#sounds like unity to me :)
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"european trans women on this site talking about their petty little problems with "transmisogynists" like. fucking excuse me???? im a TRANS MAN living in AMERICA do you even give a shit about the shit thats happening over here??? you are NOT allowed to voice ANY of your lived experiences if i decide that they make ME look bad!!! this is INFIGHTING! this is MISANDRY!! now is NOT the time for you fucking evil tra- uh.,, trans radfems, to be WHINING about how we 'oppress you'. we don't. now shut up and let the MEN talk."
-actual post i saw on my tl just now (obviously paraphrased with key subtext lol)
#in case anyone was curious i will outline the issues in order:#1. the condescending mansplain scold-y tone. very prominent among misogynists cis and otherwise#2. announcing youre american at every given opportunity (used here for pity points). like. okayyyyyy#2.5. implying the state of the US wrt anti-trans rhetoric and legislation alike arent primarily targeting transfeminine ppl#and that trans men are effectively caught in the crossfire with legislation and otherwise are not NEARLY as socially affected#3. passive aggressively pretending as if the utter state of the US doesnt have ramifications on all other countries :/#3.5. effectively ignoring or undermining any non-US folks that may be affected by anti-trans political rhetoric (youre not us so who care)#4. asking for trans women to stop talking about genuine problems and grievances for the sake of “trans unity”#aka the “i dont want to think about your problems and i dont want you to make them my problem either” response#sounds like unity to me :)#5. “infighting” is basically a dogwhistle at this point; it deliberately muddies the waters. it makes it harder to talk about like#yknow. the actual infighting?#like i saw a reasonably popular artist get mistreated by some transmed prick earlier.#but its only “infighting” when women do it. otherwise everyones all “oh i cant believe theyd say something like this to you"#i can. ive been mistreated by scumlord transmeds from day one and the majority of them were guys#fucking hate that it happened to you of course but yeah no shit a lot of guys are assholes.#6. just call me a fucking slur if youre going to. it makes it easier for the both of us wrt determining tone#bonus: (less serious but still funny to point out) the way usamericans refer to anyone non-american and non-asian as “european”#we have countries actually. its not just some writhing coalescing amalgam of 'states'. YOURE the odd one out lol#again its not serious#its just like. im welsh. and welsh roma at that.#im not european in the same way that like a dutch or a german person is#half of europe hate my people for existing and then usamericans have the fuckin gall to call me a “privileged white european”#half you americans dont know shit about us or the ways in which we're mistreated#half you late teens he/him fags are using words that come from my fucking language#“its polari” where dyou think polari came from huh. dyou think it was just made up as a fun little code language?#queer ppl started to use it because it was already in use by other criminalized folks!! us!!#and for the record we're still effectively criminalized in the UK! theres a fucking mountain of legislature that targets us#ok yeah this is too ranty im turning off rbs on this bitch#usamericans are just on thin fucking ice at this point
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Bringing this back, because it's a good summary of my mood now that we're officially in the same month as Bad Batch S3:
#okay so this was a mistake#a crab mistake#from an assignment from about six years ago#when I was messing with settings in cinemachine and moving a model around in Unity#I saved it and slapped music on it because it made me laugh#and for occasions like this#sound on but sound down a bit
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bunch of people in the notes of Unity update posts saying 'this is only kind of a win, because we should still never trust Unity again' missing the point, which is of course we never trust Unity again. there was basically nothing they could do to earn developer's trust back at all, since long before the fee announcement. the question was would indie devs have to delete all their existing games and projects to getting slapped with a random fine, and the answer is no they don't. that's a win. now we continue to never touch Unity again
#like of course we don't trust unity. that wasn't in the cards#that makes me so sad because i remember learning about unity when i was looking into game dev like. fifteen years ago?#and it sounded so exciting and i always thought that eventually i'd learn how the engine worked and make some small games#and i never did but i always felt bad about not pursuing that given how accessible it was#and how many popular indie titles i started to see using it#and now. this. alas
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i call this: girl dinner
[ tidus ( narrator ): she says, "i'm sorry". he says, "it's fine". she's "willing" to face sin. she's "privileged". i didn't understand. ]
#outofcharacter / tbd.#i'm . rewatching some scenes from when yuna tells the group she's gonna marry seymour and .#i'm so normal!!! !! !!!#i love tidus so much like. .. the fact he really didn't know what was going on the whole time.#the [ i didn't understand ] hits sooo o oo much.#and like! auron is the only one who understand yuna's intentions of marrying seymour somehow.. .#like she gives a bs excuse like ' oh it's for yevon's unity ' -#auron: :I aight. sounds fake to me adj;sdjdf#[ she's naive; serious to a fault & doesn't ask for help. ]#auron & yuna's relationship .. .. GIRL DINNER GIIIIIIRL DINNER —
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On a brighter note I just finished watching the third studio session and I’m just 🥺🥹
#I love them smmmmmm#I thought they were gonna do all 5 songs bc lilac and Columbus were first#but no dear or apollodorus which… I get apollodorus#dear would’ve also sounded nice but ig they didn’t want to bog it down with all new songs#which that being said I feel like nachtmusik is severely neglected pls I actually think that’s my favorite from this year’s releases#but omg I cannot be mad abt part of me#I think I still prefer unity’s part of me and atlantis’s bff but I def didn’t expect those two songs#esp bff bc I thought if was a just the three of them song#which made the session version v interesting bc you get a bunch of added instruments#also ending on gahoujin is just insane#…I’m more scared for 12/2 now like are they ending phase 2? is that what it means??#new start new meetings??? are we starting phase 3?#their recent interview made me scared for their future phases even tho I feel like they’ll go on for a long while#misu.txt
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Tintin Tarot - A Fool's Journey, Part One. A collaboration with @josephscoat who knows a lot about tarot and other spiritual and cultural topics. They're a very talented writer too, so go check them out!
They first pointed out how perfectly the Fool tarot card mapped onto Tintin himself, and it led to me illustrating the Major Arcana as Tintin characters. I'm surprised Moulinsart hasn't released an official Tintin tarot deck yet, though knowing them if they did they'd probably just reuse existing art...
I wanted this set to reference the Rider-Waite tarot deck, as it's iconic! I tried to keep as much symbolism from this deck as possible, while incorperating a lot of appropriate Tintin references. It was important to us that none of these felt like a stretch, so we tried our best to find the best fit for each card, including the card's reverse meaning!
The Fool - New beginnings, taking risks, embarking on a new adventure, independence and blind faith. He even has a little white dog. Of course Tintin is the Fool! The yellow tights indicate he moves forward with self confidence, even if forwards means off a ledge. He carries a white flower, symbolising purity.
The Magician - Manifestation, creation, resourcefulness and inspired action. Calculus's inventions behind him are a nod to each element - the shark submarine represents water, the moon rocket represents fire, the sound weapon represents air and the white roses he creates for Castafiore represent earth! On the table we have Didi's sword, a bottle of Loch Lommond whiskey, a pentacle and King Ottokar's sceptre. This card is my favourite!
The High Priestess - Mystery, intuition and the subconcious mind. Madame Yamilah was the obvious pick, being canonically psychic! I incorperated the curtains from the theatre she performs at, as well as the columns Haddock knocks over, now in black and white to represent light and dark.
The Empress - Motherhood, protection, femininity. There aren't many parents in the Tintin universe, probably by design. Mrs Wang came to mind. I used phoenix motifs in her headress as in Chinese culture they are symbols of femininity, and are distinct from the fiery immortal birds from Greek mythology.
The Emperor - Fatherhood, authority, structure, control. Mr Wang runs a crime fighting organisation and is Didi and Chang's stern father. Dragon motifs represent masculinity, and I referenced ancient Chinese armour as a symbol of protection.
The Hierophant - Tradition, conformity. The Prince of the Sun sticks closely to ancient laws and traditions, but like the card's reverse, is open to new approaches, such as when he takes in Zorrino. I gave him some elements of the priest's clothing to symbolise the Prince's role as a religious leader.
The Lovers - Partnerships, duality and unity! Despite being identical, the Thomsons aren't related. They in fact come from different countries - one is from France and the other is from Switzerland. Me and my friend confirmed this fact at the Herge museum in Belgium! The card's reverse meaning, disharmony and loss of balance, is also very much in line with the Thomsons. I included the internet famous Gay Lions in the background!
The Chariot - Direction. Control. Willpower. These are the perfect descriptors for Arturo Benedetto Giovanni Giuseppe Pietro Arcangelo Alfredo Cartoffoli, the Italian driver that helps out Tintin and Haddock in the Calculus Affair. He may have only appeared for a few pages, and I may be the only person to get this reference, but he is a perfect fit. He drives.
Strength - Compassion, bravery, endurance. Not only has Chang demonstrated these qualities in Tintin in Tibet, he's had to endure a lot of hardship throughout his life, being orphaned, swept up in a flood and watching his home get torn apart by imperial forces. He still comes out the other side patient and compassionate, being one of the few people to recognise a form of humanity in the Yeti, and possibly being the one to change Tintin's entire political journey! Chang is draped with juniper berries.
The Hermit - Laszlo Carreidas is a lonely and isolated millionnaire who goes through a huge personality change. Being drugged with a truth serum makes him more honest and open. His base personality before his development fits with the card's reverse - isolation and a loss of direction.
Wheel of Fortune - Alcazar and Tapioca's conflict is an endless cycle of war for political control. The Wheel of Fortune represents cycles and inevitable fate. Reversed, it represents a lack of control - both Alcazar and Tapioca cycle between having absolute power and no power at all. I dressed Tapioca as Anubis as a nod to the original card!
Justice - I picked Miarka to represent Justice as she and her community are wrongfully accused of crime due to being profiled. Instead of a sword she weilds the golden pair of scissors she is accused of stealing, and the gemstone representing a third eye is the Castafiore emerald. The owl, a symbol of wisdom, and the magpie from the Castafiore Emerald sit beside her.
#fanart#tintin#adventures of tintin#tarot#illustration#snowy#milou#professor calculus#cuthbert calculus#madame yamilah#mrs wang#wang chen yee#the prince of the sun#thomson and thompson#arturo cartoffoli#chang#yeti#laszlo carreidas#general alcazar#general tapioca#miarka#photoset#is this a rdiculously large project?#yes but this is my entire thing. this is my Bit
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People on here: why is there so much infighting in the queer community??? Why can’t we all just get along and be a happy gay melting pot???
Me: yeah so my experience with other queer people has been very alienating since I’m a lesbian who dealt with some pretty bad comphet and it’s hard for me to find people who understand what’s that like, I also feel like people would like me better if I was bi since I get a weird vibe that people are uncomfortable with the fact that I don’t date men at all
Same people: ummmm actually the term “comphet/compulsory heterosexuality” is monosexist :/ you should just say “heteronormativity” instead. Also no one cares
Me:…all right. I can never talk to another queer person about my feelings again, thanks so much
#sorry someone was being stupid LOLLLLL#anyway I really hate ppl like this#they cry about wanting unity#but if someone says something they don’t like it’s suddenly like ‘haha go away now’#like do you want us all to get along or not?#because to me it just sounds like you want ppl to shove down their feelings to make you feel more comfortable#but idk maybe I’m just a dummy who doesn’t understand stuff#am I overreacting…idk#just me things#text post#delete later
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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐧
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | When Cregan Stark begins his search for a wife, some hidden feelings come to light.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 6,484(Idk what came over me okay!?)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mature Content-Explicit Descriptions Of Sex | Friends to lovers, Longing and pining, Love confessions, Possessive!Cregan, Smut: Piv, Oral(fem receiving), Clit biting, Hair pulling, Multiple orgasms, Biting/bruising(VERY MILD), Wife/marriage kink, Size difference.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I did not anticipate Cregan Stark pulling me out of my writing slump. But everyone say thank you Cregan! For those of you waiting for it, Hea Mēre is still coming. I just wanted to post something since I haven’t put any new works out here lately. Hea Mēre is coming SOON, though, I promise.
masterlist
Word had spread that the Warden of the North was in need of a wife. And so the great hall of Winterfell was now a symphony of merry music and proud spoken promises. Nearly every great house in the north flocked to Winterfell’s gates one after the other. Some lords arrived with nearly their whole households in tow. Some only brought their daughters.
Cregan, ever the loyal man, had welcomed them to his home as any good liege lord would. Demanding a feast be thrown in the honor of northern unity.
The revels had been at their height for hours now, and you took in as much as you could handle. As the night wore on, though, you found a need for respite. The boisterous laughter and clambering of drunk men was a muffled sound to your ears now. Out here in the chilly corridors, only the howling wind could truly be heard.
It had been close to a year since Cregan took the seat of his late father. Since then, the north has rallied behind him. Came to pledge their words of fealty and wish their lord prosperity. And now they came again to offer him their daughters, sisters, and nieces. You knew he would take a wife at some point—some point very soon. And because he was a northman through and through, he would marry a northern woman. One from a great house with a long history and ample influence.
For some reason, all your preparation for this moment had done nothing to aid you when it actually came.
The wind swirled around you like a restless spirit, forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself to stave off the chill. You could just go back inside, but all the warmth in the world could not tempt you. Witnessing all the eligible ladies of the north look upon Cregan with hungry and hopeful eyes was an unnecessary cruelty you didn’t wish on yourself. It wasn’t as though you could fault them for it. He was Lord of Winterfell, and as such, he was obligated to take a wife. What woman wouldn’t want that to be them?
You yourself had yearned for it for as long as you could recall. Practically growing up alongside him, youthful companionship had reformed as enrapturing affection. There was not a day where you did not cross paths with him, often purposely carving out time to spend together. You were always available to each other; living within the same keep had made it quite impossible to be apart.
Your father was Master of Arms; being a second son from house Cerwyn, he was granted knighthood in his youth. The late Lord Rickon Stark had appointed him as Master of Arms a handful of years before you were born.
Your father had trained Cregan as a boy. The memory of first meeting him was still clear as glass even after all these years.
The snow was still cool against your cheeks as you sat atop a railing, observing your father working with the boys during one particular day. You had snuck away from your Septa some time ago, preferring the chilled air outside to the stuffy heat indoors. That, and your hands ached from all the needlework you’d been made to practice.
Cregan had caught sight of you almost immediately. Smirking at your attempt to conceal yourself from searching eyes. You smiled back at him, pressing a small finger to your lips silently, asking him to keep your secret.
And he did. He said nothing to your father during the training session. Pretending you weren’t there at all. It wasn’t until your father caught you himself that you were sent back inside with clear instructions to apologize to your Septa for running off.
It was an act of fate that later that day you and Cregan crossed paths in one of the winding halls of Winterfell. In a second long bout of courage, you stopped him to say a proper thank you for not ratting you out.
The rest was simply history.
“I was wondering where you’d run off to.” The low rumble of a voice invaded your troubled thoughts.
The sound of footsteps thudded against the old wood. You turned to see Cregan rounding the corner, his slate eyes resting on you. The flickering torchlight caught the contours of his face, and for a moment, the weight of his presence made your heart race.
“Why are you all the way out here?” He asked, his deep candace rolling over you like thunder.
“I just needed some air.” You answered, hoping he’d deem it a suitable reply. “The festivities got a bit overwhelming.”
He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a thrill of familiar fondness down your spine. “Overwhelming is one way to put it. I can hardly hear myself think in there.” He stepped closer, the warmth of his body casting like a shield against the cold. “But I am glad I’ve found you.”
You nodded, not catching the implicating tone in his voice. You dropped your gaze to the frost-kissed ground. “I suppose everyone is eager to make an impression tonight. Especially the ladies.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, laced with a bitterness that you were not used to hearing from your own voice.
He noted the sour tone in your words. He himself admitted to being caught offhand at the unexpected abundance of marriage proposals. When he had alluded to wanting to look for a wife, he hadn’t anticipated this. Truthfully, the only woman he would want to wed was standing beside him. In the years of closeness with you, you had unknowingly taken his heart right from him. He recognized the fact that he hadn’t owned his heart for some time now. He had given it to you long before he even realized it.
If he was certain you would accept, he’d have asked your hand in marriage instead of entertaining half the northern population.
“Eager indeed.” He replied, his tone shifting to something more serious. “It is all rather…overwhelming.” He sighed, echoing your words from before.
You disliked seeing him so burdened. In the months since he took the role of Warden, though, that oppressed look marred his handsome features far too frequently for your liking.
“You need not rush into anything.” You consoled, wanting to take his strains and carry them yourself.
He grunted, resting his hands over the pommel of Ice. The great longsword hanging at his side. “Would you have me keep my people in suspense?”
“I would rather you keep them waiting than to risk your own happiness.” You said, your voice softer now, carrying the weight of your concern. Sometimes it felt foolish to worry over him so much, but you supposed that was a condition of loving someone.
“What do you think would make me happy?” The question wasn’t unexpected; he oftentimes sought out your advice just as you would with him. But to speak with him of his potential nuptials felt like a shard of ice was lodged in your chest.
You met his eyes; gone from the silver shine was the frustration replaced with a sort of keenness to know your thoughts. Most would say his eyes were two wild winter storms, and they could be if he was so inclined. But you had always seen them as bright stars hanging high in the sky. Shining down with their silver light that pulled you in and stole your breath.
“I would say marriage to someone who could honor and carry on the traditions of your family.” You replied, a peak of the true depths of your devotion seeping into your words. “A lady that would care for you, and not simply the title that came with you.”
“Someone like you, perhaps?” Cregan suggested a teasing lilt in his voice, but there was no mistaking the tinge of sincerity. He stepped closer then, forcing you to twist your position to where your back was against the railing. His warmth clouded your senses for a moment, causing you to lose track of your thoughts.
“You jest.” You retort, a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips. “This is serious, Cregan.”
His expression shifted, a spark of intensity igniting in his eyes. “I am being serious.” He countered, an unusual tension crackling in the cold air. There was something new swimming in his eyes, firm but soft the longer he looked at you. “You’ve always been more to me than just a companion or a friend. You must know that.”
A scoff sounded from you. “Must I?” You echoed incredulously, your heart pounding in your chest. The chilly air felt electric, humming with unspoken words and emotions that had been buried for too long.
He pressed closer, his presence mudding your resolve. “Yes,” he insisted. “Every time I look at you, all I can think about is how much I crave you by my side above all else.” His voice was low and earnest, not a hint of deception to be found.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, your lips parting to take in a shaky breath. “I am not a woman that could ever be considered as your wife.” The words stung as they left your lips, trembling on their descent. He was alluding to everything you had secretly hoped for, yet the reality of it felt like a dream you weren’t sure you could grasp. “I am the daughter of a second son. I hold no titles, no grand connections. And certainly-”
Cregan silenced you with a searing kiss. One that was all flames and fervor, but slow enough to feel every movement of his mouth molding over yours. A soft gasp slipped past you, and he drank it in, claiming it for himself.
Your hands hung by your sides for a moment before your body caught up with your mind. But once his solid arms coiled themselves around your hips, something in you snapped in place finally. Hands went to his shoulders, gripping onto the thick fur of his cloak. He pulled you in, your back coming off the railing, pressing you to him so no space was between you.
Your lips struggled to match his pace, but it was not for lack of trying. All these years of tampered emotions and repressed desires made everything blur together. The only tangible thing to be felt was Cregan. He held you with the utmost gentleness, his hands falling along your curves but never drifting too far or squeezing too tightly.
The yearning threatened to spill over. Bubbling within the both of you and being tended higher and higher with every slide of your lips against each other. You knew better than anyone that he had a roughness about him. And you wanted to coax it out; you wanted him.
His teeth nipped your bottom lip as he walked you backwards. Pressing you into a wooden pillar, he brought you flush against him. Though, through all the furs and layers of clothing, there was nothing to be felt. You could sense his hunger in the subtle low noises in the back of his throat and the way his touch grew feverish.
When he left your mouth to trail his lips along your jaw and down your neck, you took the opportunity to reign in your self-control. When he hitched one of your legs around his hips, though, you could feel your composure slipping away. The line of propriety daring you to cross it as his fingers kneaded into the pliant flesh of your thigh.
“Cregan.” You sighed as he kissed a line across your jaw. There were things you wanted to say. Things you needed to speak about. But your desire-addled mind couldn’t bring forth a single syllable.
A loud roar of laughter sounded from the great hall, pulling you both back to the present. Cregan huffs into the crook of your neck, the hot puff of his breath sending goosebumps along your spine.
He dropped your leg but kept his hold on your waist. “I will not take you for the first time in my halls where anyone could see.” Everything inside him screamed at him to continue, to hike up your skirts and make you his once and for all. But he would not have the first time muddied with the risk of prying eyes. He would have you, but only somewhere safe, warm, and private.
“If this is what you want,” Cregan murmured. “I would have you in my chambers, though; if you wish to not continue, I will leave at once.”
A huff of laughter escaped you, eyes meeting his as your hands slid from his shoulders to his chest. “I have never wanted anything more than you for as long as I can recall.”
With your words solidifying what you both wanted, he pressed another quick kiss to your lips. Taking your hand in his, you made the all too familiar walk to his chambers.
You had some time to think while trending through the halls. Your mind was made up, resolved, and set in stone, but nerves prickled at your skin. Not for the act itself really, but the knowledge it would be with Cregan. After all this time and all the wondering, it was finally happening. You hadn’t quite wrapped your head around it yet.
This part of the keep was dead silent, far away enough from the great hall that the raucous of the gathering was a distant memory. The doors to his chambers were tall, heavy oak, crafted from large stocks of trees from the Wolfswood. As Cregan pushed them open, the warmth from inside his rooms wafted out to greet you.
Passing through the threshold, you felt the shift of everything. Nothing would be the same after tonight. “What happens afterwards?” You question, words leaving your lips in a whisper as his makes an expedition across your jaw. You didn’t want to doubt him, but all of this felt like a dream moving so quickly you couldn’t discern if anything was real.
“I will make you mine tonight.” He murmured, one arm going around your waist. “And you make me yours. Then we will be wed before the Weirwood tree.”
“You would make me your wife?” You asked softly, watching as his face became puzzled.
“Were my words not convincing enough?” A smile pulled on his lips, though he did not let it overtake his expression. He hummed a deep sound, lips falling here and there on your neck.
His sugary tone thrilled you to your core. His hinting words and the press of his mouth made a surge of arousal swirl within you. “Perhaps you should just show me,” you urged.
Not wasting another second, his arm around your waist hauled you to him. Your fingers gripping the fur of his cloak, pulling yourself as close as possible to him. Cregan’s mouth met yours frantically. His kiss was hungry, filled with a deep-seated yearning for you that he had tried to ignore.
The heat of the room multiplied. Gone were the frozen winds from outside, a blazing inferno taking its place. That fire churned between you as he kissed you with the roughness you knew lay within him. Once again, you failed to keep up, but you were more than content to let him kiss you into a stupor. His teeth scraping the skin of your bottom lip as he worked on the clasp of your cloak.
Letting the heavy garment fall to the floor at your feet, you shivered at the loss of its warmth. Wanting to level things out, your hands undid the fastening of his, a thrill shooting to you, noticing the eagerness in which he tossed it to the ground.
“Cregan.” You whispered, trembling at the feeling of his hands at your back untying the laces of your dress. The material sagging around your shoulders. Grey stars met your eyes, asking you if he could continue. Nodding your consent, he slid the dress down, never letting his eyes wander as the garment pooled at your feet.
Your shift was the only thing separating your nakedness from his eyes. But you couldn’t help but feel the severe imbalance between you. As he made home in your neck again, your hands went to work on the restraints of his tunic. One by one, the clasps opened for you until you pushed the clothing from his shoulders.
He huffed out a laugh into the skin of your neck that turned into a shudder when your fingers slid under his shirt. You let your hands feel along the corded muscle of his abdomen. Years of hard training formed his body into the mountain of a man that he was now.
You moaned outright when he bit the skin below your ear. His hands mapping out the dips of your curves. Gripping here and there with his digits, unable to help himself when feeling the heat of your skin from beneath the thin shift.
Growing desperate, you started raising his shirt up to say you wanted it off. He untangled himself from you just enough to aid you in lifting it over his head. It joined the rest of your clothing on the floor.
Seeing what was always hidden underneath those layers of thick garments had your head spinning. He was all solid muscle and pure strength. Powerful yes, but knowing that he would never use that power against you in a way to cause harm was exhilarating.
Not being able to help yourself, you let your fingers lightly glide over the impressive map of his stomach. He indulges you for a few moments before your nails scrape along his skin, causing a growl to rumble through his chest. Snatching up your hands, he pulled you flush against him again. He devours your mouth with uncontrolled need. Lust was all but dripping from him, but the underlying affection would not be drowned out. Cregan was a man of few words more often than not, so he preferred to show you all that you meant to him.
Hands taking hold of your hips, he maneuvered you to his bed. His eyes shining with tenderness as you let him lay you down on the mattress. The furs covering the sheets were soft beneath you, surrounding you in a comforting embrace. Cregan stood over you for a moment before going to his knees. Spreading your legs apart, he made home between them, his shoulders coming up under your knees.
He wanted to taste every inch of you, trail his lips and tongue along every curve and sensitive patch of skin he could find. Hands coming up to the straps of your shift, he paused to see you already shaking your head. He grinned to himself as he removed the last bit of fabric hiding you from him. Off your shoulders to reveal your breasts, down your sides to uncover your stomach, and finally letting it fall away to bare your center to him.
“Let me taste you.” He rumbled, his voice dropping deeper than you’d ever heard it. It’s timbre shooting a buzz of delight through you. The heat in your belly grows hotter, filling you with yearning that threatens to break you.
You nodded, feeling the warmth trickle down to your core. “Yes, please.” Those two words were all he needed—your breathy answer coaxing an unquenchable thirst within him. And he intends to drink his fill.
He kissed his way down your body. Guaranteeing you felt every kiss pressed to your skin and every scrap of his teeth. You were growing breathless already, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Anticipation makes your heart thud wildly inside your chest.
His lips gave attention to every plane of your body. Scorching his path from your neck to your breasts, and then to your stomach to make his way to your thighs.
A low grumble crawled up his throat when your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. The heavy pressure of his mouth slid closer up the inside of your thigh, nipping at the skin there before going over it with his tongue. He could all but smell your arousal now this close to your center. The hunger to dive right in was almost overwhelming. The broad expanse of his shoulders pushed your legs further apart. Settling them over his back, his hand gripped the flesh of your thighs.
As the breath caught in your throat, your stomach swirled with delicious nerves. The warm slick gathered between your thighs was a glittering treasure Cregan took for himself. A surge of self-satisfaction rippled through him.
He takes in the wiggling of your body on his bed and hears the shaky inhales of your breath. Your thighs were twitching in his hold as he sank his teeth into the soft skin once more. You were like silk, smooth under his touch. The difference of his calloused fingers against your velvet skin was pure excellence in his eyes.
The first kiss he gave your slit knocked the breath from your lungs. When he licked a burning stripe up your core, your hearing grew fuzzy. His movements were careful and calculated to push you to the edge of complete insanity.
His arms around your hips went to bring you closer, a groan clawing up his throat as he pursued the pleasure of your cunt. He opened you to him with his tongue, desperate for whatever you granted him. A whine parted your lips as your hands gripped at his hair, your hips chasing the feel of his mouth without you even realizing it.
He was nothing if not formidable, even while he lapped at your wetness like a man starved. Resting between your legs, shoulders tensed with the vigor of his movements. He was solely focused on you, moaning into your center absently like he had never tasted something so sweet. He would spend the rest of his days with his face buried in your cunt if he could.
The heated cord within your belly continuously wound tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue. His mouth was ravenous, kissing and sucking with urgency, like if he didn’t make you come on his mouth, he would die.
“Cregan.” You sighed, writhing within his hold, causing his arms to grow tighter around you, locking you in place. The feeling was complete euphoria but also the sweetest torture at the same time. You yanked on the dark stands of his hair, urging him closer as if he wasn’t already practically inside you. “Please, don’t stop.” You begged, glancing down to see his starry eyes stuck on you.
He wasn’t about to let such a saccharine request go unanswered. But he also wasn’t going to let you squirm and wiggle about as you pleased. His belly was raging with hot fire, waiting for the chance to be released. His cock strained against his trousers, aching with the need to be inside of you. But he wanted to taste you spilling on his tongue first. He kept up with his heavy strokes against your center, drawing you closer and closer to your peak.
You were like honey on his tongue, surgery and sweet, all for him to devour. Listening to the melody of your whines and moans quickly became his favorite music. It brought him pleasure almost as much as it did you to know the ruinous state he’s gotten you in.
Your legs began to shake around his head, small tremors of ecstasy swimming through you. Cregan raked the path from your entrance to your clit with his tongue, circling the bundle of nerves a few times before taking it in his mouth. The soft gasps of his name that came from your lips as he sucked on your pearl were maddening. It had his fingers digging harder into the pliant flesh of your thighs, surely leaving bruises he would have to kiss once this was all over.
He was known to all as a stoic and serious man, but when he flicked his silver-hued eyes at you, they were nothing if not a flurry of affection. The sight of you on his bed breathless and lost to the pleasure he was giving you was heart-stopping. He had always thought you to be the prettiest girl he’d ever known, but now he likened you to a goddess. You had bewitched him body and soul.
His mouth still worked over your core. Switching between dipping his tongue into your entrance and wrapping his lips around your clit. Whenever he sucked the nerves in his mouth, he was rewarded with the prettiest sound to ever grace his ears. A high-pitched whine that slowly faded to a deep sigh.
You wanted to close your legs around his head, lock him there for the foreseeable future. But every time you moved your legs, he pried them apart, keeping you open to him so he could lavish his affection upon your cunt. His nose nudged your pearl whenever he dipped further down. You didn’t know how much more you could take. The peak was right there within your grasp; you just needed something to push you the rest of the way.
He was unrelenting, seemingly just as obsessed with bringing you apart with his mouth. A scream ripped past your lips as Cregan took your clit back in his mouth once more. His teeth bit down on the sensitive bundle of nerves, not hard enough to break skin but just enough to shoot a spike of pleasure pain down your spine. He drew his teeth away and soothed your pearl with his tongue.
“Cregan!” You sputtered, hips lurching forward to chase his mouth. You felt as though your whole body was on fire, that any moment now you would burst into flames. Your eyes screwed shut as stars exploded behind your eyelids. He dragged his teeth over your clit again, making your grip on his hair tighten even more. If you weren’t so out of it, you would have worried about pulling his hair out completely. “Do that again.” You pleaded with a trembling breath.
A huff of mild amusement escaped him before he was wrapping his mouth around your pearl and biting. He pulled at it with his teeth only to release it and sooth it over with his tongue. He drew whimper after whimper, moan after moan out of you. All the while, your legs shook around him with the weight of your impending release.
“Gods, I’m close!” A pleading moan tore past your lips, brain going hazy with the mounting pleasure. Your nails dug into his scalp as the cord grew taunt. The roughness didn’t discourage him, though. It merely made him all the more determined to push you over into oblivion.
“Please.” You spoke out into the air. A few more moments of his ministrations: bite, pull, sooth, suck. The cord snapped. A sharp gasp sounded from you as you shook like you were back in the cold winds outside. Everything spilled over; goosebumps erupted over your flesh. The heated tidal wave of your release rushing along your body. The sheer power of it having your back arching from the bed.
It felt as if your body was humming as your peak subsided slowly. Sinking back upon the furs, you untangled your fingers from Cregan’s hair. He was still gently lapping at your wetness as you reluctantly pushed him away. He lifted his head, eyes looking upon you with such reverence.
He kissed his way up your thighs, making sure to pay extra attention to the bruises he’d left. His lips were soft and caring on your sensitive skin. As he made his way further upwards, he pressed his face into your stomach. “I love you.” He whispered so faintly into your skin you weren’t sure if he even realized he said it.
“What?” You gasped, going up on your elbows to look at him. Face still buried in your middle, he murmured it again. This time raising his eyes to gauge your reaction. “You do?” You mumbled, becoming flustered all over again.
He crawled over you, covering your body beneath his burly physique as he claimed your lips. Your hand went to his cheek, tasting yourself on his tongue. “I do,” he husked. You took a moment to look at him, his eyes shining with adoration. “You still doubt my affections?”
You’re shaking your head instantly. “No,” you protest. “I simply didn’t expect you to say that.” You were grinning like a fool, mouth curved upwards in a beaming smile. He returned it, with one albeit smaller than yours, but it was still all him. You laughed into the kiss he gave you as he situated himself back between your legs.
“Allow me to show you then.” He spoke in a hushed voice. All you had to do was nod, and he was shucking off his breeches, kicking them from the bed.
You couldn’t see him, but you felt him big and hard against your thigh. Nerves swirled within you—not that he would ever hurt you intentionally, but that there would be no way around it hurting. You knew he would put your well-being above all else, though.
The barely-there smile still rested upon his face. “You’re still smiling.” You point out completely besotted with this mountain of a man.
“Hush woman.” He let out a humming noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. It was difficult to keep up his stone-like appearance in your presence. It always had been, but with your wide eyes looking up at him still hazy with pleasure, it was increasingly harder.
Bodies aligned and chests pressed against each other, you leaned up your lips searching for him, wanting another kiss. The kiss was as sweet as honey, soft as silk, much like you. From deep within his throat, a low rumble of approval echoed, and his eyebrows furrowed together as he returned the kiss with fervor.
You went to wrap your arms around his shoulders and found you could barely touch your hands together at the nape of his neck. Still though, it didn’t stop you from racking your nails across his skin. Hoping it would spurn him on. His cock rocked against your thigh, tip hitting your core for a split second.
“Patience, my girl.” He warned, rough palm soothing back your hair. “Slowly, I don’t want to hurt you.” He kissed a line across your collarbone, nose skimming along your skin. You felt him slide up along your thigh, the tip nudging at your entrance again. Just that little friction had shivers racing up and down your spine.
He canted his hips forward, pushing just slightly into your cunt. He was as big as he seemed evidently; the sting spread further as he slid in slowly. Inch by inch, with every ridge and vein feeling like it was being imprinted inside you. Once he was half way seated, you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. A faint grunt of discomfort slipped past you. Your hand gripping the nape of his neck tightly.
He paused, looking down at you. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Keep going. I’m alright.” You promised, loosening your hold on him. He pressed a soothing kiss to your hairline before he pressed forward again.
Having him inside you even halfway was something you would have to get used to. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant; the stretch and sting were fading already. Once he was fully inside, the feeling of him filling you was almost overwhelming in the best ways. Cregan gave you ample time to adjust, holding himself back from rutting into you. He never wished to harm you, even if your warm tightness was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt.
You tested your limits by rolling your hips to meet his. A hiss left the both of you as his cock slid even deeper, hitting some part of you that had you seeing stars. “Move.” You urged, back arching to press against him.
He drew out only to snap his hips forward, driving himself back in. Taking care to be as gentle as he could, he began a harsh but deep hitting pace. He was ardent in his lovemaking, cock thrusting into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. He was keeping good on his promise to show you just how much he loved you.
You wrapped a leg around his hips, his hand instantly going to hold it in place. Fingers lightly running across your skin. Your other leg spread wider for him, giving him as much room as you could to accommodate his size. A melody of whines and gasps flew from you with every thrust. Your nails running down the rippling strength of his back.
His face was hidden in your neck, lips assaulting your skin. Bruising kisses were placed wherever he could reach. Teeth joining to nip here and there, leaving marks that you would deal with later. He pounded into you with equal fervor and tenderness. Cregan was nothing if not devoted in all things, so each thrust was measured to ensure he seated himself fully inside you every time.
With the whole of Winterfell in the great hall or asleep, you worried not about concealing the volume of your moans. Needy whines and whimpers left you, one after the other. A particularly harsh snap of his hips had you stuttering out his name. You felt like you were being split in two, but it was the most pleasurable thing you’d ever experienced.
The friction of your bodies sliding together was addicting. Each glide of his cock along your innerwalls drove you closer and closer to another peak. Walls tightening around him, drawing a muffled curse, he spoke into your neck. Your hands went to his hair once again, bringing his mouth to yours. You kissed him as his cock kissed your womb. Your lips molded together as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your thigh.
You nipped at his bottom lips as he had done to you, causing a growl to rumble up his throat. There was urgency about him now, with his release building and building buzzing at the base of his spine.
He dropped the hold on your thigh, planting his weight on his forearms by your head. Using the leverage to rut inside you at a faster and deeper pace. Intensity danced between you as his cock drove into you, seated fully inside you, then pulling out only to plunge back in.
There was an almost divine feeling to being inside of you. As if Cregan was made for you and you were made for him. He had to wed you, had to say the vows beneath the Weirwood tree, and make you his wife. His Lady of Winterfell.
He groaned at the thought, snatching your lips between his own for another blazing kiss. Teeth knocking together and tongues sliding over each other—this was not a romantic kiss. It was full of base needs and wants. The drive to claim you as his and never give another man the chance to see you like this. You were his.
“Cregan please.” You pleaded into his mouth, your breath mingling together. He didn’t relent; your whispered appeal only spurred him on. He was aching and pulsing inside you. Cock thrusting so deeply, he vaguely pictured you struggling to walk in the morning. The thought sent a smug ripple down his spine. Your thighs were trembling, and with this being your first time taking him, you very likely will be sore.
“Do you have another in you?” He huffed out the question. His release was just within his reach, but he wanted to feel you gush around him first. Have the tightness of your walls gripping him like steel as he pushes into you for the last time before spilling his seed.
“Mhm.” You hummed around your harmony of whimpers and gasps. You rolled your hips to meet his as if to further prove what you wanted. The friction doing delicious things to the both of you.
You’d lost count of how many times he’d sunk into you. It was too many to keep up with. But the look that glimmered in his eyes told you it wouldn’t be much longer until another rush of euphoria greeted you.
His cock battered into you, his pace becoming faster than before. His hands moved from beside your head to grip your hips. Fingers sliding under to hold the small of your back, he lifted you slightly off the bed. The new angle had him hitting that spot within you that had you writhing up to meet him. Your senses became cloudy with nothing but the feeling of him inside breaking through.
“That’s it, my girl.” He husked out, feeling you shudder beneath him as your cunt clamped down on his length. He kept up his pace, racing after his own peak. Lowering you back down to rest on the furs again, he groaned heavy and hot into your neck as he spilled inside of you. The warmth exploded at the base of his spine and spread. Keeping his hips moving to help you both ride out your pleasure, he thrusted into you a few more times.
You whimpered as he withdrew from you, but he was quick to soothe you with a slow kiss to your lips. You fingers threaded through his brown tresses holding him to you. The display was all care and affection, a stark contrast to the intense moment between you just seconds ago.
When he rolled off you, he didn’t go far, his large form laying out beside you and drawing you to his side. His strong arm slung around you, locking you to his side.
An easy silence fell over you as you both regained your senses. The aftermath of your coupling filled to tender caresses of hands over heated skin. Soft presses of his lips upon your jaw, making your head relax into the pillow.
You weren’t aware of how much time passed before a halting thought crossed your mind. “Should I not leave?” You asked. Cregan furrowed his brows at you as if you were speaking in riddles. “There will surely be whispers if I am seen in your chambers in the morning,” you clarified.
“Nonsense,” he dismissed. His hold on you becomes tighter and a touch more protective. “You will be my wife soon enough. Whatever any of my people have to say about it, they will do well to make sure I do not hear of it.”
Completely smitten with him as well as his response, you choose not to argue. Much preferring to settle back into his warmth and spend the night caged within his arms.
I think this is the longest fic I have ever wrote, but I'm in love with it.
﹙taglist﹚@madame-fear
#house of the dragon#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x y/n#hotd fanfic#hotd fic#hotd fanfiction#hotd#cregan x reader#cregan x you#cregan x y/n#cregan stark fanfic
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Can you do Rafe’s reaction to reader being criticized by her parents in the forced marriage au?
At your defence || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
A/n: Ty for the request anon!! Sorry this took awhile 😭
Warnings: body shaming, baby pressure, ed is not implied whatsoever in this
Word count: 1,474
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
divider by @h-aewo
"Ah, there they are," your mother beams, rising from her chair with a delighted smile. She moves swiftly toward Rafe, who holds your 7-month-old son, Leo, in his arms. You remain still, not even turning your head to greet them, a small defiance that doesn’t go unnoticed by your father as he sets his glass of scotch down with a faint clink.
You hear your mother’s cooing voice as she reaches Leo, her fussing over him overly enthusiastic. "Oh, hasn’t he just grown since the last time!" she gushes, taking Leo from Rafe’s arms and settling him onto her lap, her affection almost too much for you to bear in the moment. Your father offers nothing but a curt nod, maintaining his usual distant reserve.
Rafe’s presence draws closer. His hand, firm yet not unkind, comes to rest on your shoulder. The sensation causes you to look up, meeting his eyes just as he leans down to press a brief, familiar kiss on your cheek. It's a gesture you’ve grown used to—affectionate, yet tinged with a sense of routine rather than passion. His gentle smile is meant for show, a mask for the public image you both maintain especially in front of your parents.
As he sits down beside you, the warmth of his thigh presses against yours, his hand resting on your knee. You focus on Leo, who babbles away in your mother’s lap, a sweet, innocent sound that eases some of the weight on your chest. "Do you know what you're going to order?" Rafe’s voice is casual as he flicks through the menu, his tone suggesting the same routine formality that colours most of your conversations these days.
You glance at the menu half-heartedly, appetite distant. "Probably just a salad," you mutter, though the words feel hollow, like so many of your thoughts these days. Before you can dwell on it, your mother’s voice cuts through the room, bright and commanding as always. "Darlings, I'm hosting a gala next week. You must attend," she declares, not so much an invitation as an expectation.
You don’t bother to respond right away, but Rafe doesn’t miss a beat. "Of course we’ll be there," he answers smoothly, already accustomed to fulfilling the social obligations expected of you both. His answer is automatic, effortless, as if this was just another item on the long list of duties you both perform for the sake of appearances.
Great. Another event. You force a smile, knowing full well what it would entail—another night of pretending. Pretending to be the perfect wife, locked in a marriage that felt more like a performance than a partnership. Another evening of tight smiles, polite laughter, and meaningless conversations with socialites you’ve long grown bored of.
Rafe’s hand remains on your knee under the table, a subtle gesture of unity that contrasts the emotional distance. You glance sideways at him, wondering if he feels the same weariness, but his expression is unreadable, composed in the way he’s perfected over time. You’d both become skilled at it—this charade of happiness.
Your mother gently hands Leo over to you, his little arms immediately wrapping around your neck as if he’s missed your warmth. The sweet gesture brings a chuckle from your lips, a sound you rarely hear from yourself these days. Rafe notices, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watches the two of you, the rare moment of peace settling briefly between the tension.
"Did you miss me?" you whisper to Leo, your hand softly patting his back as he squirms in your arms. His tiny fingers soon find your family crest necklace, grasping it with curiosity. It’s a simple, innocent action, yet it tugs at something deeper within you—a reminder of the weight that symbol carries, not just for you but for the life you're expected to live.
Your father calls for a waiter, the sound of his authoritative voice interrupting your thoughts. The orders are taken swiftly, and when it’s your turn, you manage to say, "I'll have the Nicoise salad, please—" before you're abruptly cut off by your mother’s sharp tone. "Oh, no," she interjects, her voice firm, slicing through the air.
You and Rafe exchange confused glances, both unsure of what she was going to say. Her stern eyes focus on you for a moment before she turns her attention back to the waiter, the smile on her lips tight and forced. "She will have the Club Sandwich, thank you," your mother says, closing her menu with a finality that leaves no room for argument. You stare at her, lips parted in disbelief, as the waiter politely retreats.
"That’s too much for me, I—" you begin, but she raises a hand, silencing you effortlessly, as if it were nothing. "You’ve gotten far too skinny, my dear," she remarks, her tone almost casual but laced with that familiar sting of judgement. "A body like that will surely not produce a healthy baby." The words fall from her mouth so easily, so thoughtlessly, that it takes a moment for them to truly sink in
Your chest tightens, the prickle of tears stinging your eyes, but you quickly look away, blinking them back before they can betray your emotions. "What is your chef feeding you? Perhaps I should overlook his menu," your mother continues, leaning forward slightly, her concern veiled by her need for control.
Instinctively, your eyes flicker toward Rafe, cursing yourself the moment you do. It’s a habit you’ve never quite broken—looking to him when your parents begin their critique, hoping for some sort of allyship. Your parents likely notices, and you hate that you’ve given them another tell. Rafe, to your surprise, responds with a tone of calm indifference.
"We both eat the same meals, all very nutritious, I can assure you. There’s no need for concern." His words are delivered with an air of boredom, as though he’s tired of the performance your family demands at every turn. "My wife is perfectly fine and healthy," he adds, his voice steady, almost detached. You lower your gaze, staring at the table in front of you, feeling an odd mixture of gratitude and discomfort at his defense.
Your mother’s hum lingers in the air, hovering between indifference and criticism, and that ambiguity leaves you restless. As the conversation continues around you, the voices blur into a distant hum. You stare blankly at the glass of water in front of you, losing yourself in thoughts that feel miles away from this table, from these expectations.
You don’t even notice Leo beginning to fuss in your lap until Rafe’s hand on your thigh gives a slight, firm squeeze, gently pulling you back to reality. You blink, looking up to find both of your parents' eyes trained on you, their disapproving expressions almost instinctual. Without a word, you begin to tend to Leo, but Rafe is quicker, reaching out with an effortless, "Here, let me take him."
Relieved, you let him lift Leo from your arms, watching as he settles the baby against his chest. Leo quiets almost immediately, and for a brief moment, the tension in the room seems to ease. Rafe's hand remains on your thigh, a subtle reassurance that grounds you amidst the weight of your family’s expectations.
When the meals arrive, you glance down at the sandwich before you—far too large for your diminished appetite. The sight of it makes your stomach turn, not out of hunger, but out of the pressure to conform. You can feel your mother’s watchful gaze, an invisible but palpable force, compelling you to start eating.
You take a bite, swallowing it down even though the taste barely registers. "Mind if I have some?" Rafe’s voice breaks through the silence, and you turn to him in surprise. He’s already reaching over, transferring some of your food onto his plate without hesitation, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
"Yeah, of course," you reply softly, watching as he begins eating from your plate. His casual gesture surprises you, but it also lightens the mood, if only slightly. A small smile tugs at your lips, grateful for his quiet way of easing the tension that lingers between you and your parents.
When it’s finally time to leave, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. Bidding your parents goodbye, you stare out at the perfectly manicured lawn, the scent of freshly cut grass filling the air. Leo is fast asleep in your arms, his little head resting peacefully against your chest.
"Thank you," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you glance over at Rafe. He turns his head toward you, his expression softening. Without a word, he nods, moving his arm behind your head. You lean back against it, letting yourself rest against his warmth for a moment.
#rafe cameron x fem!reader forced marriage au#drew starkey#rafe cameron#outer banks#fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron x you#drew starkey x y/n#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x smut#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#rafecore#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x reader#outer banks x you#outer banks x oc#obx x reader
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So, let me try and put everything together here, because I really do think it needs to be talked about.
Today, Unity announced that it intends to apply a fee to use its software. Then it got worse.
For those not in the know, Unity is the most popular free to use video game development tool, offering a basic version for individuals who want to learn how to create games or create independently alongside paid versions for corporations or people who want more features. It's decent enough at this job, has issues but for the price point I can't complain, and is the idea entry point into creating in this medium, it's a very important piece of software.
But speaking of tools, the CEO is a massive one. When he was the COO of EA, he advocated for using, what out and out sounds like emotional manipulation to coerce players into microtransactions.
"A consumer gets engaged in a property, they might spend 10, 20, 30, 50 hours on the game and then when they're deep into the game they're well invested in it. We're not gouging, but we're charging and at that point in time the commitment can be pretty high."
He also called game developers who don't discuss monetization early in the planning stages of development, quote, "fucking idiots".
So that sets the stage for what might be one of the most bald-faced greediest moves I've seen from a corporation in a minute. Most at least have the sense of self-preservation to hide it.
A few hours ago, Unity posted this announcement on the official blog.
Effective January 1, 2024, we will introduce a new Unity Runtime Fee that’s based on game installs. We will also add cloud-based asset storage, Unity DevOps tools, and AI at runtime at no extra cost to Unity subscription plans this November. We are introducing a Unity Runtime Fee that is based upon each time a qualifying game is downloaded by an end user. We chose this because each time a game is downloaded, the Unity Runtime is also installed. Also we believe that an initial install-based fee allows creators to keep the ongoing financial gains from player engagement, unlike a revenue share.
Now there are a few red flags to note in this pitch immediately.
Unity is planning on charging a fee on all games which use its engine.
This is a flat fee per number of installs.
They are using an always online runtime function to determine whether a game is downloaded.
There is just so many things wrong with this that it's hard to know where to start, not helped by this FAQ which doubled down on a lot of the major issues people had.
I guess let's start with what people noticed first. Because it's using a system baked into the software itself, Unity would not be differentiating between a "purchase" and a "download". If someone uninstalls and reinstalls a game, that's two downloads. If someone gets a new computer or a new console and downloads a game already purchased from their account, that's two download. If someone pirates the game, the studio will be asked to pay for that download.
Q: How are you going to collect installs? A: We leverage our own proprietary data model. We believe it gives an accurate determination of the number of times the runtime is distributed for a given project. Q: Is software made in unity going to be calling home to unity whenever it's ran, even for enterprice licenses? A: We use a composite model for counting runtime installs that collects data from numerous sources. The Unity Runtime Fee will use data in compliance with GDPR and CCPA. The data being requested is aggregated and is being used for billing purposes. Q: If a user reinstalls/redownloads a game / changes their hardware, will that count as multiple installs? A: Yes. The creator will need to pay for all future installs. The reason is that Unity doesn’t receive end-player information, just aggregate data. Q: What's going to stop us being charged for pirated copies of our games? A: We do already have fraud detection practices in our Ads technology which is solving a similar problem, so we will leverage that know-how as a starting point. We recognize that users will have concerns about this and we will make available a process for them to submit their concerns to our fraud compliance team.
This is potentially related to a new system that will require Unity Personal developers to go online at least once every three days.
Starting in November, Unity Personal users will get a new sign-in and online user experience. Users will need to be signed into the Hub with their Unity ID and connect to the internet to use Unity. If the internet connection is lost, users can continue using Unity for up to 3 days while offline. More details to come, when this change takes effect.
It's unclear whether this requirement will be attached to any and all Unity games, though it would explain how they're theoretically able to track "the number of installs", and why the methodology for tracking these installs is so shit, as we'll discuss later.
Unity claims that it will only leverage this fee to games which surpass a certain threshold of downloads and yearly revenue.
Only games that meet the following thresholds qualify for the Unity Runtime Fee: Unity Personal and Unity Plus: Those that have made $200,000 USD or more in the last 12 months AND have at least 200,000 lifetime game installs. Unity Pro and Unity Enterprise: Those that have made $1,000,000 USD or more in the last 12 months AND have at least 1,000,000 lifetime game installs.
They don't say how they're going to collect information on a game's revenue, likely this is just to say that they're only interested in squeezing larger products (games like Genshin Impact and Honkai: Star Rail, Fate Grand Order, Among Us, and Fall Guys) and not every 2 dollar puzzle platformer that drops on Steam. But also, these larger products have the easiest time porting off of Unity and the most incentives to, meaning realistically those heaviest impacted are going to be the ones who just barely meet this threshold, most of them indie developers.
Aggro Crab Games, one of the first to properly break this story, points out that systems like the Xbox Game Pass, which is already pretty predatory towards smaller developers, will quickly inflate their "lifetime game installs" meaning even skimming the threshold of that 200k revenue, will be asked to pay a fee per install, not a percentage on said revenue.
[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Hey Gamers!
Today, Unity (the engine we use to make our games) announced that they'll soon be taking a fee from developers for every copy of the game installed over a certain threshold - regardless of how that copy was obtained.
Guess who has a somewhat highly anticipated game coming to Xbox Game Pass in 2024? That's right, it's us and a lot of other developers.
That means Another Crab's Treasure will be free to install for the 25 million Game Pass subscribers. If a fraction of those users download our game, Unity could take a fee that puts an enormous dent in our income and threatens the sustainability of our business.
And that's before we even think about sales on other platforms, or pirated installs of our game, or even multiple installs by the same user!!!
This decision puts us and countless other studios in a position where we might not be able to justify using Unity for our future titles. If these changes aren't rolled back, we'll be heavily considering abandoning our wealth of Unity expertise we've accumulated over the years and starting from scratch in a new engine. Which is really something we'd rather not do.
On behalf of the dev community, we're calling on Unity to reverse the latest in a string of shortsighted decisions that seem to prioritize shareholders over their product's actual users.
I fucking hate it here.
-Aggro Crab - END DESCRIPTION]
That fee, by the way, is a flat fee. Not a percentage, not a royalty. This means that any games made in Unity expecting any kind of success are heavily incentivized to cost as much as possible.
[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A table listing the various fees by number of Installs over the Install Threshold vs. version of Unity used, ranging from $0.01 to $0.20 per install. END DESCRIPTION]
Basic elementary school math tells us that if a game comes out for $1.99, they will be paying, at maximum, 10% of their revenue to Unity, whereas jacking the price up to $59.99 lowers that percentage to something closer to 0.3%. Obviously any company, especially any company in financial desperation, which a sudden anchor on all your revenue is going to create, is going to choose the latter.
Furthermore, and following the trend of "fuck anyone who doesn't ask for money", Unity helpfully defines what an install is on their main site.
While I'm looking at this page as it exists now, it currently says
The installation and initialization of a game or app on an end user’s device as well as distribution via streaming is considered an “install.” Games or apps with substantially similar content may be counted as one project, with installs then aggregated to calculate the Unity Runtime Fee.
However, I saw a screenshot saying something different, and utilizing the Wayback Machine we can see that this phrasing was changed at some point in the few hours since this announcement went up. Instead, it reads:
The installation and initialization of a game or app on an end user’s device as well as distribution via streaming or web browser is considered an “install.” Games or apps with substantially similar content may be counted as one project, with installs then aggregated to calculate the Unity Runtime Fee.
Screenshot for posterity:
That would mean web browser games made in Unity would count towards this install threshold. You could legitimately drive the count up simply by continuously refreshing the page. The FAQ, again, doubles down.
Q: Does this affect WebGL and streamed games? A: Games on all platforms are eligible for the fee but will only incur costs if both the install and revenue thresholds are crossed. Installs - which involves initialization of the runtime on a client device - are counted on all platforms the same way (WebGL and streaming included).
And, what I personally consider to be the most suspect claim in this entire debacle, they claim that "lifetime installs" includes installs prior to this change going into effect.
Will this fee apply to games using Unity Runtime that are already on the market on January 1, 2024? Yes, the fee applies to eligible games currently in market that continue to distribute the runtime. We look at a game's lifetime installs to determine eligibility for the runtime fee. Then we bill the runtime fee based on all new installs that occur after January 1, 2024.
Again, again, doubled down in the FAQ.
Q: Are these fees going to apply to games which have been out for years already? If you met the threshold 2 years ago, you'll start owing for any installs monthly from January, no? (in theory). It says they'll use previous installs to determine threshold eligibility & then you'll start owing them for the new ones. A: Yes, assuming the game is eligible and distributing the Unity Runtime then runtime fees will apply. We look at a game's lifetime installs to determine eligibility for the runtime fee. Then we bill the runtime fee based on all new installs that occur after January 1, 2024.
That would involve billing companies for using their software before telling them of the existence of a bill. Holding their actions to a contract that they performed before the contract existed!
Okay. I think that's everything. So far.
There is one thing that I want to mention before ending this post, unfortunately it's a little conspiratorial, but it's so hard to believe that anyone genuinely thought this was a good idea that it's stuck in my brain as a significant possibility.
A few days ago it was reported that Unity's CEO sold 2,000 shares of his own company.
On September 6, 2023, John Riccitiello, President and CEO of Unity Software Inc (NYSE:U), sold 2,000 shares of the company. This move is part of a larger trend for the insider, who over the past year has sold a total of 50,610 shares and purchased none.
I would not be surprised if this decision gets reversed tomorrow, that it was literally only made for the CEO to short his own goddamn company, because I would sooner believe that this whole thing is some idiotic attempt at committing fraud than a real monetization strategy, even knowing how unfathomably greedy these people can be.
So, with all that said, what do we do now?
Well, in all likelihood you won't need to do anything. As I said, some of the biggest names in the industry would be directly affected by this change, and you can bet your bottom dollar that they're not just going to take it lying down. After all, the only way to stop a greedy CEO is with a greedier CEO, right?
(I fucking hate it here.)
And that's not mentioning the indie devs who are already talking about abandoning the engine.
[Links display tweets from the lead developer of Among Us saying it'd be less costly to hire people to move the game off of Unity and Cult of the Lamb's official twitter saying the game won't be available after January 1st in response to the news.]
That being said, I'm still shaken by all this. The fact that Unity is openly willing to go back and punish its developers for ever having used the engine in the past makes me question my relationship to it.
The news has given rise to the visibility of free, open source alternative Godot, which, if you're interested, is likely a better option than Unity at this point. Mostly, though, I just hope we can get out of this whole, fucking, environment where creatives are treated as an endless mill of free profits that's going to be continuously ratcheted up and up to drive unsustainable infinite corporate growth that our entire economy is based on for some fuckin reason.
Anyways, that's that, I find having these big posts that break everything down to be helpful.
#Unity#Unity3D#Video Games#Game Development#Game Developers#fuckshit#I don't know what to tag news like this
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PICK A CARD: What Will Your FS Admire Most About You?
⚤ “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” - Pablo Neruda
Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, disregard any pronouns that do not apply to you.
p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4
✠ Pile One ✠ (King of Cups,Page of Cups,The World,7)
✧ Cards went wiillldddd. You stir up so much emotion in this person, it’s crazy. Your heart chakra is front and center here. You are picture-perfect harmony and universal love to your spouse. Your love can’t be contained, you love them, your friends, your favorite mug, worms out in the rain, strangers, the moon, and all the stars in the sky.
✧ All I see is a wide-ass smile, the biggest, wateriest eyes, and full cheeks. Your spouse thinks you’re sunshine-incarnated.
✧ This will sound corny, but your heart and love for the world and all its diversity make you appear angelic; God’s gift to humanity. The emotional depth you have is nothing shy of divine. Your ability to understand and reconnect your person with their inner dreamer makes you irreplaceable in their eyes.
✧ I feel like your future spouse had to navigate around a lot of emotionally stunted people who left scars that prevented them from forming healthy relationships. Your empathy and desire to make space for peace and unity in this world give them hope that true love is alive and they are the lucky son of a bitch who gets to call an angel, theirs.
✧ I smell salt and hear waves. (I bet you’re tired of the cheesy poetry but HEY, me and your boo are OBSESSED with your energy) You truly are as beautiful and powerful as the seven seas.
✧ You know the Ouroboros, and how it's sometimes depicted as a snake wrapped around the oceans, holding onto its tail to keep the world together? Yea, that. To your future partner, you hold the key to their world. You add so much color and vibrancy. You turn over their inner ocean and awaken so much repressed child-like wonder within them.
✧ Wow. Your spouse loves the depths of you.
✧ Check for water placements, signs, and houses, in your natal chart. Some of you have insane intuition and have clairsenses. Clairaudience to be specific.
✧ Some of you are active in charities or aspire to make a difference in society. Maybe you’re into esoteric practices or anything else metaphysical.
✧ I even have a few philosophers here. Okay, KANT! (somebody please get this joke)
She Excites the Seven Seas
✠ Pile Two ✠ (Ace of Pentacles,8oW,The Emperor rev., “I Want”)
I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me
✧ Of course, you don’t have to be a woman but that TikTok sound SCREAMED at me. Your future spouse is lowkey intimidated by you and they love it.
✧ You have big dreams. Big plans. But most importantly, a million and one ways to get you where you need to be. Your ability to say “I want this,” and then actually go out and GET it?? Your spouse is like the meme that goes “I’m a little scared, but I’m turned on.”
✧ I also see that you’re unconventional. If people have been doing whatever you want to do a certain way for years, you'll find ways to do it differently, just cause. You’re a true trailblazer. Your self-conviction is so damn alluring. Even for the people who struggle with insecurity sometimes, once you get over that hump and decide that you desire something, you fucking get it. Your partner sees you like magic. They are impressed by just how quickly your desires are set in motion for you. They feel that you are powerful and bring a great deal of power to them from just being in your proximity.
✧ You are also the “I don’t take shit from nobody” type. Not from strangers, not from your friends, your family, not even from your partner. In their eyes, you know your worth and have a strong self-foundation that nobody can tear down. There is genuine admiration and respect here. I even get the “I want to be like you when I grow up” mentality.
✧ There is a speediness to you they find very attractive. Either the way you behave, speak, or just stress about time, your pacing holds a special place in their heart. (or maybe, despite all of your responsibilities, you manage to find stillness in the chaos and slow down when necessary)
✧ The way you speak drives this person wild. It's like your voice narrates their thoughts and is the source of all of their arousal. Do with that information what you will...(don't be cruel, you make this person so nervous).
✧ I shuffled through a playlist and E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE!! by Corpse came on and one of the lyrics goes,
She just look into my soul with them Shinigami eye Coke in my nose and a blade on her thigh. Man, I think this girl is really trying to plan my demise
✧ Yea, you put the fear of God into this person, but in a good way! Your presence can be chilling sometimes. Fire energy for sure. There are definitely people here from pile 2 of my first pac, “What are your most alluring qualities?”, check that out if you want to.
✧ Okay, this energy has me needing to take a LAP, bye.
"Man, I Think This Girl Tryna Plan My Demise"
✠ Pile Three ✠ (10oW, 9oW)(no other cards wanted to come out, real stubborn)
✧ Okay so, this feels specific?... and maybe even a lil off topic but I feel called to say this
✧ I sense that you and your person are psychically connected and share the mutual feeling that the two of you are meant to cross paths. The both of you have gotten your fair share of fuckery in this lifetime and this union feels like divine justice.
✧ This sounds a little fucked up, but you guys flourish amid trauma. Dark energy alchmaziers. You best wield your potential while you’re going THROUGH it.
✧ You had to “die” and bury yourself a dozen times to get where you are today.
✧ You are a very evolved individual. Throughout your life, traumatic events and relationships have forced you to bear a lot of weight on your back and it’s like the pressure has forged you into a diamond. With each curveball life threw at you, you stood tall and pushed to make something of yourself, proving your worth after a lifetime of strife and instability.
✧ Scorpio/Capricorn and 8th house/10th house placements. (check midpoints).
✧ A lot of you have tense shoulders, upper back, shoulder, and neck pain from the unease and anxiety your body carries. You have insomnia and may even struggle with nightmares.
✧ This person you’re coming into union with is so healing.
✧ This is something the both of you broke down and prayed for on your darkest days. This is a true partner, the soul that kept yours warm when the world was so cold. You had to put your dreamier side on the back burner to survive. This person will make you feel safe to dream again.
✧ I don’t have anything specific to say because you and your person feel so secretive You two recognize each other’s pain and are the only people you guys trust. Like not even lil ol’ me can really get through to y'all. Y’all ride AND die for each other, in this life and the next.
✧ If you’re into astrology and already have a feel for who this person is, check your guys’ composite chart. Strong Scorpio energy here.
✧ Coming into union with this person will feel like a wish fulfillment.
✧ (short pile, it felt like a quick message for those of you who feel this connection telepathically. This is probably a secondary choice.)
"I Want To Caress The Piece of Me Within You"
✠ Pile Four ✠ (Queen of Wands, 9oP rev., 7oP, 4oP rev., the high priestess, queen of cups, “I will”)
✧ You’re a bad bitch, truly. Your fs isn’t calling you a bitch, buuuttttt she a baddie, she know she a ten! She a baddie with her baddie…. wait a minute…
✧ You may not have a lot of friends? You keep your circle tight-knit because you have been deeply hurt in the past and you guard your peace fiercely. For some of you, your home life was quite tumultuous and you struggle with financial security and inner happiness. It seemed like the world did not want you to feel good about yourself or succeed.
✧ Do you know that viral display of a deer’s ribcage with a spear through it, and how even though an attempt was made on the deer’s life, he managed to survive and lived for years after that event; all while still growing bone marrow with a giant fucking spear through its ribcage?
✧ “A close encounter with a hunter left the deer with several broken ribs and part of an arrow embedded in its body. Remarkably, the animal survived, and bone grew around the shaft and arrowhead lodged in the creature's side."
✧ "The deer lived with the arrow inside its body until years later, when another hunter killed the animal, cut the deer open, and discovered its amazing secret…As the tough tissue formed over the arrow, it acted as a splint for the damaged rib cage, strengthening the deer's injured body.”
✧ I highlighted some words that needed emphasizing. That’s how your partner sees you. They are in complete awe of the resilience and sheer tenacity you hold. They look at you and can’t believe the person before their eyes. The troubling history you usually try to hide from your romantic partners is exactly what allures this person.
✧ You won’t ever lay on your belly and cry about life passing you by. You aren’t the type to victimize yourself and “woe is me” your way out of self-improvement.
✧ You are quite ambitious and aim to push forward, even if the odds are stacked against you.
✧ I get the message that some people in this pile have struggled with self-harm over the years. Your partner wants to kneel down and kiss your scars like a white knight, and vow to protect you emotionally and physically for as long as you’ll have them.
✧ The spear-deer imagery is so interesting. The deer represents virality. It is a symbol of piety, gentleness, devotion, and fertility. Especially with the queen of wands, the high priestess, AND the queen of cups, you provide profound love, passion, and insight to this person. However, even as a deer, you are quite badass???
✧ You are as gentle as a strand of hair but as strong as wool. Dainty but unbreakable.
✧ They have no desire to infantilize you because they know you are already your own greatest warrior. But they don’t want you to feel that you have to fight alone. Whatever burdens are on your plate, they take away as much as possible because they want to be a piece of the paradise you fight for.
✧ This is meant to be a short pac, a Tumblr post won’t do the unbelievable strength in your character much justice. Just know that your fs is so fucking in love with you and wants to spend their life by your side because of just how awe-struck they are by you.
✧ I mean c’mon… will YOU ever forget the story of the coolest fucking deer in existence??
"I Yearn To Be the Name You Call Out in Victory"
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Ebb & Flow ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌₊ ⊹
╰ rafayel⌇fem!reader
╰ 18+ sexual content. unprotected sex/he filling u up. p in the v. oral; ꒰f&m receiving꒱ fingering. spoilers to myths. fishie whimpers a lot. scale play. u both like to submit. he a good boi.
╰ 4,263
⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆
On the rare and mystical Ebb Day, when the tides unveil the secrets of the deep, creatures from the ocean’s depths are carried ashore. Once upon a time, a sailor embarked on this extraordinary day and came upon an injured mermaid amidst the waves. With a voice as enchanting as the sea itself, she pleaded for her freedom, promising her most cherished treasure in return. As their eyes met and their worlds intertwined, a bond formed, weaving a tale of love and unity. The sailor and mermaid, drawn together by fate and the oceans whisper—lived happily ever after.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝
Rafayel’s moods were something you’d grown used to—his artistry matched only by the drama he could conjure. Yet today, even that familiar spectacle felt off-kilter. You woke to the sound of his ringtone, his usually vibrant voice laced with a heaviness that set alarms off in your mind; a weight that prompted you to rush over the moment he suggested a walk.
In less than an hour, he was already whining about the air being inexplicably sticky— “how do you guys even breathe?” he grumbled, pivoting to head home, seemingly indifferent to whether you chose to follow him or not. Once home, he had the nerve to tell you to see yourself out, especially after you had dashed over just because he sounded upset.
You were near the door, tossing a cutting remark over your shoulder, when he collapsed. There was an audible thud as he hit the floor. Part of you wondered if this was just another act in his dramatic reserve—but the feverish heat radiating from his skin told a different story. Concern swallowed your annoyance, fueling a desire to stay and see him through the night. Despite his initial protests, he eventually surrendered with a grumble about how your lingering presence would be your own regret. With that settled, you fetched him a glass of water, returning to find him asleep, sitting upright on the couch.
As you were setting the water down on the coffee table, a glimmer caught your eye—something shimmering softly on his face. You leaned in to discover a scattering of delicate, iridescent flakes adorning his cheeks and neck, trailing beneath the open collar of his shirt. Unable to resist, you reached out to touch them, settling beside him on the couch. The texture beneath your fingertips was astonishingly silky—almost ethereal. Gently, you traced one, barely grazing his skin as a realization dawned. “Scales…” The word slipped from you in a breathless whisper as you prodded one delicately, prompting a sudden, soft murmur from Rafayel that nearly startled you off the couch. He shifted slightly, but remained fast asleep. You knew you should stop, but the bright scales seemed to draw your fingers back, their allure irresistible.
Growing bolder, you applied a touch more pressure to fully feel their texture. his response was immediate—a low, almost decadent groan that took your breath away. Maintaining the pressure, you swiped your thumb across, eliciting a soft whimper that sent a jolt of arousal through you. You couldn’t resist the urge to repeat the motion–craving that sound again. But his hand caught your wrist. “On any other day, you wouldn’t be able to get close enough to touch me like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. His gaze was icy, almost mistrustful—a look you had never seen before, and it cut deeper than you’d expected.
“Are they scales?” you asked softly. Rafayel couldn’t shake the irritation that welled up upon awakening to your touch.
From the moment he had encountered this version of you, the bond between you two ensnared him effortlessly. And it didn’t surprise him in the least how much he enjoyed your company, just as he had in every lifetime.
Yet, he remained guarded, unable to fully open his heart. The memory of your past betrayal still stung—a persistent thorn despite the passage of time. And having you close on this day, of all days, was a decision he was already regretting. Your fingers brushing against his sensitive scales brought an unsettling familiarity, too reminiscent of a memory he preferred to keep hidden. Although he knew you didn’t mean to exploit his vulnerability, the resemblance to those past wounds was much too striking.
He was painfully aware of his behavior—his irritation with you evident in his expression and the underlying anger coloring his voice, but he just couldn't help it. “Shocking, isn’t it? All those stories about the Lemurians? They aren’t just fairy tales,” he remarked.
To your surprise, his revelation didn’t shock you. Instead, it felt like a dormant truth that had been whispered to your soul all along. "I thought Lemuria disappeared thousands of years ago,” you said softly. Rafayel's voice was still cold, but the edge had softened a bit as he looked away. “Think of me as a lost pearl that washed up on the beach,” he murmured, each word carrying the weight of unhealed scars and unspoken secrets.
You nodded, accepting his words as a spark of curiosity ignited within you. “So… Do you have a tail, then?” you asked, intrigued. His mesmerizing eyes locked onto yours. “Yup. Whenever I cry, my tears transform into shimmering pearls. A single song from my lips can doom anyone who hears it. And those scales you touched? They’re the sharpest weapons in the world.”
You stared in disbelief as a note of mockery crept into his expression. With a derisive snort, he turned away. “Cool. So now you’re mocking me,” you said with a smirk, reaching out to poke one of his scales playfully, only to have your hand caught in a firm grip.
“Touching me wherever is rude, stop it,” he admonished. Undeterred, you tickled a scale on the hand holding yours, making him squirm. “I see, I see. So Lemurians truly are ticklish,” you teased. “And humans truly are greedy,” he shot back, disdain in his voice. “Always ready to exploit other species once you discover their vulnerabilities.”
You hummed softly, a playful challenge in your eyes. “You’re right—I could take advantage and kidnap you right now if I wanted to.” His gaze met yours. “But why me?” Your fingers trailed along his jawline, your voice low and heated. “You can cry pearls, wield the sharpest weapons, and create breathtaking art. How could I possibly let you escape?” Your touch wandered down his neck, tracing the shimmering path that led to his collar bone. “I’ll lock you in a cage, and whip you daily, forcing you to finish your paintings. And if you want to eat, you’ll have to call me “Master.’”
You were surprised by your own audacity. You had longed to touch Rafayel like this but never dared until now. “Is that really what you want?” His serious tone caught you off guard, as if there was more weight to his words than mere banter. “W-what…” you began, but his whisper resounded in your ears, as if echoing within your very being— “Master.”
For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw a faint glow above Rafayel’s heart, but it vanished before you could confirm it. His hands wrapped around your waist, lifting you onto his lap. He guided your hand to his face, pressing his feverish cheek into your palm as he murmured, “Help—I don’t feel so good.”
Despite the reluctance lingering in his heart—stirred by nervousness at exposing himself to you again—your teasing, possessive words had ignited something within Rafayel. He found himself instinctively pulling you closer.
Your other hand cupped his cheek, offering comfort as his arms encircled you. “How can I help?” you whispered. His grip tightened as he nuzzled into your neck. “Share your warmth with me.” Your breath hitched, your heartbeat pounding as you reached out to touch his scales again.
A gentle sigh escaped your lips as your fingertips met his heated skin. Your eyes locked with his, silently seeking permission as you lifted the hem of his shirt. Rafayel’s hesitation was palpable, a myriad of thoughts swirling in his mind. Finally, he reached a decision, raising his arms to let you slip off his shirt.
His heart soared at the look in your eyes—mesmerized, hungry, and entirely focused on him. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed that look until he felt a small piece of himself begin to heal simply by soaking it in again.
The need to keep touching him was overwhelming, but concern crept in as the heat radiating from his body intensified. Beads of sweat formed on his skin and his breath quickened. Reluctantly, you pushed away gently. “We should stop… your fever is really high. You need to rest; I’ll get you an ice pack.” Barely off his lap and only a few steps away, you were surprised to be pulled back into his embrace, enveloped once more in his arms.
The look of complete shock on your face was the most endearing thing Rafayel had witnessed in a long time, sparking a tender smile from him. His voice was so sensually charged that it sent a rush of heat through your core, your thighs pressing together instinctively. “What? Weren’t you planning to keep me as a Lemurian pet?” he teased, a suggestive glint in his eyes as they traced the curve of your lips. “I can’t even run away… Do whatever you want to me.”
Though his words were incredibly tempting, your concern lingered—he could be seriously ill, and perhaps you should be taking him to a hospital rather than indulging in this moment. “Can you at least tell me what’s going on? You’re acting really strange…” you pressed gently.
“Every year, there’s a day when the tide lowers, and reverses its flow,” he explained, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “That’s when Lemurians are at their weakest... Even the frailest human could end us if they knew.” His lips brushed your skin with a featherlight kiss. “If you want to push me away—or even kill me—I couldn’t stop you.”
Startled, you pulled back to meet his gaze. “Rafayel…” He interrupted, a warning undertone in his voice. “You have no idea how dangerous this is, do you? There’s still time to find someone else to care for.” Despite his words, he drew you closer. “Not every fairy tale ends happily ever after. Maybe the mermaid set the trap from the start—to claim the sailor’s life,” he added, referencing the love story you had discussed earlier.
Rafayel watched you with a calm intensity, his fingers lazily twirling your hair. He knew you too well and sensed the flicker of fear in your expression at his words. Yet, as always, you pushed past the fear, your eyes turning sultry as you leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. “So? I’m okay with that. But—” you grasped his chin, shaking his head playfully. “Did you ever consider that you might be the prey in my trap?”
He remained silent, his beautiful eyes calmly assessing, waiting to see your next move. “Rafayel… I’m not sure why you said those things, but…” You captured his lips in a tender kiss, whispering, “I will never hurt you.” He stiffened beneath you momentarily before his hands found your waist, pulling you tightly to him as he kissed you again. “Do you promise?” The raw pain in his voice and the desperation in his eyes made your heart ache. “I promise.” Your hands looped around his neck as you melted into him, capturing his mouth in a kiss far more passionate than the last. His lips were just as soft as you’d imagined, each touch of them like the most powerful aphrodisiac.
The tiny whimpers and groans he let out only fueled your growing boldness, as did the way his body reacted to even the lightest touch of your fingertips. You tangled your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck, holding him there. “I’ve decided on my first request for my new Lemurian pet—stay still,” you commanded in a low, firm voice.
The tone sparked something in him—a thrill he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. It was a dynamic he had happily embraced many times before, and he could hardly contain his excitement as your gaze roamed his body with a renewed heat. “Define sit still,” he teased, his voice laced with anticipation.
You hummed softly, leaning in to trace a path along his scales with your tongue. He cursed under his breath, hips instinctively grinding against you, hands settling on your lower back. You swatted them away with a teasing reprimand. “No touching.” He pouted and let out a genuine whine, drawing a giggle from you. “You can try to get off by grinding against me, but that’s the only movement I’ll allow.” Your lips returned to his neck, teeth grazing his increasingly sensitive scales.
You hovered just above him, making him work for every bit of friction he craved. You delighted in the sight of him beneath you, whimpering and struggling to find release. The power you felt was exhilarating, heightened by Rafayel's evident enjoyment. But each time his hips managed to connect with yours, grinding his erection against your clothed core, it tested your resolve—the urge to have him inside you was nearly overwhelming. But this newfound game was too rewarding to rush.
You slipped your shirt over your head, tossing it and your bra aside. Your palms glided over his chest, your breath quickening as you traced the defined ridges of his abs and followed the soft trail of hair leading beneath his pants. He trembled beneath your touch, desire pooling within him as he resisted the urge to reach out and cup your breast. Instead, he stayed still, a symphony of groans and whines escaping him with every sensation you elicited.
Once satisfied, you leaned back, teasing him further as you squeezed one breast, and let your other hand glide through your folds. He didn’t attempt to rise to find friction, he simply watched in enraptured awe, plush lips slightly parted, breath quick, his hips making small, involuntary thrusts in response to your display.
“You’re being such a good boy,” you praised, surprised by the words that slipped from your lips. You hesitated, wondering if you’d gone to far, but Rafayel’s immediate, whimpering plea reassured you. “Say it again,” he begged, his desperation palpable. A grin spread across your face. “You're such a good boy…my good boy,” you cooed in his ear before standing to add your pants and thong to the growing pile on the floor.
Sitting back on the couch and spreading your legs invitingly, you motioned for him to come closer. “Make me cum, Raf,” you commanded softly, feeling a thrill of anticipation as he eagerly settled between your legs. He could scarcely tear his eyes away from your glistening core, so wet you were dripping onto the couch beneath you. Silently, he vowed to never have this sofa cleaned again.
“Is there anything you won’t allow me to do?” he asked. “Mhmm—no touching yourself." A soft groan slipped from him as he nodded, bending to press gentle kisses along your inner thighs. Rafayel remembered every spot that made you sing, reacquainting himself with them until your pretty little noises filled the room.
He knew you liked it a bit rough, and was pleased to find that hadn’t changed. Your hands tangled in his hair, your head falling back with a cry of pleasure as he boldly bit your clit, leaving behind a sharp, exhilarating sting.
He sighed in relief as his tongue touched you, eagerly lapping up your arousal with a deep, satisfied hum that sent vibrations coursing through your entire body. You were so soft, so warm and inviting, your familiar essence wrapping Rafayel in a comforting embrace.
The moment he slipped a finger into your warmth, your walls clenched around him like a vise, nearly pushing him to his own edge without a single touch. He paused for a moment, awestruck, before setting a gentle rhythm with his fingers.
His lips soon found their way back to your sensitive bud, sucking and nibbling with just the right amount of pressure to make your body sing in that perfect blend of pleasure and pain. Rafayel seemed to know every one of your sweet spots with startling accuracy, attuned to the precise pressures and motions that drove you wild. Your hips bucked, grinding against his face, coating him in your arousal as he groaned in delight.
You stroked his hair affectionately, watching his mouth fervently work over you as his eyes took in every part of you as you moved against him. His gaze, hazy with desire, never left your from between your thighs. “So beautiful,” you murmured, and he made that cute little whimper again, spurred on by the tightening of your soft walls around his fingers.
His own hips began thrusting into the air again as you rode his face with abandon, your body pulsing around him as he guided you through each wave of pleasure. Spent, you collapsed back on the couch with a deep sigh of contentment, looking down at him with a blissful smile. “Wow,” you breathed softly. “Yeah… wow,” he echoed gently, a mixture of awe and satisfaction in his voice as he moved to sit beside you on the couch.
You stopped him before he could sit, reaching over to unbuckle his belt, looking up with a question in your eyes. Understanding, Rafayel shed the rest of his clothes, letting them drop to the floor before settling beside you. Biting your lip, your hands eagerly reached out to wrap around his length.
Just like the rest of Rafayel, his cock was delightfully perfect, a promise of immense pleasure in both its girth and length. A sinful groan escaped both of you as you licked up the precum trailing down his shaft, savoring the taste. Within moments, you had him stuffed in your throat, unfazed by the challenge, a dopey smile curling your lips as you choked slightly. You pulled back briefly to spit on the tip, spreading the slickness with your hand. “I’ll be still this time,” you assured him softly before taking him deeply once more.
His hand immediately threaded through your hair to hold you in place, his hips setting a steady rhythm as they thrust into your welcoming mouth. Rafayel knew the rewards of patience and compliance—if he was a good boy, and did what you asked, pleasure awaited him.
“You take me so well, cutie,” he praised, a possessive edge to his voice. “I almost forgot how fucking perfect you are,” slipped out before he could catch himself, but you seemed too lost in the moment—or too cock-drunk—to hear or care, your face an embodiment of ecstasy as you continued to devour him.
He could have easily prolonged this blissful moment, riding the edge of his orgasm just to enjoy the sensation of being in your mouth a little longer. But his desire to finish inside you was undeniable. Gently, he lifted you off him, guiding you to straddle his lap.
The way you blushed and grew shy as he rubbed his cock through your slick folds brought a soft, appreciative smile to his lips. You were even tighter than he remembered, which required him to take things slowly as he pushed into you. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, and he pressed gentle kisses to your cheek to ease the way. “Almost there, princess,” he murmured, his cock inching deeper.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered as he finally pressed flush against you, feeling your arousal seep where you were joined. Rafayel’s possessive praises sent a shiver through you, evoking emotions that mirrored his. Tears welled in your eyes at his words, the sense of being so perfectly filled by him heightening the intensity of the moment.
He gently took your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. “I want you to use me,” he pleaded, his voice raw with need, as he gripped your hips to encourage your movement. You searched his eyes, then nodded softly, leaning in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. It began gentle, as did your movements atop him. But as your lips and tongue paid homage to the scales adorning his skin, your hips began to rise and fall with fervor.
His hands supported your rhythm, gripping your ass as you rode him with increasing urgency. Watching you embrace your pleasure, tears of ecstasy streaking your face, urged him to test if you still enjoyed another particular sensation.
He slapped your ass, the sound resonating through the room. Your eyes shot wide in surprise and your movements faltered. “Riding me like such a good little slut,” he growled, delivering another, much harder, slap. He seized a breast, tugging roughly on a nipple, and your mouth fell open in a soft ‘O,’ a fierce blush spreading across your skin. “Didn’t I tell you to use me, cutie?” he teased. “I haven't felt that pretty cunt gush on me yet, so why’d you stop moving?” His words ignited something within you, compelling you to continue, your hips resuming their relentless motion in a quest for release. His voice was teasing, low and commanding, much like yours had been earlier in your game. You were surprised to find you enjoyed this dynamic just as much with the roles reversed. Your own voice came out in a small, slightly shaky whisper. “Sorry, Raf,” you murmured, earning a chuckle from him, your hips resuming their eager rhythm.
You were impossibly wet now, coating Rafayel's cock and abdomen in your shared arousal. He relished it, gathering the slickness and spreading it over your skin with a pleased hum. “Just like that, cutie,” he encouraged, punctuating his words with firm slaps to your ass and rough squeezes of your breasts. “You’re the only one who can make me feel like this,�� he whispered urgently, his fingers lightly tugging your clit, making you tremble and whine above him.
He pulled you closer, your head resting in the crook of his neck as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. He chuckled softly knowing from experience that you were too lost in pleasure to register much of anything else. He allowed himself to speak more openly, assured that his words would float through your haze without consequence.
“This is always my favorite part,” he murmured, taking over the rhythm as he gripped your hips, moving you against him as you cried quietly, sniffling against him. “You’ve always had a knack for teasing me,” he said with a playful edge, “and once you discovered how much I enjoyed it when you took control—you were relentless.” Rafayel smiled gently, a fondness in his tone as he recalled a memory from long ago.
His tone became softer, words drifting through your foggy mind, carried by the gentle love in his voice. “I’ve cherished every second of turning my body over to you. I crave it, actually… Maybe it’s because of the bond we share— I’m not sure… But as much as I enjoy it, I secretly look forward to this moment every time…” Tenderly, he lowered you until your bodies were flush, grinding you against him with each deep thrust. “That moment when you melt in my arms, surrendering to my care and affection,” he continued, tightening his embrace around you. “If I weren’t so desperate to finish, I’d stay buried inside you, holding you like this indefinitely,” he teased as he cherished the closeness. You whispered his name on a choked sob, your mouth instinctively finding the scales on his neck as your tongue traced firm, deliberate paths over each one you could reach.
With every stroke of your tongue, Rafayel's movements grew more frenzied, but when you latched onto what had always been your favorite scale, sucking it softly, he lost control, his thrusts becoming desperate and fervent.
The sensation of his scales beneath your tongue, combined with the mind blowing ecstasy of him stuffing you full, sent you spiraling into another intense orgasm. You cried out into his neck, pressing yourself as deeply onto him as possible, grinding against him to chase every ripple of pleasure. Your movements stilled as his cock throbbed within you, but you squeezed around him in waves, helping to coax out every last drop of his essence, unwilling to let any go to waste.
As the haze of pleasure began to lift, a sense of reality seeped back in. You leaned down, licking Rafayel clean with a satisfied hum. He raised an eyebrow, grinning at you. “So you still do that,” he remarked, his voice gentle and teasing. You tilted your head in mild confusion, a small frown forming on your lips. He simply pulled you back into his arms with a quiet chuckle. "Don’t worry about it, cutie,” he murmured, kissing your forehead and tucking your head against his chest, fingers gently combing through your hair.
His touch was loving, almost reverent, and it combined with the deep sense of contentment humming through your body after your release, causing you to melt against him without even realizing it. Sleep began to overtake you, his arms enveloping you like the warmest blanket.
Rafayel didn’t quite know how long he sat there, gently rocking you as his hand caressed your hair, reacquainting himself with its texture. He was certain of one thing: you had ruined him once more… There was no way he could let you go now—not that he had ever been truly capable of letting you go... Nor had he ever really wanted to.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝
#love and deepspace#love and deep space#l&ds#lnds#l&ds smut#l&ds fic#lnds smut#love and deepspace smut#l&ds rafayel#lads xavier#lnds xavier#rafayel love and deepspace#lnds rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel smut#rafayel x you#rafayel x reader#lads smut#lads rafayel
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Monstober - Day 5: Naga/Lamia [Elemental Sacrifices Part 1/4]
I am fashionably late and since this story was supposed to come out on my birthday I switched the prompts since we all know Nagas are my roman empire, hehe >:3
Also this is part 1 of 4 of a little mini-series happening in this Monstober Challenge, and I will lovingly call it the Elemental Sacrifices. I know we already had a sacrifice before, but what if—hear me out—we have 4 more? Yes, I thought that was a good idea too, glad we agree :D
(They are not much related aside from the concept, but they are in the same universe, so maybe there's some potential for future ideas! :D)
Prompt: Day 6: Naga/Lamia | Scales // Wrapping around // Poisonous Warnings: Yandere, AFAB!Reader, Sexual Actions (Dub-Con, Use of Aphrodisiac, Drinking said Aphrodisiac and getting it stabbed into your arm, Deep Kissing, Accidentally cutting your own tongue, Fingering), Violence (Biting with fangs, Description of (meager) fighting, Cutting the enemy, Blood mention), Monsters + Descriptions of Monsters, Light self-degradation, Long Post
The tradition had always existed.
From the moment you were born, you were told about the sacrifices made to the four gods, which took place twice a century. The four tribes would unite in peace and unity for this month of reverence, choosing their sacrifices carefully and laying down their weapons to organize and strategize the ceremonies so that no god would feel aggrieved. It was a wonder that people that worshipped different things, lived by different means, and usually clashed like hot and cold, light and shadow, could work together meaningfully to pay their respects, assure that everyone would continue to be in the favor of the different gods that roamed the lands you lived on.
And yet, somehow, it had always worked out.
"There, almost done," your mother mumbled, curling your still-damp hair around her finger so it would frame your face. You clenched your fists in your lap as you sat in front of the mirror, unable to even look at yourself without retching. 20 years ago, when you were told the stories for the first time, no one had assumed you'd be the one to be sacrificed in the next ceremony. No one informed you that your days were numbered, your purpose to be nothing but monster fodder.
Because that's what they were, monsters, nothing more, nothing less.
A two-headed snake, an ancient tree, a tentacled beast, and a fire-spewing reptile with wings—those were the four monsters you and the other tribes worshipped with offerings and sacrifices. All your life, you practiced the mindful handling of the teachings, learning how to hunt, fight, and serve your god. But even so, just because you were born the child of the leader, you were going to be discarded by your own people, and your hatred was as fiery as the vulcanos that surrounded your homeland.
"I heard the water tribe sends their most wonderful singer this year, too."
It was a frail attempt at small talk, and you couldn't care less about how pleased your mother sounded as she told you about the other sacrifices. The other poor souls that probably wanted nothing more than to run away about now. You had hidden your tears very well with your head hung low, but you couldn't imagine the other sacrifices felt any less miserable as you did.
You had plans for the future, plans that involved leading this tribe and creating a family sometime. Maybe participate in a war with the other tribes and show off the prowess of the fire tribe leader's oldest child. It was in the nature of your people to be strong and powerful, as was the exceptional artistry of the water people.
"And the earthclan sends another one of their scholars. I don't understand why they think the nature gods would like all these people hiding with their noses in their books, but I'm sure they have their reason for choosing them. Oh, but the wind people are also sending their ruler's child, just like you!"
A tone of pride swung in her voice as she continued arranging vividly red flowers like a crown in your head, pulling at strands of your hair to wrap them into the stems so they'd hold. "And yet, you'll make the prettiest sacrifice of them all. You'll make us all so proud!"
Inside of you, a war broke loose. A war you knew you couldn't win as you knelt on the floor of your childhood home, the place you always thought safest in all of the lands, yet it was no longer the place you'd return to after this expedition. All your good deeds and all your achievements were for naught because when the announcement was sent out that the sacrifice was going to be held that year, it ended your life instantly.
A part of you knew it could happen. Although you never wished this fate on anyone, you had always hoped for a sibling, born or adopted into your family, that could take this responsibility from you ever since you learned of it. Other tribes voted. They chose by luck or by skill at the time of sacrifice. But not yours. Yours had traditions, which meant the leader's strongest family member would go to the gods and ask for their blessings. Get eaten in exchange for a promise of safety and prosperity that the monsters could easily break on a whim. Returning would mean the blessing failed, so that wasn't an option. If you couldn't appease them alive, you would do it with your death. The ultimate sacrifice.
"Now, you're perfect. Look at you, my pretty child."
Pushing her fingertips into the underside of your jaw, your mother forced you to look up into the mirrors. Tears tumbled from your eyes as your head snapped upwards to avoid the discomfort of her nagging touch, and you watched her expression fall in her reflection. Not from sorrow, mind you, but anger.
"This is your duty," she reminded you. "Now that you have grown up and proved your worth, you should feel honored to be chosen."
You bit your tongue, swallowing the disrespect you wanted to voice. You couldn't care less about the sacrifice, about gaining the ire of some monster that some old people had decided to worship. About your mother's opinion or that of anyone else!
Deep inside you, you were afraid. Fear, first and foremost, had always been your teacher. It showed you the boundaries of your abilities and pushed you to perform deeds beyond your capabilities in times of need. It wasn't something to be ashamed of or scolded for; it was natural and normal.
But right behind it was anger. Anger at this tradition, anger at your family, and anger at the monsters for demanding lives in exchange for peace. Gods they called themselves, but there was nothing godly about how they conducted their demands. They were cowards with a taste for human blood, and instead of fighting and being slain by those humans, they demanded sacrifices to satisfy their hunger.
And there was nothing you could do to save yourself.
If you rebelled, you'd be dragged out by your limbs and hair, even if that destroyed the work they put into prettying you up. Who needed to be pretty when they'd be eaten alive? Still, as a warrior at heart, you couldn't imagine a greater shame than to force your friends to bring you to that dreadful sacrificial space, even if they might think it was for the greater good. If you had to go out, you wanted to do so with your head held high, no matter how foolish that pride of yours was. It was better than to put your unfair death entirely into the hands of others.
If you were going to be a martyr, then you'd at least die fighting until your last breath.
---
"That's far enough," you announced, coming to a halt at the edge of the lush green forest you used to hunt in. Before you, vulcanic stone spread in dark hues as far as you could see. Ash filled the air, mixed with the taste of metal and fire. Nothing grew on the stone ground, it was as welcoming as a death threat. Veins of red broke through the stone, leading to pools of lava that was cooking beneath the stone surface, the air simmering from the heat that immediately greeted you, coating your skin in a sheen of sweat. Once you had found the duality of this place beautiful. Now you dreaded it, hands curled into fists as you took slow, steady breaths to calm yourself.
"I wish to face the gods myself."
"Go forth then. Make us proud," your father expressed, resting his hand on your shoulder. A simple squeeze was all you got, and much like your mother who hugged you before your departure, their gestures were too brief to be any comfort. You wondered how they could have possibly come to terms so quickly with losing their own child when you, the one to be sacrificed, were struggling with your fear and pride.
Every step on the hot floor was like a stab of a knife in your back. The hunting party that had accompanied you watched as you continued your journey towards the sacrificial space the ancestors had created, their gazes like whips that spurred you on. But they didn't linger. Since they didn't have to tie you down on the altar, they had no reason to watch the gruesome death of their own kind, knowing that either way, you weren't going to return. You knew the way back to your village like the inside of your pocket, years of roaming the jungles teaching you how to go home. But they'd kill you before you cursed the village with your failure to be sacrificed. Merciless, cold. You were no longer a part of them. You were a meager part of the tradition now.
However, the way to the altar was actually more of a challenge than going home. You had only been there once as a child, laying flowers down for your uncle, who had been the last sacrifice years before your birth. Your father may have called him your uncle, but it turned out he was an adopted orphan who ended up paying for his dedication to your family much later. Your father seemed unsympathetic towards him, but it dawned on you that he must have never been close to this brother of his, probably knowing the fate that awaited him.
You never knew your uncle, but back then, you had been proud of him, too.
That day was also the first time your father explained the traditions and the importance of keeping them up. How much honor it brought to your family and how many lives it saved to lose one person. You wondered why, after he taught you so many skills, worked so hard to make you a respected member of your tribe, and loved you like a father would, he could so easily send you to your death. But it slowly dawned on you what kind of person your father was. One that didn't truly cared for his "family", only for his own pride and gains. And you had been so easily fooled as to believe him all this time.
It took you much longer than you remembered, but eventually, you reached the grounds your ancestors had created for this spectacle. It was close to the foot of the volcano, an altar erected from the stone sprouting from the ground with nothing else present in this wasteland. The heat had increased substantially over time, every breath burning in your lungs, your eyes dry, and your feet chafed from walking over the smoldering stone for so long. Dread was no longer a constant companion as acceptance slowly crept into your mind. You had seen the bones of many humans on the way to this place. Apparently, not everyone had been so lucky to have made it this far, either the environment or the monster killing them before they reached the altar. Or maybe themselves, now that you thought about it.
The sight of the raised altar forced a shuddering breath out of your lungs, the stinging sensation barely enough to distract you from the blaring truth. You were going to die. One way or another, you would. Touching the side of your leg, you felt the leather holster beneath your dress. The dagger you sneaked would probably not be enough to kill the monster, if there ever was one. Still, if you could inflict some damage to it, perhaps your tribe would one day snap out of the trance that it was this immortal threat that your ancestors appeased by offering their own children to it. Maybe they'd see the wounds and realize they didn't have to cower in fear of it, and thus, maybe your sacrifice would not be in vain.
Brushing your hand over the warm stone, you felt an untypical cold shudder run down your spine, knowing it was meant to be your deathbed. You wondered how many before you had laid here, waiting for the monster to come. How many had prayed, hoped, and begged to be saved, and how many had fought and struggled like you were going to. Following in their footsteps now, you knew they did what they thought was their best. That was the greatest honor you could bestow on them.
You hoisted yourself up, struggling to climb on top of the massive stone slab, before you sat close to the edge and stretched out your legs, feeling the burned and chafed soles of your feet crack as they finally got some rest. Hissing, you were confronted with the pain, yet you only sighed, swiping your hands over your face to free you of the sweat that was desperately trying to cool you down. Even if you were used to the warmer temperature of your home, it was nothing against the volcanic heat, and you almost admired it for burning for so long, never bothered by anyone. The air was as heavy as your soul felt, trapped in your body and scared to the heavens.
Imagining the snake did very little to soothe your mind, but you still tried to prepare for the shock its sight undoubtedly would be. You imagined a snake as tall as a building, with two heads splitting apart at one end. Heads with sharp fangs and venom dripping out of their mouths, eyes that ate you up before their maw even got close to you. It would slither over the ground, nimble, avoiding the lava pools, but too large to hide behind the wasteland it reigned over. Bloodlust urging it on as it smelled the sweet fragrance of the flowers on your head, which were delighted to bloom in the warm temperatures. A green tail? Brown? Perhaps a little of both? Maybe its scales were dark red like all the blood it drank from the sacrifices.
"Look at that, they do sacrifice their own kind."
Deep in thought, the heat probably having gone to your head, you hadn't noticed the chafing sound that slithered closer from behind. Only when someone suddenly spoke did your mind alert you of the danger, and you jumped down from the altar, swiftly spinning around and bracing yourself. One hand hovered over your dagger beneath your dress, and the other arm stayed defensively in front of you. With the distance you managed to jump and the massive altar separating you from the monster, you were at a surprising advantage, and it felt good to have the upper hand.
Your eyes widened at the sight of two men standing behind the altar, one of them leaning down on the stone surface right next to where you had sat. In contrast, the other stood straight with his arms behind his back, but both watched you with burning intensity. Immediately, you noticed their similar appearances, the light grey hair falling from their heads, bound by braids, and still with countless strands falling over their exposed chests. Their eyes were like marbles, reflecting the different colors of the area in them, elongated pupils slightly vibrating as they fixated over and over on you. But what really put you off was their size. Their legs must have been easily as tall as the altar, and that was no size a normal human should have had.
"Mother never told us sacrifices were this cute."
The man leaning on the table rolled over on his side, his hair splaying all over the altar in waves. And yet, even while moving, his gaze never trailed off—but yours did. You let out a horrified gasp as the scaled tail of a snake buckled and arched to accommodate the man's movements, and with a surprised jolt, he reared upwards, exposing even more of the tail that started at his hips.
A moment of silence washed over you three, and you felt incredibly exposed and stared down by two pairs of eyes as if they were pinning you into place. Willing you to not move a muscle, to be eaten without putting up a fight. No one said anything before the startled man laughed out loudly, shaking his head and holding his belly before slapping his free hand attention-seekingly against his companion's arm.
"That scared me," he chuckled. "I've never heard that kind of sound before."
The other man let out a hum of agreement, nodding his head before looking back at you. You were at a clear disadvantage, unsure where to look first and who to focus on, as you were outnumbered by the two. The one that kept talking was smaller than the other, although this could have been the heat playing tricks on you. Both were muscular, but he was less refined than his almost-twin. You wagered you could take him on if there wasn't a scaley tail winding from his hips. That would be additional weight you couldn't topple, no matter how much you playfighted the other hunters and warriors of your tribe, which sometimes outdid you in terms of weight and size.
The quieter one, on the other hand, had the typical looks of a working man in the village: big arms coming from a strong back and toned muscles that the woman would drool over, while the other seemed fit and nimble. But your eyes unwillingly focused on the tail as the two scaled the altar, moving forward oddly in sync until it became clear why.
Their two strands of tails flowed together between them into one massive one.
It was mesmerizing, you had to admit, the scales an iridescent white. But whenever the tail moved, it took on the hues of the land, grey and red, only to return to their original color as it wound itself. You were awestruck and panicked at the same time, as the tail seemed to be neverending, wrapping around the altar, finding hold on the stony ground that even your feet struggled with. Fear filled you as you watched their slithering movements, the mistake in your thinking now glaringly clear: The monster existed, and it had come for you.
"Y-You're the monster!" you screamed, and the smaller one of the two scrunched up his nose, taking offense. The white scales swept over the altar, landing in the space between you and the stone with a heavy thud. His body was barely shaken by the impact, so perfectly in balance with itself despite their unnatural split into two different entities, and the seriousness of the situation rained down on you like their sharp gazes as you realized there would be no chance of you overpowering either of them.
Even with their connection, they spread out too far to reach both simultaneously. They could still move independently, even if their range was limited to what their body could give. But even without them rearing up on the tail, they were almost two heads taller than you were. They knew their body better than anyone, and you didn't doubt they had some tricks up their non-existing sleeves to best you.
Biting your lip, you finally slipped your hand beneath your dress, never letting the monster—monsters—out of your sight. To your surprise, you watched their gazes slip to where you raised the fabric, observing you with curious intention, their split tongues slipping out from their lips, tasting the air as they ogled at your exposed thigh.
Your hand curled around the grip of your dagger, and the moment you pulled it from its holster, the snakes lept forward. There was no time to be proud of yourself, but your reaction was immaculate. You jumped back just in time to avert the nimble one's grabby hands, even drawing blood as your blade slit open the skin between his thumb and pointer finger.
However, as fast as you dealt with one of the snakes, you couldn't recover quickly enough to avoid the second pair of hands. Much like you anticipated, their range was too extensive to fight both of them at once, and although you ducked beneath one hand of the stronger monster, his second hand latched on, right in your hair. You watched as the red petals of the flower crown loosened and swayed in the air like a sad veil of defeat.
Your head was yanked back, and you acted quickly, directing the knife towards the unprotected free shoulder, somewhere that would hurt. Somewhere that would leave a visible scar and show everyone that these monsters could be injured. But a bloody grip around your wrist prevented you from pushing the dagger into the creature's partially scaled bodies, your hopes crumbling into ash.
"You good?" the more muscular man asked, and the other clicked his tongue in annoyance while you flailed and struggled in their grip. Your free hand was useless as you couldn't even reach forward enough, and so were your legs as you stood on your tiptoes while they yanked you around.
The latter lifted the hand that was holding your wrist to his mouth, licking up the blood that spilled from the cut on his as he maintained eye contact. You bared your teeth in both pain and defiance, not showing any of the miserable fear and panic you felt inside. You didn't manage to do what you came here for, and you felt the power surging through their bodies just from their hands on you. The failure gnawed at your determination, the fight as good as lost.
"We're not monsters," he hissed, glowering at you, although it looked more like a pout. "But you sure are quick on your feet."
Their comments should not have caused your heart to swell with pride, but hearing it from the monster you swore to hurt in exchange for your life did feel good.
"Surely you wish you'd have gotten an easier meal, monster! But I won't go down until I have shown everyone that you can be wounded and defeated! That you will bleed if the people unite! There will be no more sacrifices once they've seen what I did to you!"
"We're not monsters!" they repeated in unison before exchanging a brief glance with each other.
"Well, I won't call you god and beg for your mercy!" you spat, and the lips of the snake with your hand in his grip curled into a grin.
"Are you sure about that?"
With his blood coating your hand, he raised it way over your head, causing you to gasp as your whole body strained to accommodate the movement. His hand slipped upwards, a few fingers holding you in place, while some snaked between your palm and the knife in your grasp, prying your hold from it inch by inch. You let out a soft whine as the leather grip was torn from you and watched the metal clatter to the ground.
But you didn't have the time to mourn the loss of your only weapon, not when your arm was bent backward. Immediately, your free hand shot up, trying to dig your nails into the fingers wrapped around your wrist still.
That was your greatest mistake. With his free hand, the quiet monster immediately reached for both of yours, wrapping them in his palm as quickly as their tail could around your body.
You were kept on your tiptoes as you felt the scales of said tail slither over your skin. Creeping beneath your soles and running up your ankles, squeezing the flesh of your shins firmly together before wrapping around each thigh individually. You kicked and squirmed, but their tail was almost as unrelenting as their hands, and you involuntarily winced as your wrists were squeezed together as if tied by a rope.
"It's true we are not the monster you're trying to defeat," the leaner one claimed again, licking his wound like an injured animal.
"That's our mother," his brother explained curtly, and your head whirled around to him, the questions etched into your face.
"Look at us; we're only half the snake she is."
With an exasperated huff, you looked back and forth between the two, reeling at the revelation. "That's not possible! You... you are a snake with two heads. It's exactly as it's told in our stories!"
"They're not wrong..."
"I mean, she is a literal snake with two heads. And she's gigantic. You should be glad she didn't find you first, or you'd be even less than a small snack for her."
"And our dad is human. Like you."
You must have looked rightfully befuddled as the two went back and forth on their explanation, but once they were done, you could only gulp, unsure what to make of the situation. "So... you're not the monster that demands sacrifices?"
"No."
"Not really."
"Then..." It was hard to form the words that zapped through your mind, your mouth suddenly feeling dry again as the adrenaline sifted from your blood flow. Nothing could rationalize this situation, and you were still strung up by their hands and tail. This almost felt too good to be true, so you had to take your chance as long as you could. "You'll let me go?"
A moment of silence hung over all three of your heads before the brothers slowly ripped their gazes off you to exchange sly smirks. You wobbled as their body—and by extension, yours—set into motion, slithering back to the altar until you were sat down, your back forced to rest on the stone like a lamb to slaughter, hands hanging over the edge above your head and legs still wrapped by their tail.
"Oh, you can't just leave," the lean one purred, coming up from below you and planting his clawed hands firmly on either side of your arms. "The nights get so cold, and the days are so lonely with our mom busy occupying our dad. She never lets us play with him or come back to our home. Won't you keep us company for a while longer? I'm sure you can teach us some things, and we can teach you."
The other settled on the opposite side, still holding your hands in place as he grunted in agreement. You felt the bile rise in your throat as one touch slipped below your line of sight, claw-like nails raking up your thigh and moving beneath your dress. Their intentions got more apparent as the fabric was gripped from above, too, slowly, sensually raising over your skin until the hip strap of your underwear was revealed.
In a last-ditch effort, you tried to struggle once more, legs tugging upwards and kicking at the ever-winding tail while your hands twisted in their hold, causing it to crush down onto your bones even more. That wasn't how you wanted to go down; it wasn't the fight to death you thought you'd have!
"End me, then. Get it over with," you yelled out, laying your head to the side and closing your eyes, the reality too hard to face. Sooner or later, you'd die anyway, and if this were the things you'd have to endure, you'd rather be dead. It wasn't the kind of sacrifice you wanted to be, one defiled and molested before you'd be killed, so you'd rather be dead than witness it.
"Hush now," someone murmured, and you felt a hand sweep underneath your chin, turning your head forward again before tugging it up and over the altar's edge. Your eyes snapped open as your instincts kicked in, but as you opened your mouth to scream, it was quickly covered by another.
A tongue slipped between your opened lips before you could close them, slashing around inside harshly and clogging your throat. There was too much to take, and you gulped down the wetness it brought, sloshing it everywhere to the point it dripped from your lips, running down your face that immediately heated up beneath the fluid. It tasted sweet and even when you wanted to stop, you couldn't, gulping down all that was given to you.
Your body began to relax while you felt a hand drive down the front of your torso, brushing an entire palm over your breast and getting stuck on your nipple. You jolted, a pang of electricity flying to your head and down your spine, your back arching as you couldn't understand what was going on anymore. You had never felt this sensitive before, and as the hand continued to roam from one side to the other, finding the budding nip beneath your dress and twisting it, you let out an unholy moan into the mouth of the monster, your own tongue lashing upwards until it got caught on a sharp fang. Despite not feeling it, you were pretty sure your tongue was ripped open, but even more of the sweet-tasting, addictive stuff dripped from the fang, gushing into your mouth. You gobbled it up, considering you had nothing to drink throughout your journey, and your mind was not getting enough of the taste.
"Considering how quickly you got hooked on our mating fluids, I'd not be surprised if you do end up calling us gods when we're done with you."
You barely heard the voice of the curious onlooker beyond your line of sight, your mind wholly crazed by the liquid that coated all of your mouth and senses. It took almost more work to extract the monster's tongue from your throat than it had putting it inside. Your head followed it upwards, unwilling to part while the drool kept dripping down onto your face.
As you were freed of the kiss, a shameful, miserable sigh of disappointment escaped you, and you barely regained the ability to reply, "Never," in response to what the snake had said. That caused both of them to chuckle, and the sound sent a core-clenching, spine-tingling warmth throughout your body. Your lips quivering as your mind begged for more of that deep rumble cursing through their bodies.
"We'll see about that," the monster from below mumbled as he raked his claws over your thigh. Immediately, you were jolting upwards in their hold, caught between pain and pleasure as he lightly scabbed your skin. It was a small revenge for his own wound, and the scratches burned deliciously as they welcomed the hot air all around you two. "You're already so wet for us."
"It's called sweat," you mewled defiantly, the sound of your voice not befitting your sarcasm. You clenched your legs together, but it was a vain effort with the tail still stuck above your knees, easily prying them open by driving upwards. The scales rubbing over your skin didn't help your misery at all, and you wanted to throw your head against a solid wall with how dizzy and needy you felt. It wasn't you on that altar, but a very distorted version of you, one that wanted to be fucked silly even though what you really wanted was a good fight.
The two laughed at your comment, and you moaned in annoyance at the electricity that sapped through you at the sound of their voices. Your head fell back over the edge, and you came face to face with the more muscular one of the brothers as he lowered himself to your eye level. His eyes raked over your face, then up to your exposed neck just waiting to be bit.
"You're so cute," he mumbled, split tongue darting out again, tasting the air. Your pussy clenched as you wished for that tongue back in your throat or, even better, caressing your quivering folds below that were begging for something to fill their loneliness. The experience was new to you, as you had never wanted intimacy like this with anyone before. You had been so focused on your goals and diligently upholding your parents' rules and traditions that you never craved anyone, but especially not these two beasts.
"I'm not cute," you mewled, closing your eyes and biting your lips as you felt the sharp claws hover above your abdomen, gently stroking the skin below your navel from side to side, your core clenching even harder with pure, undiluted desire. But when the fingers slipped beneath the rim of your underwear, you moaned as you expected them to dip into the wet mess that lay just beneath, the expectation almost enough to send you over the edge.
"Oh, yeah?" the snake-man grinned, and you felt one finger press into your slit, your folds welcoming it warmly and with a shudder going through your body. You quaked in pleasure, eyes blown wide open, and the two fangs of the monster were all more prevalent as his lips split into a toothy smile. "So cute," he doubled down, pulling your arms taut until your body stretched to the last of its capabilities.
With his lips gently brushing against your forearm, you were wholly unprepared for the sharp pain as he dug his fangs deep into your skin. But the shriek quickly turned into a moan, your hips grinding against the finger probing at your entrance as more of the aphrodisiac went straight into your bloodstream. You watched the dark fluid drip off your arm, causing even more heat to spread where it flowed, and you were mercilessly whining as you couldn't move your hips nearly enough to satisfy your needs.
"Please," you snapped upwards, staring at the creature settled on top of the altar next to you, leisurely rubbing his hand along your pussy.
"There goes the begging," he reminded you, and you bit your lip to the point of hurting yourself.
Fuck, that wasn't what you wanted to say. It wasn't how you wanted to die, you never intended to let it get this far. Pathetic, pathetic, absolutely pathetic. You were a fucking warrior, you fought threats and hunted prey, you were not going to surrender to them—
"Fuck!" you gasped out loud this time as one digit slipped inside you. You felt it hook inside your pussy, slowly dragging out despite being clung to firmly by your insides. All the faster did he push it inside again, every joint that buried inside you made you arch your back and rejoice. You nearly avoided being scratched open inside, purely by how slick your pussy and his hand were by now, more fluids gushing out as he pulled his finger from you again and again.
Simultaneously, another digit curled down, fondling the heated folds until it pressed down on your clit, forcing a mewl from you. Fangs tore out of your skin, but you barely noticed as the two fingers united, taking up more space inside of you and scissoring your walls apart until you felt your pussy gaping and drooling obscenely.
"I'll not... submit," you stammered between bated breaths. "I'll not... be your plaything."
"And we wouldn't want it any other way," they chimed in unison, exchanging a satisfied glance before grinning.
"Mom always said to look out for the feisty ones."
"We just didn't think you'd come to meet us so soon."
"Or that you'd be this fun to play with."
Your whole body shuddered as both fingers were pulled out of your terribly needy hole. Your breath was almost non-existent, the lack of air only stimulating you more as you heard the sloppy sounds of your wet pussy letting go of the monster's fingers. A hand slipped beneath your head, helping you to hold it up as you watched the leaner brother lifting his pointer and middle finger to his face, split tongue lapping out to taste your slick pulling strings in the gaps while maintaining eye contact with you all throughout it.
"They're perfect," he purred as he looked up, stretching his arm towards his brother, who leaned forward to have his taste of you from his brother's fingers.
"Damn, that's sweet," he commented too on your fluids, licking them from his lips as he looked down at you in a mix of surprise and awe.
"And so pretty, too."
You felt their eyes in the same way their claws had raked over your body. Hungrily, with the intention to harm you. And yet, your hole kept gaping, needing more stimulation, wanting more. You were the pitiful prey you kept denying you were, but it seemed that in their eyes, you were so much more than that.
"Our little fighter," the one at your side murmured, stretching upwards to hover beside your face.
"Are you not even finishing what you started?" you spit, your venom not nearly as effective when your voice sounded as if you were drugged and disgruntled.
"Oh, I will, little fighter. We're going to make sure you can take us before spreading you on our cocks and make you cry out in pleasure until you call us "god". But before that, you have to be good and let us take you to our nest. Bonding will take so much time, and you are much too vulnerable out here."
"Fuck you," you grunted, trying to elbow him, but your arm barely moved.
"Keep it up," he grinned. "Wouldn't want you to give up too easily. Breaking you in is part of the fun."
"You're a fucking monster after all."
The snakes hummed thoughtfully as you were finally pulled off the table. Instead of being dragged by your arms or wrapped in their tail, however, you were slung over the bigger brother's shoulder, feeling his hand immediately settle beneath your asscheek, not so subtly poking at your pussy with his claw.
"Let me go!" you demanded weakly, your sore hands pounding pitifully into his shoulder.
"And miss out on all this fun? I don't think so," the leaner brother answered.
"Mother told us you can't go back anyway," the one carrying you added, throwing salt into the wound. They were right, but that didn't mean you'd go down so easily, even if your legs were still quivering and your head throbbing with need. "They'll kill you on sight, won't they? And then they'll return you to the altar so we can eat you."
A hand clasped around your jaw, claws digging into your cheeks as your head was lifted to face the leaner brother. "You know we prefer a different taste," he grinned, and you felt your anger rise again together with the shame of his implication. Collecting your saliva and some of the residues of the aphrodisiac, you spit them into his face, not caring whatsoever what that meant for you.
The snake-man scrunched up his face, quickly wiping it away. "Save your drool," he snarled, and you grinned victoriously despite the clasp he held your face in.
But as if on cue, a large palm flattened against your ass, and you jolted forward on the shoulder, eyes blown wide open as you gasped. You couldn't believe it as the wave of pleasure finally crashed into your rockfest resolution, your toes curling upwards and your eyes rolled back, your orgasm hitting you harder than even the slap had.
"Oh, god," you whispered breathlessly while riding the high of pleasure and shame as you felt your juices leaking even through your panties, dripping and running down the body of the other stronger brother.
"Seems like you finally get it, sacrifice," the guy in front of you noted, brushing his thumb over your lips, which opened automatically to his beckoning.
"Let's go, brother," he urged. "Seems our little fighter needs just a bit more convincing as to why they'll love being ours. I can't wait to make their belly swell with our clutch, just like Mother has always told us."
"We're lucky we found a mate so quickly," the other agreed, and you let out a defeated huff, no more words to counter them with coming to your dazed thoughts.
Their tail set into motion, scales slithering over stone, while your mind drifted off, the aphrodisiac having too much of a hold on your conscience for you to be rid of it quickly. You were going to be taken by the monsters, and if you thought you were helpless before, your body now barely felt like it belonged to you. It was as if you weren't its master anymore, but that drug and those snakes were. You could only shiver, even though the air was getting hotter the closer you three got to the volcano, wondering if you at least fulfilled your duty as a sacrifice.
And when that duty would finally end.
#Monstober 2024#Naga#yandere naga#yandere!naga#monster#yandere monster#yandere!monster#monster x reader#yandere#yandere tw#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere fanfiction#yandere oneshot#yandere writing#yandere drabbles#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios
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the world's hatred for Jews will never be stronger than our love for each other. we have kept our culture and identity and unity strong for over 2,000 years of diaspora and oppression. we have watched empires rise and fall like the cycles of winter and summer. we have seen kings and dictators and zealots alike swear to wipe us out and then crumble into the dust of history.
we have been here for thousands of years, we still speak the same language and still recite the same prayers and poems. when I rise in the morning and say "Shema Yisrael, Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad!" it sounds exactly the same as it did when my ancestors said it 5,000 years ago. and it will sound the same when my descendants say it 5,000 years from now.
we are an ancient, stubborn, resilient people with long memories and beautiful art. our libraries are full of history and debate and study and stories and every year that we live their shelves grow heavier.
you cannot stamp us out, no matter how hard you try. we have survived the Romans, the Greeks, the Persians, the Assyrians, the Abassids, the Caliphate, the Russians, the Czars, the Nazis, the Soviets, the Inquisition, the Catholics and more dead empires than I care to name.
we will survive you.
I love you, my fellow Jews. We will survive this one, too.
Thank you, Hashem, for making me a Jew.
אני אוהבת את עם ישראל 💙
עם ישראל חי!
מיר וועלן זיי איבערלעבן!
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Divine obsession.
Obsessed!Sunday x gn!reader
content warning: obsession, religious themes, sexual fantasies implied, self-punishment.
author's note: Please go easy on me, this is my first time writing a fanficition. I've only written headcanons until now :( also English is not my first language.
With that being said, enjoy this!
The sound of soft humming filled the dimly lit room. A dozen candles were positioned on what seemed to be an altar and, approaching them with light and cautious movements, the man with the halo began to light them one by one as per his daily routine.
Sunday, takes a box of matches from his pocket. The box is small, rectangular, with the edges worn from countless uses, evidence of matches lit in the past. With a fluid gesture, the thumb pushes the internal drawer, making it slowly slide out. Fingers grasp a match carefully and with a firm but controlled movement, the match is brought to the side strip. Then, with a sharp snap, the wrist moves: the match is dragged along the rough surface. The head catches fire in an instant, releasing a small flame.
One...
The number One is the divine principle. The One is the all, the Eternal Infinite Being, which has no form and possesses all forms…
For the first meeting and the first time the light shone on him. The first tim e Sunday was truly intrigued by someone. From the way they acted to the way they looked like, to the way everyone looked at them.
"My liege appears so noble and honest, when they greet people, so much so that everyone is silent and the eyes do not dare to look at them".
Two...
Two derives from the division of unity and is the symbol of separation, because from a sacred point of view, unity is essentially one and unique...
He remembers the pain of separation, a powerful pang in his chest when he had to stop looking at you, dragged by his sister to fulfill his duties as part of one of the most renowned families. Oh, How he wished he could continue listening to the conversation you were immersed in with your friends. Your laugh and your look, your modest manner in response to the praise of your traveling companions
"They proceed, hearing praises, with the outward appearance of courteous benevolence and they seem to be a descended creature from heaven to earth to show divine power".
Three...
The combination of three perfect elements: wisdom, intelligence and love. You represented all of them.
"They appear so beautiful to those who look at them, which through the eyes transmits a sweetness to the heart that those who don't experience it can't understand...".
Four...
The perfect number.
Watching you from afar, Sunday had come to the conclusion that you represented everything perfect in this world.
"...and it seems to come from their face a sweet spirit of love which says to the soul: breathe".
Five...
The number Five symbolizes universal life, human individuality, will, intelligence, inspiration and genius…
The first time you spoke to him he felt that his life in the universe had a specific purpose, to be at your side. Not to mention the fact that you got along extremely well with his sister...Your happy smiles as you spent time together...Your involuntary and affectionate touches. They made him think, perhaps your fulfillment in earthly life was to be part of his family... and perhaps this had been written in the stars years, centuries, millennia before your births. It was fate.
"I saw the bright morning star that appears before the day dawns, and who took human form ; more than any other it seems to me to give splendor"
Six...
Six is a mystical and ambivalent number in its meaning, as it is the number of balance and perfect order...
But perhaps the fulfillment of your life was not on earth, he thought, such a perfect being, endowed with such a pure soul. Sunday knew that to limit your existence and confine it, to simply associate it with a body as an object was considered heresy to him. No...your fulfillment went far beyond worldly life, you were destined for what was defined as metaphysical that the mind cannot understand, but for the gaps that reason cannot fill; the heart and faith take its place.
And Sunday believed.
He had faith.
"Their face, eyes bright, cheerful and full of love ; I don't think there's someone in the world so full of beauty and value."
Seven...
Seven expresses globality, universality, perfect balance and represents a complete and dynamic cycle...
And then his cycle of worship began. Poems, sonnets, prayers, texts proclaimed sacred by Sunday himself... The mind has no limit to creativity when a merciful and grace-filled being is at its guide.
"And I am assailed by their value with such a cruel battle of sighs...".
Eight...
The Eight is the symbol of infinity, the reflection of the spirit in the created world, of the immeasurable and the indefinable...
Sunday punished himself, he had to.
He had sinned.
A lash on his back accompanied by a "Shame" from his lips for every vile and vulgar thought he had.
He began to imagine a more intense bond.
The sound of a whip.
"Shame".
Your body on his.
Another firm sound.
"Shame".
He imagined what the eyes could not see.
He felt his skin burning for his sins, for you.
He could start to feel blood gushing from his wounds.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
One drop of blood after another, One sin after another.
"Shame".
Sinning had never felt so sweet.
"...that I wouldn't have the courage to speak in front of them".
Nine...
The number Nine is the overcoming of creation and infinity, represented by eight.
Because if the divine possesses all the positive qualities of this world and beyond it, then they must necessarily also possess that of existence and infinity. This is the explanation of their divinity.
"Oh, if only they knew of my desires!"
Ten...
Symbolizes perfection, as well as the annulment of all things. 10 = 1+0 = 1 illustrates the eternal starting over…
Everyone called him crazy but limited and closed minds like those couldn't understand. They had not been illuminated by the light. Once you are exposed to light you can't go back, you don't want to go back. In order not to be contaminated by the foolishness of other human minds, he therefore took refuge in his safe place.
Nothing can make him go astray from the right path.
"Because, without saying, I would be rewarded by them for the pity they would have for my sufferings".
The candles cast flickering light upon an altar meticulously arranged with objects they had unknowingly blessed with their touch and that were carefully arranged by Sunday's trembling hands.
He knelt before the altar, his gaze never leaving the central object—a photograph of the reader. Their smile radiated warmth, like sunlight piercing through clouds, and He could almost feel their presence enveloping him.
Sunday clasped his hands tightly.
“Oh, divine one, guide me”.
He whispered, his voice shaking.
“Your light blesses this wretched world. Let me be worthy to serve you”.
The faint sound of a knock startled him. Sunday scrambled to extinguish the candles, his movements frantic yet deliberate. He couldn't let the sanctity of his ritual be disturbed by prying eyes.
“Sunday? Are you there?”
It was them.
His heartbeat thundered in his chest. For a moment, he stood frozen, his mind racing. What had he done to deserve their presence? Were they here to deliver a message? Or a command?
“I—just a moment!” He called, hastily adjusting his hair before opening the door.
They stood there, their usual serene demeanor making his knees weak. Their presence suddenly illuminated the sacred room.
“Hey... I wanted to check in on you. You've been keeping to yourself a lot lately,” they said with a gentle smile while entering the room, noticing the lack of light of the place.
Sunday's breath caught. Every word they spoke was divine scripture in her ears. He bowed his head slightly, his voice reverent, shaking and not daring to look in their eyes. “I… I am unworthy of your concern. But thank you, truly, for blessing me with your attention.”
They blinked, a bit taken back. “Uh, you don't have to talk like that, Sunday. We're friends, remember?”
His body went stiff and his eyes widened. “Friends?” The word echoed in his mind like a sacred hymn, over and over. “You honor me beyond what I could ever deserve. To be your friend… it is a privilege I could never repay.”
They huckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of their neck and Sunday could not comprehend how a simple gesture could hit him so deep, but then, again, it's you. No being could ever make him feel these sensations, the feeling of salvation. “You don't owe me anything, you know. Just… make sure you're taking care of yourself, okay?”
“I will, as you command,” Sunday said fervently, clasping his hands together.
“Command? Sunday, I'm not—”
“Every word you speak is a gift,” He interrupted, his voice trembling with emotion. “A light in the darkness of this world. You are the reason I rise each day, the reason I strive to better myself. I live to follow your will.”
“Sunday…”
His gaze locked onto theirs, his eyes filled with an almost unsettling intensity. “Please, if I have done anything to displease you, tell me. I will repent. I will do anything to earn your forgiveness.”
They sighed, their expression softening. “You haven't done anything wrong, just...You don't need to treat me like I'm... special.”
“But you are special,” Sunday whispered, emphasizing every word, his voice barely audible. “You are a god among mortals. Your kindness, your wisdom, your very presence—everything about you is divine. How could I see you as anything less?”
They frowned.
Why are they frowning?
“Sunday, I'm just me. I don't know where you're getting this idea, but—”
“I see it,” He insisted, stepping closer, eyes wide, hands grasping the air in front of him but never daring to reach for them. “In every word you speak, every action you take. You carry a light that others can't. I only wish more people could see it, but perhaps… perhaps they are unworthy.”
They took a step back, clearly uncomfortable. “Okay, this is getting a little intense. Maybe we should talk about this later.”
“Please don't go!” Sunday reached out, stopping himself just before touching them. “I—I apologize if I've overstepped. I only want to serve you, to be useful to you.” His voice cracked with desperation and glossy eyes. “Please, tell me how I can prove my devotion. I will do anything.”
They hesitated, their concern evident. “Sunday, I think you need to take a step back and talk to someone about this. I care about you, but this… this isn't healthy.”
His heart shattered at their words, but he forced a smile. “O-of course. If that is your wish, I will obey.”
They smiled at him before turning their back to walk towards the door and open it.
"I hope you find the light of reason again"
And a second later, silence.
As they left, Sunday sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face. “They test me,” he murmured to himself. “They want to see if my faith is strong enough. I won't falter. I will try it myself. No matter what it takes, I will become worthy.”
His resolve hardened. The candles flickered back to life as he resumed his prayers, his whispered vows filling the room.
“Your light guides me, and I shall follow, no matter where it leads. Even if it destroys me.”
#yandere hsr#hsr sunday#hsr x reader#sunday hsr#hsr#sunday x you#sunday x reader#sunday#yandere sunday#yandere#obsession#obsessive love#obsessive yandere#actually obsessive#obsessive thoughts#obslove#character x reader#character x y/n#character x you
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Veils of Rivalry
Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: You hated him, but you also didn't. It was complicated, but it also wasn't.
Once upon a time, in a Hogwarts, there were two individuals who were known far and wide as the fiercest enemies.
Their names were Y/N Y/L/N and Mattheo Riddle, and their rivalry was the stuff of legends.
They clashed at every turn, their sharp tongues and quick wits always ready to spar.
And it all started during your first year.
Mattheo was as confident as ever getting into Slytherin. And you? Just a very lost Ravenclaw who was looking for their next class.
He ran into you, and didn't even apologise or help you collect your books.
"Rude." you said as he continued his walk.
It was only the first time but then words were exchanged and soon, the entire school knew, you and Riddle mustn't be left in the same room.
Despite your mutual hatred, there was an undeniable tension between you that neither of you could ignore.
You denied your feelings, determined to maintain the facade of hatred that had defined your relationship for so long.
But as fate would have it, circumstances plotted to bring you together in a way neither could have predicted.
One fateful night, a masquerade ball was held in the school, and both of you found themselves in the big hall. It was during your sixth year.
You didn't even notice that you were dancing around him.
In a moment of pure bliss and fun, you found yourself drawn to Mattheo, your hand reaching out to touch his arm.
He looked at you, surprise and something else flickering in his eyes before he pulled you into his arms and led you onto the middle of the dance floor.
You moved together in perfect unity, your bodies pressed close as the music played loud in your ears. You smelled tobacco on him, he smelled your sweet perfume.
As the night went on, it was as if all those arguments never even happened, as if you both forgot who the other was.
And then, in a moment of pure impulse, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.
A spark igniting that neither could deny. You weren't sure why you kissed him.
When you pulled back, your eyes went wide with shock and something else, something that felt dangerously like lust.
For a moment, you stood there, caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
But then, this time, he leaned in and kissed you again, your passion igniting like wildfire as you finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.
"Riddle," you said with a desperate tone, you hated to sound like that.
"Come with me." he said with such a soft tone of voice.
You followed him to a silent corridor as you leaned against the wall, he trapped you in with his arms next to your head.
"I don't know what you are playing at, but I'm serious."
"I'm not playing." your reply was immediate, his eyes never left your eyes, you reached out and pulled him closer by his shirt. "Kiss me please."
And he didn't need to be told twice.
His lips melted with yours, his arms moving to hold you closer.
Taglist:
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219
@dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
#x reader#fanfiction#x female reader#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle fluff#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys#mattheo riddle x fem reader#mattheo riddle x female reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fandom#harry potter x reader#mattheo riddle x y/n#slytherin boys x you#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys imagines#mattheo riddle imagines
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