a teacup for herself and begins sipping on what appears to be a matcha flavored brew. “I’ve done the liberty of asking all the chefs in the estate to make an assortment of breakfast foods that should cater to your palette. Although, some of them may be quite sweet thanks to a certain arrangement by someone…”

She gives Ei a teasing look while the Shogun frowns from her halfway bite of cake. She blushes at the obvious jab at her sweet tooth and clears her throat from the sugary swallow.

“…Sorry.”

You had to stifle your laughter as you found the Shogun…strangely cute. For someone who was feared throughout Inazuma and held great power, she was quite adorable when indulging in her sugary desires, something that made you want to slap yourself in the face as you came here to do business, not stare at pretty women.

“It’s alright, Raiden Ei,” you giggle, lifting up a slice of cake in an attempt to make her feel comfortable. “I too, fancy a little sweet treat every once in a while.”

Her eyes lit up at your words when you took a bite of cake along with her, the Guuji looking intrigued while the General looked surprised. You were quite cute as you tried to assure the almighty Shogun’s sweet tooth, and it made the archon’s heart stir with feelings of attraction and desire.

“…Yes. Yes, you understand me completely,” Ei smiles, looking down at her plate before continuing to eat her cake in silence. The kitsune giggling to herself at this exchange, while the tengu smiles softly at you in appreciation.

It seems like you’d fit right in with these ladies. Maybe more so than you think...

It took a while to get through breakfast —as the Shogun was quite a glutton for sweet and sugary things— but you managed to finish in due time with servants coming in to clear your plates. Ayaka dabbed at her lips with a napkin and smiled at the trio of powerful women.

“Breakfast was delicious, Yae Miko. Thank you for the invite and your hospitality.” She says softly, reaching a hand down to hold yours underneath the table. “I take it we will begin the meeting now?”

“Oh, why of course. But we mustn’t hurry too quickly, we have so much time with the empress after all,” Miko smirks at you with a hungry flicker in her eyes, almost teasing you in a way as the Shogun and her general lock eyes with your body. “No need to be so impatient, Ayaka…”

“F-Forgive me if I came off that way,” Ayaka’s cheeks turn hot. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, princess. I was merely teasing,” Miko giggles, her eyes glowing dark purple with an ominous hue.

“Miko.” Ei murmurs, casting her a glance as if to say “don’t toy with them too roughly.” Luckily, Miko gets the hint and sighs before snapping her fingers.

“I suppose we can begin the meeting now,” she murmurs, a few servants coming in to set down piles of papers and files on the table. Kujou Sara straightens her posture at the sight of the documents before her, and Ei sighs woefully as she hated doing anything remotely responsible but decided to suck it up and deal with it.

“We have quite a lot on our plate after the shutdown of Inazuma, but we hope it doesn’t strain you too much,” Sara says calmly, looking at you with sharp eyes. “Are you alright with this amount of paperwork, my empress?”

“I’ve dealt with a lot more during the awakening of Osial,” you chuckle softly. “Please don’t worry about me, I can take a mountain of documents no problem.”

Ayaka looked quite proud of you when you said this and the other three women looked intrigued. They all glanced at each other with knowing looks, before Ei nods and begins passing some of the documents over to you.

“In that case, let’s get started, shall we?” And with that, the five of you engaged in a brutal business discussion that lasted three whole hours (and counting) as there were so many things to discuss, it would take quite a few days…

While you were used to the long hours of work (thanks to being Ningguang and Ganyu’s lover) you took notice on how it was affecting the women around you as Ei looked bored, Miko looked like she was about to go zoomies, and Ayaka looked in pain because her wrist was cramping up from all the extra writing she was doing.

The only one who looked fine with it all was Sara, but even then, she kept sighing throughout the conversation as the general was more used to dealing with physical affairs rather than political. You knew it was time for a break and stood up abruptly in your seat, catching everyone’s attention immediately.

“How about a break?” You propose softly, looking up at the four women in the room. “We’ve been working for quite some time, I believe we all deserve some good quality rest, hm?”

You smiled so charmingly at them that the four women couldn’t help but stare at you fondly. “A break sounds wonderful, little one.” Yae Miko hums, dropping her pen to the floor. “I could use a stretch break myself.”

She smiled suggestively at you before Sara glares at her to try and keep it in her pants.

“Yes, I believe a break is necessary in order to keep going,” Ei exhales softly, rubbing tight circles into her temple. “I agree.” Sara says with a sigh, before looking over to you and Ayaka.

“Mm, perhaps we should have our lunch break now so we don’t continue working on an empty stomach,” Ayaka chuckles, caressing your hand before looking over at you. “Are you feeling hungry, my love?”

“Just a bit,” you smile, stretching your limbs to ease the muscle tension cramping up your back, but failing to notice the predatory look the Shogun, Guuji and General were giving you, as they were all eying you like a piece of fresh meat.

“…Why don’t we get the kitchen staff to cook us a meal?” Miko smirks cunningly. “Ayaka dear, do you mind heading down to the staff to tell them about lunch plans? I’m afraid it’s a long way down so if it’s too much of a hassle for you, that’s alright.”

“Oh no, I don’t mind Miss Yae,” Ayaka smiles, unaware of Yae Miko’s true intentions. “Shall I head down now?”

“That would be lovely, Miss Kamisato.” Miko grins, causing Ei and Sara to look at each other as if they knew what was about to happen. “Alright, I’ll be back soon then, my darling,” Ayaka hums, giving your hand one last squeeze before making her departure.

“See you soon, love,” you giggle, giving her a small wave of goodbye before being left in the room with Ei, Miko and Sara. Three women who lowkey scared you but you didn’t want to appear rude.

“…Well, isn’t she a sweet thing,” Miko purrs once she leaves, turning to face you. “Isn’t that right, empress?”

Her tone of voice leaves you speechless as it sends shivers down your spine in a warm, yet dangerous way. Sara narrows her eyes when she catches this however, and interrupts the kitsune from going further. “Guuji Yae, you shouldn’t address the empress in such a way,” she says sternly, before looking at you to see if you were alright.

“Oh, it’s alright General Kujou. I really don’t mind,” you hum softly, still eased in your seat as you were unaware of the tension starting to ignite in the air. “Hear that? The empress is alright with it, General.” Yae Miko grins, getting up from her seat to strut on over to where you were seated. “So you needn’t chastise me any longer…”

Sara scoffed at her words and turned away, annoyed with the kitsune’s antics but unable to do anything since Miko was a much higher rank than her.

Meanwhile, Ei was watching curiously as to what Miko was up to, and noticed just how close she was getting to you now that Courtesan Ayaka had left the room.

“You know, you’re quite pretty underneath that veil of yours, your majesty,” Miko hums, leaning against the armrest of your chair and using a clawed fingertip to push your chin upward. “You should show your face more often.”

“Ah, I’m afraid I can’t, Guuji Yae,” you chuckle bashfully. “The veil is a safety precaution. It’s to ensure my identity isn’t too well known to the public eye.”

“Oh, but you are simply just a treasure, little one…” Miko fake pouts, cupping your face with her hands and pulling you even closer.

“Miko.” Sara warns, not wanting to damage the professional atmosphere between you and the three ladies in the room.

“Oh calm down, Sara; I’m merely asking them for a proposal.” Miko tuts, tapping your cheek with interest.

“A proposal?” Sara asks with confusion, Ei following pursuit as she had been quietly watching this exchange the whole time. “Yes, birdie. A proposal.” Miko smirks, pulling your face closer to her. “I want to be one of your courtesans, little one.”

Your face flushed hot when she spoke in that sultry tone of hers, as Sara and Ei stood up from their seats.

“Miko, you can’t just ask—”

“Oh, don’t give me that talk, Sara,” Miko grins, looking over at the General with that sultry smirk of hers. “You two have been eying them since the moment they got here, be honest.”

“Miko—”

“I—”

Both Ei and Sara looked equally flustered, but both couldn’t deny the fact that they did harbor some kind of attraction to you the moment they saw you for the first time. Everyone’s eyes slowly turning to face you, as if anticipating your reaction for what’s to come.

“…Well,” you bite your lip and look away. “There are benefits and downsides to becoming a courtesan and entering the imperial harem. I don’t want any of you to be uncomfortable or disappointed, so please think wisely about this decision.”

“The only benefit I see is you, darling.” Yae Miko chuckles, brushing a strand of hair back. “I would be delighted to become a courtesan of your harem, so long as I get to have you in my grasp…”

“…In that case, I am not opposed to the idea either.” Ei suddenly chimes in, surprising the Guuji and the General greatly. “You are quite a gentle soul, and becoming engaged with the imperial harem will bring benefits to both sides if I’m not mistaken.”

You felt your heart leap at the Shogun’s proposal and you were starting to think this wasn’t real. The Guuji and the Shogun went to become your courtesans? This shouldn’t be real. What is happening right now?

“How bold of you, Ei,” Miko chuckles, still hugging you affectionately. “General Sara? Looks like it’s your turn to be honest about your feelings.”

“Guuji Yae—!” Sara’s face flushed red and she suddenly turned to look away. Too embarrassed to even glance in your general direction as it meant looking at the kitsune’s smug smirk and your cute, blushing face. “Oh General, don’t be like that,” Miko purrs, suddenly leaning in very close to your ear. “Why don’t we show the dear empress just how beneficial we are as courtesans…”

You suddenly yelp when Miko licks the shell of your ear, and Ei and Sara suddenly look alarmed. (And a bit aroused)

“Oh? Did I startle you my dear?” Miko hums, looking down at you in an apologetic way. “Forgive me, I’m just so tempted by my lust.”

“No, it’s alright. I am quite used to sudden affections such as that…” you bit your lip and felt blood rushing to your head. “But uh…are you sure it is appropriate to be doing this in the meeting room? In front of…” you gulped and looked over at the Shogun and the General, both of which were eying you like a piece of candy. “…Others.”

A devilish smirk grew on the kitsune’s face as she trailed a manicured nail down your cheek. “What? Are you afraid of Ei and Sara watching?” She casts them a grin and watches as the two squirm in their seats. “I thought the empress was used to having beautiful women watching them get pleasured. After all, you do have a rather large harem of women devoted to you…”

She purrs and trails her nail lower and lower until it is pulling against the fabric of your collar. Ei, Miko and Sara all collectively swallow their desire at the sight, salivating at the possibility of getting you naked right in front of them. “Besides, it’s not like Ei, Sara and I haven’t shared a person before…”

Your breath hitches when Miko starts moving her hand down lower to give your breast a squeeze. The tiny whimper that escaped your throat did not go unnoticed, as they all slowly inched closer in anticipation to what’s to come.

“Don’t worry, little one,” Miko giggles, waving Ei and Sara over with her finger. “We know how to work together fairly well.”

In a matter of moments, you had Miko pinning you to the chair and making out with you in front of Ei and Sara without a care in the world. You were blushing so much and simply let Miko have her way, as you were used to this situation thanks to your courtesans.

“Ei, come here and help me undress their clothes. Sara, help me carry them to the table. I want them all spread out for us.”

Miko was quick to take the initiative and soon you found yourself clinging onto Sara’s massive arms with Ei quickly untying your robe. You’ve never been manhandled so fast before, and the thought of being tossed around between these three powerful women had you soaking in your panties.

“The empress is so compliant, I’ve never seen anyone so obedient before,” Ei notes as she slips your robe off of your delicate body.

“That’s because they’re probably quite used to this by now,” Miko giggles, two hands moving up to squeeze at your breasts, making you writhe and squirm with need. “Hold still,” Miko suddenly commands, before glancing up at Sara with a smirk. “Sara dear, why don’t you put those biceps to work and keep our Empress still for our break time?”

Although a bit shy, you saw the general move from the corner of your eye to wrap her arms around your neck and hug you from behind. You felt the strong, firmness of her arms holding you down, and soon you could feel all three pairs of eyes locked onto you. Almost as if they were undressing you in their mind with all the things they could do to you.

Now, normally you would be alright with this sort of arrangement, but the thought of Courtesan Ayaka coming back to see this made you frown and look away.

“A-As much as I’d love to entertain you all, I don’t want Courtesan Ayaka to come back and see me this way. She might feel…left out.” You say softly, looking at the three women with concern.

“Oh? That’s very thoughtful of you, my dear…” Miko chuckles, slowly pushing you deeper against Sara’s front, as she had no intentions of stopping soon. “But when Ayaka comes back, we can ask her to join us too, hm? Does that sound like a fair agreement for everyone?”

Sara nods and Ei looks excited, smiling at the idea of a potential fivesome.

“…Oh, Okay.” you murmur quietly, watching as their hands start to roam over the sculpture of your body.

“Excellent!” Miko grins, Ei and Sara staring down at you with delight before moving to touch and grope at your body. Long fingers and calloused palms rubbing against that smooth, soft skin of yours and showing a stark difference between spoiled royalty and hard working fighters.

‘So rough!’ You can’t help but think, whimpering as Sara and Ei’s scarred hands rubbed so tenderly above your chest. Miko’s lithe and feminine fingers running up to your bra to unhook it and set your nipples free. “May I?” The Guuji asks with sexual undertones, Sara leaning in to kiss your neck as Ei watches hungrily for the reveal of your breasts.

“A-Ah…you may…” you mumble with a blush, watching as the kitsune skillfully undid the loops and dropped your bra to the floor. In an instant, Ei licked her lips and dove in to suck on one of your nipples with her tongue. The hot, wet, muscle pushing and circling around the areola, as she begins leaning forward to smother more of your breast into her mouth.

“Nngh—!” Your eyes widened at the pleasurable touch and you buck your head back against Sara’s collarbone, Miko laughing sadistically at the sound, before pushing you back towards her with Sara still gripping onto your body.

“My, my, that’s a cute sound you made, my empress…”

Miko smirks, the wet sucking sounds of Ei pleasuring you only fueling the dirtiness of the overall situation. You couldn’t help but blush as Sara reaches a hand forward to grope at your other breast, as the Shogun and the General seem fascinated by the shape and feel of your flesh.

“Tsk tsk, it’s my turn now Ei,” Miko scoffs after some time, staring at how addicted her Shogun became after just one taste of your nipples. “Move.”

Only the Guuji could command the Shogun like this as she gripped the back of Ei’s head and pulled her away from your puffed up nipple. A string of saliva connects Ei’s tongue to your tit, as Miko quickly takes her place and begins sucking over your nipple like Ei once did.

“Mmpf…” Miko grunts, closing her eyes in pure bliss as she wraps her mouth around your right breast. Ei panting after her turn on your tits, before looking up to kiss you and get a taste of your tongue too. ‘So sweet…!’ Ei couldn’t help but think, parting your lips with her tongue as she Fontaine-kissed you in a way that had you squirming for more.

“Hold still,” you hear Sara grunt from behind, suddenly grabbing your waist and causing you to gasp when she palms your rear.

“For an empress who seems so docile, you sure squirm quite a bit…”

Sara’s husky tone makes you shiver as she moves her hand down to slide over the hidden confines of your legs. Ei and Miko were too occupied with your boobs and mouth to even notice, as Sara decided she was going straight to the main event.

Her rough and calloused hands start palming at your crotch hungrily with a desire to feel your warm, dripping, cunt. The Tengu could barely keep herself from giving into her desires and just ripping up your panties with her nails, stuffing you full with those thick, muscled fingers of hers as she wanted nothing more than to hear you scream.

“…Hey,” you hear Ei murmur, parting from your lips to look down at Sara trying to fuck you early. “General Kujou.”

Sara freezes when she hears her archon catch her, and shyly pulls her hand away from your lower areas. You groan at the loss of contact from down there and pout with frustration, so used to getting your way so quickly.

“Sorry.” You hear Sara murmur in guilt, the Guuji slowly pulling away from your breast and licking up all the saliva that dripped from her lips. “Oh? Is the great General Kujou so eager to have the empress fucked out on her fingers?” She purrs, watching as both you and Sara flush hot at her words.

Ei pouted when she saw how worked up you were getting from Sara’s secret fondles, so she decided to take matters into her own hands and reach down to slip her own fingers into your panties to prod and push at your swelling clit.

“Ah—!”

“Ei?”

“My shogun!”

Sara and Miko looked genuinely surprised when Ei suddenly started toying with your clit, too mesmerized by the reactions you were giving her to utter a single word.

“My, my, how bold of you, Ei…” Miko tuts, watching as more of your privates were revealed to the three women in the room. “It seems like you’re the Shogun’s new addiction, my dear empress.”

The kitsune smirks at the way you squirm and writhe in her grasp, as the Shogun’s hands start to peel back the fancy undergarments of your bottoms and rub circles into the flesh of your clit. Their eyes glazed over with arousal the more they saw how puffy it was getting, and Sara nearly lost herself as she had to clench her fists together to keep herself from fucking you now.

The more you whimpered, the tougher it became to hold back. As all three women wanted to stuff you raw with their fingers until you were left creaming over the table and staining all their precious documents with cum.

“So pretty…” you hear Ei murmur as she locks eyes onto your puckering and dripping hole. Licking her lips as she imagined just how sweet you’d taste sitting on her face with your pussy riding her tongue.

“They are pretty,” Miko agrees, deciding to move two fingers downward and spread your folds apart for all to see. “I wonder if…ah…”

Ei practically moans at the sight as she sees just how wet and sensitive you were from all three women toying with you. It was a sight that made her want to kiss Celestia as she’s never seen such a pretty pussy in person.

“Fuck…” you hear Sara groan, eyes staring at your hole with need as she moved her hand down closer to your entrance.

“Do you think they can take all three of us at once?

“Oh, I bet they could.” The Guuji grins, eager to see how much you could take before making a mess of yourself on the table. “Spread your legs a little wider, darling. You can take all of us, I’m sure you can…”

In a blur of sex-drunk daze, you moan when Ei suddenly enters and plunges her finger deep inside you. Then Miko, then Sara, and then Ei again as she just couldn’t help but stuff a second one in there.

“Oh—! Fuck…” you whine, gripping onto Sara’s muscular arm in order to stabilize yourself from losing it. “Fuck? Did the empress just curse?” Miko laughs, starting to finger you faster. “Who taught you to have such a foul mouth, little one?”

You grit your teeth and can’t help but curse out Beidou in your mind. The pleasure just too good for you to remember your manners, as Ei, Miko and Sara all stuffed you full with fingers that felt so thick and long.

“More…” you mumble exasperatedly, eyes rolled back in ecstasy as Sara moves forward to kiss your neck. “More?” Miko whispers back with glee, eyes lighting up with newfound desire. “The greedy little empress wants more?”

You pouted at Miko’s taunts and looked away to hide your embarrassment.

“Oh, don’t be shy…” Ei murmurs while cupping your face. “We’ll gladly give you more if that’s what you want…”

Ei smiles softly before thrusting her fingers even deeper into you, loving how tensed up you got the harder she went as you were just a precious sight for the archon to admire.

“You’re getting quite tight now, my empress,” you hear Ei whisper, raising her thumb to toy with your clit. “Are you close? Are we making you close to your climax?”

Miko and Sara chuckle amusingly at the sight before stirring their fingers even faster in you. Wanting to see your juices coating their fingers as evidence for how good they were making you feel.

“I’m…Ah…close…” you moan, throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling as shaky breaths and whimpers claw out of your throat. “Harder…Harder…”

“I had no idea the empress was so needy…” Sara husks into your ear, using her other hand to grope at your breast. “Looks like I’ll have to teach them a thing or two about patience…”

You whine as Sara squeezes your breast roughly and begins attacking your neck with dark hickies. Determined to mark you with her teeth while speeding up the thrusts of her thick and calloused fingers. Too lost in the pleasure, you could barely keep yourself sane as you failed to comprehend the sounds of Miko talking to the door. A muffled conversation happening between the three women and a fourth, as the only thing you could hear was,

“Glad you can finally join us, Ayaka.”

From the outside door to the room, Ayaka had been watching through a slim crack in the doorway, masturbating to the sight of her empress being ravaged by the Shogun, Guuji and General all at the same time. She couldn’t help but grow slightly aroused the moment she saw you being fucked dumb, and while she was embarrassed at first, the little droplet of slick that ran down her thigh indicated that she should take care of it as soon as possible…

For the past few minutes or so, Ayaka had her fingers under her dress, fucking her tight, needy, hole to your moans while trying her best not to give up her hiding spot. She felt so perverse, so dirty at the things she was doing, but she couldn’t help but do it anyway, too turned on to care.

So much precum had dripped down her thighs, staining her panties white, while her fingers moved in and out. So close to her release, so close to her climax until she heard something that snapped her out of her daze.

“Would you like to join us, Ayaka?” Miko’s muffled words came from within, causing the princess to gasp once she was caught. “…The empress seems quite keen on making sure you have a turn too. Let’s have a go with them together, shall we?”

Ayaka blushes at the mention of you wanting her to have a turn, and she couldn’t help but let her love for you push through her embarrassment.

She pulls up her panties, wipes off some of her precum, and takes a deep breath to calm down her libido before pushing the door open to see what was going on inside. Her face immediately flushes red at the sight, as seeing your fucked out expression in the middle of those three quickly turned her on again.

“Oh, my empress…” Ayaka murmurs quietly, soaking through her panties once more. “You look so…so…”

“Delicious.” Ei finishes for her, pulling her fingers out of your hole to taste the slick you produced from your orgasm. She hums pleasantly at the taste, before turning to Ayaka and outstretching her hand out to her, fingers still wet with cum and saliva.

“Come, let us enjoy this sweet treat together. The empress is a delicacy meant to be shared after all…”

#raiden ei smut #ei smut #ei x reader #raiden ei x reader #yae smut #yae miko smut #yae x reader #yae miko x reader #kujou sara smut #kujou sara x reader #ayaka smut #ayaka x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin women x reader #genshin women smut #genshin imagines #empress au

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urspiritualnurse · 3 months ago

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Pick a card. (Left to right)

What do I see when I orbit around your soul?

Pile 1.

Predominantly shapeless souls, sometimes harvest itself into a form that it's beholder deeply lacks, wants, yearns, desires or the opposite, fears.

I see that yours has mimicked a root.

Why has it shaped itself to that, what desires or what subconscious motive caused it is something you will naturally realize at your own pace and timing.

I see the repeated number 9s in the cards, and in this case I perceive that number as a blockage, a mid stop, a constantly frequenting incompletion, just when you believe you are about to reach the complete numeral 10, it restarts back to 1, and so begins the continuous sishyphean cycle.

If you picture a root digging in the soil and entangling itself to every fibre and grain of it, that imagery is usually delicate, gentle, soothingly heartwarming .

But in your cards, the picture I visualize is rather hostile , as if every string of that root has claws, shredding each grains, piercing through any and every vitality of the land to dig itself down, so fiercely and so passionately, as if it's life depends on it.

With no end goal, destination in mind, that it is aware of, it just absentmindedly keeps on digging.

I see you going from people to people, community to community, anywhere and everywhere, with your roots clawing on every connections you have had, with a pure intentions to find solace but your desperate and devoid roots knows no other way to plead firmness, and stability except digging furiously onto everyone and everything.

Do you find yourself to be an uncomfortable being to be and be around?

Has your soul crossed you out from being its land where it can simply ground itself?

Has it found other candidates instead to have them fulfill your role?

Do you have someone that you feel is the epitome of comfort?

Ask yourself, when I'm nearing their existence, my soul's form which I have no awareness about, how is it approaching and interacting with them?

Your soul is wandering sad and desperate to feel a sense of connection to a land that it can call its own, why are you uncomfortable to your ownself? That is for you to unpack and unravel.

What can you do to call your beloved vital essence back to yourself?

Start by asking, "why do you make your soul uncomfortable ?"

( your vital roots will inadvertently be claws to the lands, that isn't yours to dig.)

Pile 2.

Anger is an advocate of those too timid to speak.

But if anger is unsupervised, unguided, unguarded, it denotes to the onlookers, that it is only a mere tantrum with loud speakers on, consisting the blend of generous vulgarity and crude language.

I see, in this pile humiliation has been the main force behind reasonable outbursts of anger.

Was there a crowd who laughed when you would scrunch your expression in fury? Was there a community that mocked your anger's sensibility and intelligence?

From this reading, an image of a canine species comes to my mind, whose fangs represents your justified anger, yet I see those fangs growing so tall and untamably beyond the line of normalcy, that it pierces through the specie's snout, making it unable to voice out the core reasons in sensible, coherent language and speech.

Your anger, (and I keep wanting to reassure you) is justifiable, valid.

Yet it has reached to a point of such humiliation, and provokery from the flocks of lunatics around you who are too insensible and too uncompassionate themselves to ever see past your fury.

That your anger has surpassed its own ability to communicate.

It has lost the language it is meant to use for efficient self expression that causes no harm to you and others and also the reality around.

Have you heard the term "blacking out", your anger goes through that quite a lot.

Don't be too hard on yourself, or your burning anger, for that is the only warmth that is loud for you to notice , that is emanating from within you, not others.

A warmth that says, "I care."

Do what you must, after reading this pile.

But my utmost suggestion would be, communicating with your anger.

Ask it, who is it angry at? What did they do? What did they caused?

Nomatter who the culprit behind it is, whether your ownself or others.

Just notice how the anger responds to your question.

Does it howl incoherent language?

Does it throw things around and punishes inanimate objects, walls with your

knuckles?

Or does it speak.....

In a language that only those who are truly listening can understand.

(Insensibility towards a disheartened child, is what leads to a tantrum.)

Pile 3.

Do you know in this whole play of existence, we all expect certain things from the earth that we reside in.

And if we were to put all those collective desires in a single piece of paper, one would notice a common thing from each anonymous man's written desires.

Luminosity.

Every living being with a thrifty sense of individuality, somehow always seem to find anything luminous, desirable.

Or maybe, it's just that, what you want always seems to shine.

Whether it's love, promotion, prosperity, good health, vacation, etc.

I see in this pile, the luminosity you desire is of riches and the freedom that it comes with.

And when I speak of freedom, you must know how grand and multi dimensional it is.

The freedom riches gives, the freedom love gives, the freedom good health gives, etc, are all different yet they all are indeed a valid face of the multifaceted term, freedom.

I see you, having almost a professional outlook and interactions with the world, the earth.

I can almost hear you speak to it, " You are letting me live here, I will pay you back for your service by not throwing litters around, donating to charity that cleans your vast back, agreeing on plastic bans, etc"

In all of those chat you hold with the earth, in your subconscious mind room.

You represent formality and such alienating disconnection, that your inner sense of disbelief towards anything that promotes unity is reasonable.

What you want from this world is a luminosity build by luxury.

No shame, no bringing forth discussions about compassion here because the synonym of riches doesn't mean cruelty, for me to ever dictate you of how you should be and must pursue.

Do you ever feel like escaping your office and the very building you work on?

Somedays the formality eats you up and chews your mental agility and spiritual resilience, so much so you just wish to be at home, playing with your autistic and unspeaking cat.

You can do that.

You can call off the work.

You can reach out to the elevator and press the ground floor that takes you to the parking lot, there will be your car waiting for you, you can get in it and drive away from the office, the work air.

But what will you do when the crushing formality surrounds not just that place, but the entire earth?

Can your car drive you up to mars? To the moon? To the stars?

For you to escape even for a second, out of such professionalism burdens that you inhale every living seconds of your life.

In this reading, I see no visions that I must introduce you to.

You are already a visually active person, you think with visions not just numbers.

By no means this reading insinuates you of being unkind or lacking in any humane qualities.

Neither is it a complain from the mother earth to you.

Take it as a gesture unfolding infront of your awareness.

A gesture that suggests sensibility in your life.

Even the faintest mimickery of sensibility has acquired you a tip of what you yearned for.

Ponder, what the real thing could pull.

(Has the professional interiors followed you, even to your bed?)

Pile 4.

I must introduce you to an objective of mine that suggests what this outside world consists of, happens discreetly within our interior too.

Adversity, competition, push and pull, dog eat dog world pace, etc.

And how you may ask?

Every external worldly tension stems from various reasons, one that stands to this day, the most valid is, lack.

The uprising heat and debates, the battles of winners and losers are here, not just because of human sadism to win but to also get hands on a place, position, thing,etc before someone else does.

Which comes from an arguably devastating narration that we all collectively feed on, lack.

Your internal world seems to be a world copied and pasted from our very reality.

You seem to tell your internal conscious residing within you, that you lack space so severely that to be accepted for residence, one must go for the other to find the leash.

Competion arises the moment lack wanders around introducing itself.

Your masculinity and your feminity will compete for a position because you told them, only one must stay.

Your anger and the contradicting poise of a breeze will compete the moment you say to yourself, i need only one to navigate.

Your mind and heart will start to clash, get into heated arguments that spiral you into madness, depression, anxiety and mental , physical, emotional, spiritual agony.

Because you told yourself, only one is reasonable, the other is not.

That only one is reliable to execute life with, the other is not.

So, when your whole internal cells that makes up your entirety feels like a war zone,

a telenovela about a sibling rivalry, the marching tension between you and your competent colleague, or the ticking time bomb that ticks rules such as the one who gets there first gets to have it, etc.

You must know, it is because a narration is being given with or without your awareness.

That says,

I lack.

I lack so, what I consist entirely of, must decide with each other, who is to get deducted and who is to stay.

In this reading I don't think I need to guide you into answers because you already are aware.

But as a gentle nudge, here goes my everything.

" Lack only exists in places where prosperity unsettles us."

(Stop playing "the floor is lava" with the entirety of yourself.)

#pick a card #tarot pick a card #spirituality #divination #tarot reading

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spookieloverslittlemind · 3 months ago

Text

Petnames you call them…

includes: Michael Myers, Pinhead, Brahms Heelshire, Art the Clown, Sun and Moon (fnaf), Marta (Outlast 2)

Michael

He doesn’t tend to react differently to any petnames you call him, even for the very first time, but somehow he always knows you’re referring to him. Michael, Mike, Mickey, Mick- you called him Mickey Mouse once and he just stood there with his typical -_- and you laughed your way to an asthma attack. If you’re looking for a guaranteed head-tilt-to-the-side-like-a-puppy reaction, any variation of “pookie” will do it. Pookie, pooks, shmookums, the more sickly sweet and oddly fitting to The Shape, the better.

Pinhead

Does not tolerate being called “pincushion” when cuddling so stop doing it. Also does not tolerate being called “cheese” when he takes some of his pins out of his face and you can see the holes in his skin. Prefers the more casual petnames like “babe”, “love”, “handsome” because when compared to his more flowery and poetic language, Pinhead enjoys the simplicity of those terms coming from you.

Brahms

You KNOW this mf loves any petname that babies him, including “baby”. Anything sweet and endearing - including literally calling him “sweet” - like “beloved”, “angel”, “pretty boy”, “sweet boy”, and even “handsome man” because he will PREEN under your praise.

Art

Likes it when you call him silly but sweet things: your “favourite clown”, “court jester”, “silly boy” - he likes when you call him yours, especially. Because Art cant speak, he appreciates when you reciprocate his sign language and gestures just as much as he does your petnames, if not more; Art likes when you flick his nose after he’s flicked yours, when you beckon him over with a gesture like he does to you. Communications that are only understood between the two of you.

Sun and Moon

These two are pretty self-explanatory: they like petnames that are synonymous with them. Sun likes to be called “sundrop”, “sunshine”, “sunbeam”, “light of my life”, “rainbow”; Moon likes to be called “moondrop”, “moonlight”, “star”, “starlight”, “lucky star”, etc. The closer it is to their names and the more creative it is, the more they’ll enjoy the petname!

Marta

None of your typical petnames apply here, and you have to be careful what you call Marta if not her name. She does not like flowery petnames or cutesy ones, or flirty ones because those are sinful - if you call her “angel”, she might actually kill you - but she does like compliments, so it’s probably best you stick to those. Calling her “strong”, “righteous”, “God’s trusted and humble servant”, those will all go down well. You’re walking on eggshells testing out new petnames, too. Sometimes she will scoff but yield to you calling her “pretty”, because in her heart Marta is just a girl <3

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turquoisemagpie · 3 months ago

Text

It’s strange, but in a world where any previously beloved creator/influencer/celebrity can get caught for doing unforgivable actions in secret and then have their achievements wiped from the halls of fame, I find it comforting to see those affected by the downfall (be it fans or previous innocent associates) getting a sudden energy - maybe spite, maybe vengeance, maybe self-forgiveness - to make create something themselves.

So, your childhood author/voice actor/ tv show or movie writer has turned out to be a cunt? Time to go through a fucked up version of the 5 stages of grief. But when you reach acceptance, a stage where the acceptance is of what’s past is past and who guilt really belongs to, there’s a sudden burning urge to right a wrong. “Sadly, I was inspired by this.” - is it really a ‘sadly’ if you saw something good and can hold that recognition while also recognising what’s a good person and what’s a bad person? There is no 1000% good person - everyone has vices, but does that mean everyone is 1000% evil otherwise? There is an even chance of good and bad, and the fact you know that and can spot a bad thing from good, means you’re in a fair state of mind. So…. why not write your story?

“No one wants to read my story.” - if no one has read it besides you, how would you know that?

“Someone will have a similar idea” - but no one would have imagined it in the same language, colours, sound, taste, size or shape as you.

“Someone will make a story better than me.” - and in this day and age, they might turn out to be bad and be wiped from history for their crimes, and their stories with them.

But those stories still need to be told, regardless of whose lips they pass through.

Disconnect from the paralysis of admiration, believe in yourself - in spite of destruction, create.

#magpie ramblings

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barrenclan · 6 months ago

Note

the way that pre-defiance Rainhaze's fur is drawn with softer shapes but during his time in defiance his fur is spikier... shape language my beloved

Never trust a guy who is pointy.

#ask #rainhaze

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nihilityuniverse · 4 months ago

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𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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

ENG is not my First language

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

Do NOT Repost

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Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐔𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚

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"Long ago, in the timeless realm of Liyue, there was a story of love and envy, a tale that has been passed down through the ages. It speaks of Morax, our Geo Archon; Guizhong, the gentle and wise goddess; and a woman of unparalleled beauty and mystery, known to all as the Unknown Beautiful Lady.

The Beautiful Lady was a vision of grace and charm, her presence as enchanting as a moonlit night. Her beauty and elegance captivated even the gods. Morax, our protector, and Guizhong, the embodiment of wisdom, both adored her deeply. Their love formed a harmonious bond, unbreakable and pure.

Yet, this divine trio's tranquility was threatened by Osial, the formidable sea lord. Osial, consumed by envy, coveted the love and devotion that Morax received from his two beloveds. His heart twisted by jealousy, he sought to disrupt their happiness and claim their affections for himself.

Osial's envy grew into a dark cloud of deceit. He whispered malicious lies, hoping to fracture the trust and love between Morax, Guizhong, and the Beautiful Lady. But their bond was resilient, withstanding his insidious attempts to sow discord.

Frustrated by his failure, Osial confronted Morax directly. The confrontation was a cataclysmic clash of divine forces, their battle shaking the very heavens and earth. Osial, driven by his green-eyed fury, accused Morax of hoarding the love of the Unknown Lady and Guizhong, proclaiming that such affection should belong to him.

Morax, steadfast and noble, stood his ground. He fought not only with the strength of a god but with the fierce love he held for the Beautiful Lady and Guizhong. The battle raged on, a testament to the destructive power of jealousy and the indomitable strength of true love. Ultimately, Morax sealed Osial away, imprisoning him in the depths of the ocean to safeguard Liyue and his cherished ones.

And so, dear listeners, this legend became a poignant reminder of the enduring power of love and the perils of envy. The Beautiful Lady's ethereal beauty and mystery, Guizhong's enduring loyalty and wisdom, and Morax's unwavering strength and love form the heart of this timeless tale.

As we gather here tonight, let us remember the lessons of this story. Love is a powerful force, capable of withstanding the darkest storms, while envy and deceit can lead to ruin and despair."

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Striking amber-colored eyes with yellow, diamond-shaped pupils intently listened to the old tale spun by the Storyteller. Despite the early morning rain, the hustle and bustle were nothing extraordinary for the residents of Liyue.

The storyteller's corner was fully packed, with people eager to hear the old legend. His smooth lips touched the rim of a heated cup, and as he took a sip, the flavorful liquid danced on his tongue. A relaxed hum escaped his lips, expressing his delight at the tea's rich taste.

"Woah, the story was awesome!" Paimon exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement. "What did you think, Aether?"

Aether nodded thoughtfully, "Interesting, at least," he said, taking a sip from his own cup. He then turned his gaze to the handsome gentleman known as Zhongli. "But did it really happen, or is it just a tale?" Aether asked.

Zhongli only smiled and continued to drink his tea peacefully, the steam rising in delicate tendrils around his face.

"Hmpf, Zhongli! Please tell us!" Paimon demanded, her feet kicking the air in impatience. "At least the name of the beautiful woman!" She flew closer to Zhongli and whispered eagerly.

"Oh, are you truly so eager to hear?" Zhongli responded with a smile. "I thought you might find the old tale boring, considering you both seemed to daze off from time to time."

The rain continued to patter softly against the cobblestones, mingling with the distant sounds of morning vendors setting up their stalls. The air was thick with the scent of rain and the subtle aroma of tea leaves.

Paimon pouted, "We were just... uhh... absorbing the atmosphere!"

Zhongli chuckled softly. "Very well. The tale, as with many old stories, contains elements of truth and myth. The beautiful woman in the story... well, she was indeed real."

"Can you tell us more about her?" Paimon asked, her curiosity beaming.

Zhongli's gaze wandered to the rain, and a genuine yet bittersweet smile appeared on his lips. "She liked the rain a lot. Her voice, soft yet light as silk, would always say..."

- "As the raindrops tumble, their pitter-patter on my umbrella whispers gently to me. I somehow find brief serenity in these moments." -

He recalled her standing in the rain, holding her crimson red paper umbrella.

The raindrops danced on its surface as she extended her hand towards the falling droplets. She slightly turned around to face Zhongli, her peachy lips painted the same color as her umbrella. Her face was half obscured by the umbrella, yet her words resonated clearly.

The memory of her was vivid in his mind, a moment untouched by the erosion that slowly devoured his old memories.

"Y/N... That is her name," Zhongli mumbled, rolling her name off his tongue as his gaze remained fixed on the rain and the passing people.

Paimon and Aether exchanged glances, their faces reflecting a shared sadness as they saw their friend's distant expression.

The early morning rain continued to fall, creating a soft, soothing melody against the cobblestones. Lanterns hanging from shop eaves and street corners swayed gently in the breeze, casting warm, golden light that danced with the raindrops.

The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and the subtle fragrance of tea leaves from the nearby stalls. The crowd had thinned, yet the lingering presence of Zhongli's story created a bubble of quiet reflection.

Aether took a sip of his tea, savoring the warmth that contrasted with the cool, damp air. "She sounds like she was very special to you," he said softly, his voice carrying a note of understanding.

"She was," Zhongli replied, his voice tinged with both reverence and sorrow. "Her presence brought a sense of tranquility that I have rarely found elsewhere. Even now, the rain reminds me of her."

Paimon hovered closer, her usually energetic demeanor softened by the weight of the moment. "Do you think we might ever meet her?" she asked, her voice hopeful yet gentle.

Zhongli's smile returned, though it was tinged with melancholy. "Perhaps. The world is vast, and fate has a curious way of weaving our paths together. Until then, let us cherish the memories and stories that keep her spirit alive."

The rain began to lighten, a delicate mist rising from the ground as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds.

In this serene moment, a crimson red paper umbrella appeared amidst the bustling crowd. Its vibrant red hue pierced through the throng of people, a color deeply etched in Zhongli's memories.

His eyes widened in disbelief, and his cup slipped from his hand, shattering into tiny pieces on the cobblestones. Yet, the sound was lost to him. Everything became muted, his vision blurring as he saw that unmistakable red on her lips, her face.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move.

Was he hallucinating? Was the after-rain playing tricks on his mind? Was he daydreaming?

As the red paper umbrella grew smaller in the distance, Zhongli's heart pounded in his chest. Suddenly, he sprang to his feet, the wooden table toppling over in his haste. He didn't care. He moved forward, pushing through the crowd, chasing the umbrella as if his life depended on it.

The streets were alive with activity, the early morning hustle blending with the gentle patter of lingering raindrops. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, casting soft, golden hues on the wet cobblestones. The scent of rain mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed tea and street food, creating an intoxicating atmosphere. Yet, all of this was lost to Zhongli. His entire being focused solely on the crimson umbrella, a beacon in the sea of moving figures.

People turned, startled by his sudden urgency, but he paid them no mind. His breaths came in short, sharp gasps, his vision narrowing on the retreating figure. The vibrant red color seemed to taunt him, slipping further away with every passing second. His heart raced, a mixture of hope and desperation driving him forward.

Was it really her? Could it be? The questions swirled in his mind, but he had no time for answers. He needed to see her, to confirm what his heart yearned for. The crowd thickened, but he pushed on, weaving through the throng with a determination that bordered on madness.

Finally, as he reached the edge of the crowd, he saw the umbrella come to a stop. The figure holding it turned, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, their eyes met.

The world around him seemed to freeze, the sounds fading into a distant murmur. It was her. The woman from his memories, the one he thought he had lost forever.

Tears welled in his eyes, and his breath hitched. He had found her. Or perhaps, she had found him. Either way, in that magical moment under the after-rain sky, surrounded by the vibrant life of the city, Zhongli felt a spark of hope reignite within him.

He had been given a second chance, and he wasn't going to let it slip away.

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You turned around to find out who was following you, and your eyes landed on a tall man with brown hair and striking amber-colored eyes. He seemed out of breath, as if he had been chasing you through the crowded streets.

You waited for a response from the stranger, but he kept staring at you, his gaze intense and unyielding. The crowd continued to pass by, casting curious glances in your direction.

"I'd be embarrassed too, getting stared at like that," you said, your voice breaking the trance he seemed to be in. Somehow, your words pulled him back to reality.

He skipped a beat as he heard your voice and stepped forward as if he were dreaming. "Y/N..." he muttered your name, and your eyes widened in shock.

Instinctively, you stepped back, your right hand drifting closer to your sheathed Divine Key.

"How do you know my name?" you demanded, narrowing your eyes.

A strange feeling gnawed at you, a sense that something bad had happened between you and this man. Yet, your memories of this place were fragmented, coming and going in a chaotic, disjointed order that left you feeling more confused and hurt rather than providing any answers.

You could feel in your bones that this man had inflicted great pain on you. There was something about him that screamed betrayal, something tied to Osial.

This man... this man... You gripped your scabbard tighter, ready to draw your weapon if necessary.

The air around you felt charged with tension. The gentle murmur of the crowd faded into the background, the world around you shrinking to just the two of you. The man took another hesitant step forward, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and regret.

"Please," he began, his voice soft and laden with emotion. "It's me, Mo-"

"Step back," you commanded, your voice icy and cold. Zhongli halted, a shocked expression taking over his face. Different, hazy memories sprang into your mind wildly, flickering like a faulty lantern. The pieces of your past were still too fragmented, too muddled to make sense of.

"Zhongli!" A shrill voice called from behind, snapping you both out of the tense moment.

The tiny figure of Paimon floated closer, her curiosity evident. "Why were you running..." she trailed off as she felt the murderous and cold aura radiating from you. Aether, sensing the dangerous presence, quickly stepped in front of Paimon and Zhongli, his expression wary. Yet, you noticed how his legs were shaking with fear.

Neither you nor the group in front of you moved or made a sound. The bustling crowd around you seemed oblivious to the tension, continuing their day as if nothing were amiss.

You focused on Zhongli, the man whose name triggered such a whirlwind of emotions and memories within you. Your right hand still rested on your sheathed Divine Key, ready to strike at any moment.

"Zhongli," you repeated, tasting the name on your lips. "Why did you call me by that name?"

Zhongli took a cautious step forward, his gaze steady despite the coldness in your eyes. "Because that is your name, Y/N. We shared many moments together... drank tea with Guizhong... why can't you remember?"

Aether, still shielding Paimon, looked between you and Zhongli, clearly unsure of what to do. "Maybe we should all take a step back and talk this out," he suggested, his voice gentle but firm.

'Guizhong?' you questioned in your mind. The name felt familiar yet strange, as did Zhongli's face. It was as though you recognized him from a dream you could no longer fully remember.

The confusion was palpable, and your hand trembled slightly on the hilt of your sheathed Divine Key.

"I suggest you leave me be," you said, your voice barely above a whisper but carrying an undeniable force. Without waiting for an answer, you turned and walked away.

Zhongli watched you go, his expression a mixture of sorrow and determination. He took a step forward, but Aether halted him, shaking his head. "Give her some space," Aether advised softly. "She needs time to sort through this."

Zhongli nodded reluctantly, his eyes never leaving your retreating figure.

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Many papers lay scattered across the metallic table. Dottore leaned over, his crimson eyes scanning document after document, his hand pressed to his forehead in deep concentration.

This was unexplainable.

It didn't make sense.

Yet, he was certain his eyes and mind weren't deceiving him about what he had witnessed after the funeral.

He quickly fetched another sheet of paper and a pen, determined to capture every detail of his experience once more.

The moment Innamorati turned toward the frozen church, the falling snow had stopped, as if time itself had halted. Could she possess the ability to stop time? But why would she use it then? For what purpose? He recalled her muttering, 'Meaningless...'

Then, he heard the sound of shattering glass, and he perceived everything and nothing simultaneously. In that instant, he felt worthless, reduced to nothingness.

...

Dottore threw the pen away in frustration.

In that moment, he had felt a presence. A divine and pure presence, untouched by filth, yet sorrowful and sad. It was unmistakably the presence of the Divine Creator. Dottore was certain of it.

The Divine Creator had finally arrived.

His crimson eyes rested on a metallic black box, sealed with a highly complex mechanism. Only he knew of its existence; neither Pierro nor Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa, were aware of it.

Innamorati, the 0th Harbinger. She was the Divine Creator, Dottore was convinced. Nothing else could explain that unexplainable moment.

He walked towards the box and unlocked it. Inside, a glass tube filled with golden liquid sparkled under the lab lights.

This was the only solution to confirm his theory. One way or another, Dottore would get his answers. He could hardly wait for Innamorati to arrive at his lab.

As he gazed at the golden liquid, he felt a mixture of anticipation and reverence. This discovery could change everything. The Divine Creator, hidden in plain sight as the 0th Harbinger, was a revelation of immense proportions.

Dottore's mind raced with possibilities. If his theory was correct, the implications were staggering. Not only for the Fatui but for the entire world of Teyvat. The thought of unraveling such a profound mystery filled him with a thrill he hadn't felt in a long time.

He carefully placed the glass tube back in its secure position and sealed the box once more. His heart pounded with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The arrival of Innamorati would either confirm his greatest hypothesis or shatter it entirely.

Either way, he was ready. Dottore's eyes gleamed with determination. He would uncover the truth, no matter the cost. The Divine Creator was within his grasp, and he would not let this opportunity slip away.

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