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puppykento · 3 months

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SALVATION - SUGURU GETO

ft. cult leader!suguru geto x fem!reader

a/n: first full fic on this blog !! been thinking on this for a WHILE and it's finally here :3 feedback/rbs insanely appreciated, hope you all like the fic <3 thank you to @kaitkatme and @nexysworld for beta reading this for me ♡

cw: 18+ content, manipulation, dub-con due to heavy coercion, fingering, corruption kink, loss of virginity, use of 'master', power imbalance, p in v, creampie, breeding, talks of marriage, geto calls reader his wife and little lamb

word count: 2k words

Suguru knew the moment he laid eyes on you that he had to have you. You came to him all nervous and jittery, unable to even meet his eyes. He can see the curse hovering over you, infecting you with its presence. He can tell it's been haunting your dreams before you even open your mouth to say anything, without even looking at the dark circles under your eyes. He listens to you talk, nodding along with feigned sympathy to make you feel comfortable and let your guard down around him.

“I can cure you of your ailment, my dear. But it is best if you stay here for a few days. I can sense you're troubled, and I hope to make sure I can rid you of this disease properly.” He says after a moment, but he's already reaching out to absorb the curse, slipping the orb into his pocket to consume later. He tilts his head, offering you a grin that's all teeth with a hidden sense of malice.

“I'll have someone set up a room for you.” Is all he says before he's leaving the room, waving in one of his disciples to deal with you for now. He had plans he had to form, so he couldn't waste his time on you just yet.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

He returns to you later that night, a lesser curse prepared to infect you with, using it to infect the herbal tea he's prepared for you. For a human of your health, it should simply induce a fever and fitful sleep. Enough for him to convince you that you needed to stay while he purged you of the ‘ailment’ he had diagnosed you with. Enough for him to get closer to you.

“Has everything been to your liking?” He asks as he settles on the edge of your bed, pressing the back of his hand to your head as he hands you the infected tea, making sure you don't take too bad of a turn in reaction towards it. He watches you closely as you start to sip from it, politely thanking him and nodding at his question. Non-sorcerers were such weak, fickle people. He could not harm you before he'd got what he wanted from you.

The effect is almost instant. He watches your eyelids droop as you gaze at him, almost looking like you're in a daze. Your skin grows hot under his touch, growing clammy as the fever sets in. He bites his cheek to suppress a smile as he sees how well the curse takes to you, forcing a look of concern to wash over his face.

“Oh, dear. I've been working on flushing the illness from your body, but it appears it's fighting back. I really do recommend you take my offer to stay for a few days. A week, maybe. Your recovery is important to me, dear.” He says softly, his practised tone low and caring, designed to lure you into a false sense of security. He smiles when he sees you nod in agreement, gently swiping his thumb against your forehead.

You really are far too pretty for a mere non-sorcerer, he thinks, his gaze trailing your face. It felt like a waste that someone like you was born as such a lesser creature. It was a good thing you had Suguru to guide you, to direct you along the right path. You'd be the only one of your kind worthy of walking amongst other sorcerers and his disciples. His perfect wife. You'd want him soon enough, he'd make sure of it.

Over the next few days, he works slowly to wean you off of the curse he'd put into your system, doting on you as much as his dwindling patience would allow while building up your trust in him. After a few days, he removes it, pocketing the orb and nursing you through the lingering effects it had left behind.

The fever remains, rendering you bed bound even without the curse in your system. It appeared to have weakened your immune system considerably more than Suguru had initially anticipated. Not that it particularly mattered - feverish was good and could easily work in his favour. It would make you more delirious, more pliable to his wishes.

He makes his way to your room with your nightly tea, offering you a small smile as he sits on the edge of your bed, instinctively pressing his hand to your head as he'd done every night prior to this one. He hands you your tea, brushing your cheek with his hand.

“Your fever is fading. I don't think it'll be long before you've returned to your normal self.” He tells you, his eyes locked onto yours as you sip from the cup in your hand.

“Thank you for your help, Master Geto. I feel a lot better now. It's been a while since I managed to get a full-night's sleep.” You reply, offering him a gentle smile. Your eyes still look a little hazy, as if you're about to fall asleep any moment. Suguru decides to put his plan into action.

You're not quite delirious enough to miss the way his hand wanders along your side, caressing the curve of your hip and giving it a squeeze before he slips his hand under your shirt, feeling the fever hot skin of your stomach. His eyes flick up as he hears the cup being set on the table, your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Master Geto-”

“Shh, shh. Quiet, little lamb. I'm doing this to help you. You trust me, don't you.” He coos, his voice almost disarmingly sweet. You're not used to him using that tone, and it sends your mind spinning for a moment. You gasp as his hand slips higher, cupping your bare breast as he runs a thumb over your nipple. His hands feel cold on your heated skin, causing the bud to stiffen under his touch.

“Non-sorcerers are so predictable. One touch and you're already willing to submit to me.” He says with a soft huff of laughter, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, drawing a whine from you. He sees your expression when he refers to you as such, which only serves to make him laugh harder. “Oh, please don't tell me you mistook me for one of your pathetic kind?”

His hands shift to pull on your trousers, yanking them down with your underwear. You kick out, but the fever makes you weak. Your fight amuses Suguru, drawing another laugh from him. “My little lamb is such a fighter. Darling, there's no use in fighting. You will be my wife, and you will give me an heir.”

He watches you closely, waiting for a protest that doesn't come. Only then does he truly smile, a grin spreading across his face. His thumb parts your pussy, and he clicks his tongue softly when he comes into contact with your wetness. “Ah, what's this? Does being my wife please you so much? Has another man touched you like this before, little one?”

You shake your head instantly, your cheeks growing hot under his intense gaze. He hums softly in thought, dipping his thumb past your entrance, gently teasing it. “A virgin? Mhm, I almost can't believe I'd be so lucky. You don't mind if I check, do you?”

The way you squirm as he slips his thumb away to push his index finger into your cunt is enough to tell him you're untouched, but he doesn't plan on stopping any time soon. The sooner you're swollen with his children, the better. He wants to make sure that you'd be his obedient little wife, and he has no plans on letting you so much as leave this room until he's stuffed you full.

He takes his time stretching you out, slowly adding extra digits until you're keening after being stuffed full of three of his fingers. He presses his palm against his clit as he opens you up, smirking as he watches you attempt to hump his hand to get some friction against your swollen bud. He pulls his hand away when he feels you clenching around his fingers, tutting softly.

“Now, now, little lamb. No cumming unless it's on my cock.” His words are followed by him removing his kāṣāya and loosening his yukata so he can free his cock, pumping it lazily a few times before aligning himself with your entrance. You choke out a gasp as he presses forward, slowly sinking into you inch by inch. You feel like the air is being pushed out of your lungs, your hands clutching losely at the robe still dangling from his body.

“M-Master…” You breathe out, your expression tense as he buries himself to the hilt in your cunt. His jaw clenches as he forces himself to remain still despite the tight heat surrounding him. A hiss is forced out through gritted teeth as he slowly starts to move, his hand gripping your waist tightly to prevent you from moving too much.

“Quiet, little lamb. You will adjust. Your body was made to take my seed. I knew that as soon as I laid eyes on you.” He grits out, placing your calves over his shoulders so he can fuck into you deeper, his hips slapping the flesh of your ass with every thrust.

His cock glistens with your arousal, spotted slightly with blood that serves as evidence of your purity. The sight has him smiling, rutting his cock into you with more urgency. His pretty wife was perfect for him in every way. He'd be the first and last man to ever touch you. He'd make sure of it. The tip of his cock presses against your cervix as he adjusts his hips, making sure every inch of him fills you.

“My little wife… I'll keep you nice and filled for days. Gonna make sure it takes, gonna give you my baby.” His cock brushes your sweet spot every time he drags it along your fluttering walls, your slick coating his length, dripping down to his balls. The sight alone is almost enough to make him cum, but he's determined to see you cum first. He can be a kind leader, after all - and there is a large part of him that would love to feel you tighten around him, drawing his out his orgasm.

“Bet you'd like that, hmm?” He questions, biting back a moan as he thrusts balls deep into your drippy cunt, grinding the hair at the base of his cock against your clit. His hands slide down to spread your lips so he can rut his pelvis against you. You moan out his title as you finally come undone, flooding him with your release. He fucks into you sloppily, strands of silky, black hair framing his face as he lets his head hang down. “It's an.., ah… honour to carry my child. Thank me for… for choosing you. Fuck… thank your master, little lamb.”

“Thank you.” You whine, back arching as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, the sensitivity causing tears to form in your eyes. You clench tighter around him, doing your best to milk his cock dry. “Thank you, Master.”

The words are enough to send him over the edge, his teeth clenching as he lets out a guttural moan, forcing himself right up against your cervix to ensure his cum stays deep inside of you. He lets out a shaky breath, doing his best to manoeuvre both of you into a lying position without pulling out.

He gently wipes a few tears that spill past your eyes with the pad of his thumb, pressing a kiss to your head. “Shh, little lamb. You'll be alright. I'll take care of you and my child. I promise.”

He had every intention of following through on his promise. He would not let harm come to his heir or wife, and he'd gladly kill anyone who attempted to disrespect you. You were his now, and he always protected what was his.

#suguru♡#jjk smut #jjk x reader #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #geto x reader #geto smut #suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n

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jessamine-rose · 2 months

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⋆˚♱ଘ Red Sky at Night, Shepherd’s Delight ଓ♱˚⋆

*slides in with more Church AU ideas* May I interest y’all in Priest! Arlecchino x Devotee! Darling?? Do enjoy this sweet story ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

Tw:: yandere, manipulation, psychological trauma, stalking, blood, violence, death, religious abuse, self-flagellation, harassment, MDNI, pls take note of these warnings

Note:: FICTIONAL depictions of religion

♡ 3.7k words under the cut ♡

♡ As with most nations, the Church is the highest authority in Fontaine. This is especially true for the Court of Fontaine, a city that boasts a strong faith in God. However, it is this same faith which has been corrupted by the Church to spin a web of lies, prejudices, and hypocrisies. Still, there is hope for that city, as provided by its head priest Arlecchino.

♡ Not much can be said about her previous life. In the past, she was known as Peruere, a quiet orphan from the House of the Hearth. Raised by her predecessor Crucabena, Peruere followed in her footsteps and claimed to have felt a calling to priesthood. There was a beauty to it, the idea of a child giving back to the Church by bringing its followers closer to salvation. At least, that is how the public perceived her vocation.

♡ In truth, Peruere’s motivations were different. Shortly after her ordination, Crucabena disappeared under mysterious circumstances and her authority was passed on to Arlecchino. Immediately afterwards, she began to reform the Church and the House of the Hearth. She challenged the Church’s falsehoods, eliminated the other corrupt priests, and preached a more compassionate form of worship.

♡ Despite her efforts, however, scars run deep within the city. The children weren’t the only ones harmed by Crucabena; her influence spanned the entire Court of Fontaine, from religious schools to devout families. In the latter’s case, it can be difficult for Arlecchino to reach out to individuals and correct their beliefs. But some have taken to her like a moth to flame, actively seeking out her enlightenment. One such moth is you.

☾⋆｡ ๋

“Excuse me, Father!”

The Church is silent in the wake of mass. Footsteps and voices echo as believers depart to go on with their daily lives. The children are walking through the exit connected to the House of the Hearth, their solemn demeanors giving way to laughter. Only two people remain.

As always, you linger behind Arlecchino, head bowed.

“Ah, ______.” She turns around to face you. “Is something the matter?”

You look the same—shy expression, modest clothing, rosary in hand.

In a quiet voice, you tell her, “I am in need of your guidance. Yesterday, I…can we discuss this in your office? I’ll try to keep it short this time.”

“Ah, of course. Follow me.”

By now, it has become routine for you to approach Arlecchino after weekly mass. She leads you down a hallway and into her private office, her confident gait juxtaposed by your meek footsteps. A few words are whispered to a passing nun—orders to prepare your favorite tea and desserts.

In the meantime, she takes a seat on the sofa and gives you a polite smile.

“Go on. You have my undivided attention.”

☾⋆｡ ๋

♡ If Arlecchino’s trauma led to her disillusionment with the Church, then yours brought you “closer” to God. Technically, there is nothing wrong with your devotion—you pray daily, treat people with compassion, and derive a sense of solace from your religion. The harm lies in your blind faith, your total dependence on Arlecchino’s guidance.

♡ While you’ve accepted Arlecchino’s stance on religion, you still abide by Crucabena’s doctrine when it comes to your own religious life. You abstain from all vices. You repent for actions which barely count as sins. You are in a constant state of shame, guilt, paranoia, confusion. She can only imagine just how traumatic your meetings with Crucabena were.

♡ Still, you make for enjoyable company. It is common for Arlecchino to see you in the House of the Hearth bearing gifts for the children—and she can tell the difference between performances and your genuine acts of charity. When you aren’t confiding in her, you inquire about her hobbies, her favorite things, her life before priesthood. There is something so pitiful, so precious about your trust in her.

♡ Which is why Arlecchino is quick to notice a shift in your attitude. It begins with you sitting in the middle pews during mass, rather than your usual spot in the front row. During communion, you avoid eye contact and accept the wafer from her with trembling hands. There is a decrease in your private meetings. Fortunately, there is no need for her to investigate; rather, you provide the answer on a silver platter.

♡ Confessions are a wellspring of valuable information. Be it a direct admission or small details, such encounters have aided Arlecchino in punishing those who commit evil under the guise of virtue. Neither is it difficult for her to deduce one’s identity through their voice and mannerisms. So when she recognizes you beyond the screen, she wonders why you opted for the confessional rather than your usual face-to-face confessions with her.

☾⋆｡ ๋

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned. My last confession was one week ago.”

That is the first thing you tell her. From the center compartment, Arlecchino can imagine you doing the sign of the cross. The ritualistic gesture lends a short-lived grace to your movements, your hands honed by years of practice.

A pause. “Pardon my insolence but I must know: I am not speaking to Father Arlecchino, am I?”

Oh?

“You are not,” is her swift response, spoken in an altered voice. “And why do you ask? Does your confession concern the head priest?”

What secrets could you possibly be hiding from her?

She hears a hitched breath. “No! I just don’t want her to know. So please, what I’m about to tell you…don’t breathe a word of it to anyone else.”

“But of course. And what do you have to confess, my child?”

There is the sound of beads clicking together—your rosary, an old violet-and-black set designed by Crucabena. Arlecchino owned an identical one up until her death.

“These past years,” you whisper, “I have been consumed with carnal desires.”

She sits up straighter. “Desires?”

“It’s complicated,” you mutter. “There’s this person I’ve known for years, and I’ve always looked up to them as a fellow believer. Yet over time, I’ve been plagued with…impure thoughts of them. They captivate me. Their attention brings me joy and anxiety in equal parts. They haunt my thoughts in debauched fantasies. Yet we aren’t even married, much less lovers.”

Who are they?

A spider has taken up residence in a corner of the ceiling. It sits in the center of a silvery web, waiting for its prey.

She clears her throat. “And what is the matter with that? It is true that many view lust as a sin. But carnal desires are natural and not evil as to warrant eternal damnation.”

Silence. Most likely, you are mulling over what she just said; discernment isn’t your strong suit.

It’s just like you to fret over an ordinary crush. But who is this person that ensnared your heart? Do they know you as well as her?

Arlecchino continues speaking. “Moreover, no human is immune to temptation. From what you told me, it is clear that you have made active efforts to suppress your lust. So is it not possible for you to resist this so-called temptation, if not distance yourself from the object of your desire?”

“But how can I resist temptation when its very source lies in the Church?!”

Even Arlecchino is caught off-guard by your outburst. It is followed by your horrified gasp.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

Your next words are spoken in an even softer voice. “It’s Father Arlecchino. She is the one I desire.”

A fly buzzes through the latticed screen of the confessional. It briefly hovers around Arlecchino before she swats it away.

“Ah, now I understand.”

“She hasn’t done anything to me!” you add quickly. “I swear, it’s purely one-sided. And that is what distresses me most of all. She is a woman of God, dedicated to the salvation of His flock, yet here I am making a mockery of her righteousness.”

“And what do you see in her?”

“Where do I even begin? She’s kind. I know there are people who speak ill of her, claiming she preaches falsehoods, but I’ve witnessed her compassion with my own eyes. The orphans love her. The Church is warmer, more welcoming under her authority. And…”

The fly has taken a liking to the spiderweb. Spying its prospective prey, the spider begins its crawl towards the edge of the web.

You take a deep breath. “She knows of my religious struggles yet has never given me reason to fear her judgment. She is the one who helped me discern my vocation. She is the one who put a stop to my self-flagellation, even though that penance was assigned by Mother Crucabena. She is the one who has reassured me, time and time again, that I am worthy of God’s love. She…”

That is when you burst into tears.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the confessional are your choked sobs and rosary beads. Arlecchino herself remains silent but her thoughts are just as discordant.

Her gaze drifts to her necklace. It is a far cry from Crucabena’s rosary, a long chain from which hangs a silver cross adorned with ornate engravings and crimson jewels. When she presses down on a specific jewel, the pendant separates to reveal a hidden blade.

How long has it been since she struck Crucabena with that false symbol?

“I’ve tried so hard to be good,” you continue between sobs. “All my life, I’ve done my best to resist temptation and abide by the Church’s teachings. So why…? What I feel for Father Arlecchino—it’s disgusting, it’s not normal, it cannot be called love. But I…”

Your voice trails off. In her mind’s eye, Arlecchino sees you kneeling with your head bowed and your rosary looped around your clasped hands. If only she could wipe your tears.

“And I am truly sorry for all my sins,” you sniffle. “Now please, Father, what is my penance? If you tell me to distance myself from Father Arlecchino, then I will do so at once. If anything, I think she’d prefer it; I’ve wasted enough of her time.”

“Hush, my child,” she says sharply. Then, in a gentler tone, she adds, “Give me time to think.”

The fly is caught in the spider’s web. From her seat, Arlecchino watches as the spider bites down on the struggling insect and wraps it in silk, sealing its unfortunate fate.

Well, this was an unexpected answer, but not an unfortunate one.

In truth, she cares little about her vow of chastity. It is but a minor offense compared to those of her fellow priests. As for your attraction towards her, it doesn’t bother her at all. Her own sentiments require further reflection but for now…

“Why not put your desires to the test?”

There is the sound of beads hitting the floor. “Excuse me?”

In a calm voice, she explains, “There is nothing inherently sinful about falling in love with a priest. Rather, the fault should lie in the priest who cannot commit to their vow of chastity. But that, too, can be put into question—after all, nowhere in the religious texts is it explicitly stated that God demanded celibacy from His shepherds. It is for this reason that other denominations allow their priests to marry and procreate.”

“I see,” you mutter. “Though I doubt our Church would permit that anytime soon.”

“Who knows? As for the matter of your penance…like you said, it is impossible to escape the object of your desire. So why don’t you continue your usual interactions with Father Arlecchino? It will enable you to discern whether what you feel for her is truly lust or love. And should you ever confess your feelings to her, she will be the one to instruct you on what to do.”

“Is that all? Surely, there must be another—”

She cuts you off. “That is the only way. It is my belief that you need only desire something with sufficient intensity and God will answer. Or are you doubting my words as a priest?”

Your fearful “no!” puts an end to your confession. Thus, you recite your prayers and leave the confessional. After a while, Arlecchino makes a stealthy exit.

Just as she expected, you are still praying inside the Church. With your dried tears and tightly clasped hands, you make a perfect image of repentance.

Shaking her head, she walks down the hallway and into her office.

The tea table is empty. That will change tomorrow; she already has the perfect choice of desserts in mind. Cakes, tarts, macarons, all of your favorite treats.

The next day, an invitation is delivered to your doorstep. The envelope bears the official seal of the Church of Fontaine.

☾⋆｡ ๋

♡ Since then, Arlecchino has treated you differently. In the past, her religious counsel took the form of reassurances, open-ended questions, and reminders that only you can discern your own fate. But now she finds herself giving you more specific lessons and instructions. She invites you to more tea parties and private events in the House of the Hearth.

♡ She is also more…physical these days. During mass, she puts the communion wafer in your mouth, a gloved thumb brushing against your lip. On your walks to her office, she places her hand on your back, forcing you to match her pace. At one point, she even pulls you aside and tells you to disrobe so she can see if you are wearing your scapular properly. There is a moment of silence when your scars are exposed, followed by the warm sensation of her fingertips tracing your skin.

♡ However, it doesn’t take long for another issue to arise. One mass, Arlecchino notices that a certain individual has moved to the front pews to sit next to you. This continues for weeks, with him speaking to you before and after the service. You’re clearly uncomfortable around him, and it reaches the point that you mention it to Arlecchino during a tea party.

♡ Quietly, you explain that you are being harassed by one of your coworkers. For weeks, he has been bothering you at work, walking you home from mass, showing no signs of accepting your blatant rejections. Even worse, no one is taking your distress seriously due to his popularity within the Court of Fontaine. Normally, Arlecchino would be quick to eliminate him but she decides on another solution which would kill two birds with one stone.

♡ Her suggestion is that you stay in the Church for a few weeks. It is a convenient arrangement on both sides—the children are already familiar with you; the House of the Hearth has no shortage of rooms; and in the worst-case scenario, it can serve as a trial period for nunhood. In the past, Arlecchino did deem your personality fitting for a life of religious service, though you disagreed on the basis that you weren’t “worthy” of such an important role.

♡ It doesn’t take long for you to adjust. The House of the Hearth is quiet, secure, shielded from outside disturbances. The children are friendly to you, and they all agree that you’d fare well as their caretaker. Best of all, Arlecchino has more excuses to spend time with you—barbeque parties, walks along the sea, meetings with the other priests and nuns, nightly conversations in your room. It feels like home.

♡ One day, you are fitted into a nun’s habit. It looks perfect on you, with a few embellishments to suit your style preferences. Arlecchino personally helps you into the outfit, fixing the buttons and smoothing out imaginary creases. The final piece is a cross necklace identical to her own; she casually reveals the hidden blade and claims it is a self-defense mechanism. When you cast your gaze upon your shared reflection in the mirror, a flustered smile adorns your face.

♡ Still, you are undecided on your “true” vocation. Eventually, you decide to return to your job and think it over. Arlecchino personally escorts you to your house and insists that you keep your cross necklace, if only to replace your “missing” rosary. Once the front door is shut, she casts a harsh glare upon the figure across the street. Later, her children are assigned to keep watch over you and your stalker.

♡ For the next few days, all is well. Your daily life resumes. Arlecchino keeps a close eye on you through her children’s reports and her own inspections. After mass, the two of you enjoy another tea party, and you make no mention of your stalker. When the news reaches the city of an upcoming celestial phenomenon, you eagerly accept Arlecchino’s invitation for a viewing party.

♡ The crimson moon rises, bathing the world in a blood-red glow. While the children gaze at the moon, Arlecchino waits for you in front of the orphanage. Strange, punctuality is one of your virtues yet you’re late. Just as she is about to leave for your house, Freminet frantically approaches her and leads her to the Church.

♡ Red. It’s all over you, and not from the moonlight. The first thing Arlecchino sees is you curled up on the floor in a state of shock. In the heart of the Church lies a familiar figure—your stalker, writhing on the floor as blood pools from his chest. Lynette stands over him, ensuring that he won’t escape, while Lyney tries and fails to console you.

♡ All three of her children are wearing their crosses. Yours is on the floor, its blade exposed and tainted with blood. Lyney is the one who explains the situation to Arlecchino: They heard a commotion in the Church and by the time they arrived, you had driven your cross into your stalker’s heart. He had attacked you and paid the price.

♡ Calmly, Arlecchino tells Freminet to bring you to the orphanage. Once you are gone, she walks up to your stalker and stomps on his head, piercing his skull with her stiletto. Lyney and Lynette are told to dispose of the body, clean up the church, then return to the party. The crimson moon serves as a silent witness all throughout.

☾⋆｡ ๋

“Father, your face…”

As soon as he sees her, Freminet leaves your room and closes the door behind him.

“Freminet.” Arlecchino wipes the blood off her cheek. “That sinner has been dealt with. You may return to the party.”

“Oh? Okay.” He nods, casting a worried look at your door. As he walks down the hallway, one of his hands comes up to touch his cross pendant.

With that, Arlecchino enters your room.

Even in your change of clothes, your visage is painted crimson by the moonlight. Your body is slumped against the bed, knees on the floor. No sounds leave your lips save for short breaths. Tiny crescents mar your arms—a coping mechanism or an attempt at penance?

Wordlessly, she sits next to you and pats your head with a gloved hand.

“Father.” You are the one to break the silence. “What just…”

“That man is dead.” She says it plainly, her tone void of judgment. “He won’t be able to torment you any longer.”

You immediately look up, eyes glossy. “Are you sure?! Did I…?”

In the blood-red moonlight, your anguish is clear as day. Your hands tremble, nails digging into the mattress, before clasping together in a graceless effort to steel yourself. But the familiar gesture does little to calm you, all prayers futile in the wake of your sin.

“This is it. I’m really going to burn in Hell,” you sob. “I didn’t mean to—what should I do, Father?”

This time, Arlecchino spares no warmth in consoling you. She adjusts your body so that your head rests on her lap, letting your tears drip onto her cassock. Her hand remains on the back of your head, stroking your hair.

“There is no need to fret,” she says gently. “Before the moon sets, the Church will be purged of that man’s filth and it will be as though he never appeared tonight.”

You shake your head. “Even then, you…God knows what I have done.”

“Listen to me.” She tilts your face upwards, her expression firm. “All you did was use your cross necklace for its intended purpose—to save yourself from harm. And yet even in the face of evil, you claim to be the one who sinned. None of this is your fault, ______.”

Her other hand caresses your cheek, wiping away your tears.

“Perhaps it is all part of God’s plan,” she muses. As she speaks, she kneels to your level and holds your hands, intertwining your fingers. “We live in a cruel world and it is only in places such as my Church that safety can be promised. Should you take the veil, no other sinners would dare to violate your virtue.”

Your next words are soft, hesitant, filled with disbelief. “Are you saying that I can still become a nun?! That you…you don’t mind keeping me around?”

“And for what reason would I deny you sanctuary?” she asks, her expression shifting to a frown. “As a priest, it is my duty to shepherd God’s flock. And as a person, it is my desire to protect those I cherish. Everything I do is for your own good.”

For once, you are rendered speechless. All you can do is stare at your lap, at your hands clasped together.

When Arlecchino leans towards you, her grip prevents you from drawing back.

“All you must do is listen to me,” she whispers. “Until our mortal deaths, I will be the one to lead you away from true temptation and deliver you from evil. Does it seem agreeable to you?”

“I…I guess so,” you whimper. Nervously, you meet her gaze, your eyes alight with a glimmer of hope. “If it’s you, I can believe it.”

“Good. And remember this always, ______.”

The crimson moon shines brightly, casting a blood-red halo around your savior. And as Arlecchino pulls you closer, your lips a breath away from a kiss, a secret is divulged with the fervence of a sacred prayer.

“God still loves you. As do I.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Pantalone

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics who are not listed in my masterlist.

…Don’t ask me how many times I broke down over Priest! Arlecchino. Just don’t. To all of the Arle simps out there, I hope I did your wife justice. And may you all suffer from brainrot bc I refuse to be the only one in pain (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

Lastly, lots of love to @diodellet for beta-reading this fic and my mutuals for indulging my brainrot. I hope this was worth the wait <3

Tag an Arlecchino enjoyer!! @navxry @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @ainescribe @vennnnn-diagram @stickyspeckledlight @harmonysanreads @ddarker-dreams

#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #yandere fatui harbingers #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: death #tw: stalking #tw: abuse #g/n reader #mdni #jessamine-writing

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ur-mousey · 6 months

Text

Time Moves ~

Yandere! God! True Form! Sukuna x Disciple! F!Reader! Prt 1.

Part two

summary Sukuna demands attention from his out of breath disciple for leaving him alone. 2.2k warning mature, smut, possessive themes, mentions of bondage/imprisonment, pussy-eating, dub-con.

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

A god lies and waits, practically neglected. His legs are spread, his head rested on his hand, and that elbow dug into his thigh. These trips of hers get longer and longer, he thought to himself. He fought the urge to resist stroking his red-tipped hard-on. His other three arms found purchase somewhere on his hips. With other disciples, he didn't care for their comings and goings. He could easily find solace buried in another cunt.

His little pet, however, he needed to hold her down by a leash. Maybe it's because she's the only one at his side.

Sukuna, the God of Curses, was the first to cultivate spite, revenge, and war against the human race. But, he was needed more whenever your hands were held in a prayer nowadays. He was aware that the town below held wavering faith in his powers. Their earlier malice for other tribes settled throughout the centuries. And it is true that as a God, he has been weakened due to this time of peace.

It disgusted him to no end.

The smoke below was no longer a symbol of families' homes ravished by flames or hunkered-down soldiers. But, of baked goods warming in the oven.

You had begged for months to see the village below. The ghost of Sukuna's name from your lips weighted his balls with cum for you to drink. You gave kitten licks to his head, coaxing his pre-cum to splash the tip of your tongue. You earned your right to venture and partake in the new year markets below. Obedient to his demands despite how absurd.

Once a year, he had promised. And a god can lie.

The first year, you had left and came with a bounty of sweets. Most of which you had forgotten existed: sweet red bean buns, daifuku, green tea cookies. And a plethora more that Sukuna had cared less for. He scolded you for the lack of satiating meat in your haul. "Then you go," you whispered into his ear with a sharpness that bit.

"If only I could go without lifting a leg," Sukuna waved off.

That time, you sank to your knees, looking up at him. "My God! What is it that you want to try first? A sweet bun?"

So he took his favorite dessert. Your first year out of his sight bared its weight on your thighs. He discarded the bought goods across the floor. You had been gone merely three hours. However, Sukuna could not lift his head from your heat. Your saltiness kept his tongue pushed deep into her sopping hole.

Your feeble arms pushed against Sukuna, who has strapped you down at your waist. He knew that you were crying profusely. He wanted you to break down more upon his tongue.

Your nails drew blood from his shoulder blades as he held your legs wide. You had struggled to kick out at his thighs. Now, they twitched at the bite of his teeth on your clit. Sukuna would have chuckled at the pleas you made to unlock your neck. But, the collar that secured you to the floor fit you so snug. You were his perfect pet.

He sucked in between your flesh, tasting you over and over again to never forget that you were perfectly made for his sinful desires.

He overreacted. Ten days were spent in his personal heaven. And Sukuna couldn't tell if she enjoyed it herself.

>>>

Your salvation is at the top of the mountain where your God resides. At least, that's what you had told yourself at the base of those stone steps.

When you were staring up into the endless sky. When you could feel the trees wave and the birds sing blessings upon your journey. Now, all within your heart was the sound of ringing, the pumping of blood which aided in the spasm of your muscles. How much longer?

You thought you hated making the trip down in fear of toppling over, but it was the climb up that made you appreciate the respite of the poor village. It felt more humane talking to the workers below than doing endless cardio.

But days like these were rare. The villagers do not recognize you anymore, nor do you recognize them. Every day spent in the village are new faces and you are just a humble stranger. You doubt that whatever family you had left out there would know it is you.

Time moves differently on the mountain.

Your body felt like it would fall apart at the seams. Your bag was filled to the brim with food: savory meats, dried jerky, and sweets galore. You looked at the upcoming archway that marked the journey as being a third over with. The pillars hold familiarity fore this was as far as your God allowed you to step off of the immediate property. You can see the works of your crafted talisman plastered on every vertical surface. It’s maddening. Black ink smeared upon crimson parchment. Sukuna had glared at your work but he shrugged and let you be. That was long ago when humans gathered for his harem. You were the only left.

You knew that your God lied to you. Yearly visits to the mortal world easily showed you that more time has gone by. Today, a girl named Yumi worked at your favorite stall selling pastry goods. But the year before, it was the newly wedded Hiragashi couple. You remembered the young wife brimming with light, belly round and ready to pop. And you remembered how the husband begged his wife to sit while he handled the bustling night market. When you asked about the two, Yumi sighed, "They are my parents."

Hiragashi Yumi was that baby yet to be born, now she stood before you in her twenties. Her parents are significantly older when you're not.

Time moves differently on the mountain.

What were you to do? Your God wouldn't want to hear any of your plight. You doubt that this is a matter he would allow you to fight for.

He'd taunt you. He'd ask if it even matters when at the end of the day, you got to take the excursion. But, it terrifies you that you cannot tell the difference between a year and twenty.

You had to let it go.

You had taken the moment to set down your bag. The pillar felt like stone against your forehead. It was obviously made out of stone and the realization slammed into your pounding head. It's hard and grainy like time. You realized there were no memories before you laid eyes on your God. You try to calm your breath. Did you even have a family or a childhood? When did life begin for you? Will your life ever end or will it be determined by your God?

Vines coiled up the stone pillar, its leaves brushed against your flushed cheeks. You watched them grow each day. Water droplets slid from them to you, on you cheek. A cause from the earlier drizzle, you presume. It made you wonder if it was safe to cry. After speaking to Yumi, you admitted that you wanted nothing more than the comfort of home. Despite knowing better, there is nothing for you outside of the arms of your God.

"Pet, why the long face." Your body went rigid and you shot your head up the path. The moon shows half its face to the world. And like the moon, your God sat encased primarily in shadows. His eyes showed bright vermillion.

"My God, why have you come this far from the shrine?" You panted through the coils in your chest. You quickly gathered yourself to the best of your abilities. First, you start by kicking off your hard-to-walk-in sandals. Then you shimmed your hair from its tight bun, allowing the terraces to flow. The black rose pin that held the style together, you placed behind your ear. Lastly, you make work of the kimono. You had pestered your God to help tuck and tie to perfection. Now, it’s folded fabric that you set on top of your traveling pack.

You stood straight to be beheld. "Here, I bare myself to you." You do not own undergarments, you don't remember a time in which you would have. You bowed till you were sure that your whole body felt flatted into the mountain's steps. "My God."

"Come," Your God beckoned. "Drop the God."

"Yes Sukuna," You huffed out. "Shall I bring you any food or dessert? The night market was more lively than the last! I could hardly handle the long lines. And I thought we would have more fun watching the fireworks from within the courtyard."

"Quit yapping and come. I couldn't care less for mortal foods."

You make your ascent up the remaining steps separating you two. "Aw, I guess that I'm the only mortal food you'll eat." You let out a giggle through the racing questions. "I hope that you know that you are getting my stuff from below, it has been quite tedious for this mortal to make it this far."

Sukuna looked up into your eyes. You have made it in between his parted legs. You swayed there for a little bit before assuming your kneeling position. Your finger grazed Sukuna's hair before using his shoulder to brace your knees when hitting the slab below. Back straight. Bum placed directly over heel. And, your hands cling to each elbow behind your back in a straight line. "Bold to order me around."

"It was a suggestion."

"A hell of one." Sukuna placed his finger under your lips "Your chin should be lifted. Do you need a reminder? And where should your eyes be?"

"Retraining won’t be necessary." You lifted your chest higher to prove the point as you focused on Sukuna's manhood. His white robe left little to the imagination especially since he never ties it properly. His tattoos frame his sculpted abs and draw the eyes to his glorious v-line. And it's only if you don't do a double take of the smirking mouth protruding from the middle of his stomach. You are used to it and you have been more than aquatinted to how perverted it makes you feel.

"The long face, pet?" Your nickname was held off long enough to feel somewhat like an afterthought or an attack on your ego.

You sighed, "At the market... This girl I met was twenty, but when I met her last year, she wasn't born yet. I had talked to her parents."

You dared look up into Sukuna's four eyes, searching from one to the other which all stared back at you. "Oh pet, are you mad?"

"Should I be?"

"Why no, pet," Sukuna whispered. He bowed his head to rest his forehead against yours, coated in a film of sweat. "I could make you forget the thoughts running in your dumb head. You are a pet that only needs to know of her master." He scraped a finger behind your ear, taking the black rose pin and with his other hand, he swept your hair back to his liking. "But, if you are mad, I will allow you to pierce me with this. Hold out your hand."

You did as told. Now the metallic warmth of the pin weighed heavy on your conscious. "I don't wish to hurt you. And if I do this, you'll punish me."

"I lied. Pierce me for all I care. You are mad like me.” His blazed eyes hunger for the fear in yours “Your punishment will be a light one."

You shook your head, "No! No no no. I want to let this go! Let's enjoy the food and the fireworks. Please!" Before you could yank your arm away, your God gripped tight enough to bruise. With full awareness, you watched as Sukuna used your hand to shove the pin repeatedly into his chest.

At first, the skin doesn't break. Your hand throbbed from the forced handle you had to take. Your arms ached all over as you tried pulling away from the slashing. Screaming felt foreign but not unheard of coming from your throat. Moments like theses caused your mind to wonder. Were those cries even yours or someone else's? A spectator could be in the woods regarding the nakedness of your skin.

They could be the one screaming. The spectator has front-row seats to view the enormous stomach mouth gulp down blood. Or they were the one fighting, not you, to get away from Your God.

"Su-uuh kuna! Wh- why, why! Why are you doing this!?" You bellowed through gritted teeth, smacking against his chest.

"What did I even do wrong?" You felt the crash of your lungs. You felt the heaviness of your knees losing balance on the pavement which caused you to smack into Sukuna's right thigh. Your face felt hot. "I can't be mad! I don't have the right!" You shook your head, whipping hair everywhere. Snot ran down to your lips as you kept screaming. "I don't care if you lied! Why should I! I'm nothing more than a pet who would be nothing without their god!"

Sukuna squeezed your hand as he pushed the sharp pin in one last time before ripping your arms away. You fell backwards. catching yourself on the step below you. Your main find at last year's market, the black rose pin, looked dimmed when coated in blood. It stuck out of your God's chest where it rises and falls to the normal beat of his lungs. Whatever compelled you to buy the article of jewelry made you gag into your hands.

"Pet, I hate these excursions of yours. You know that."

.............................. Thank you for reading! This is my first attempt on making a smut! There will be a part two because I wanted to get this out on new years day! Please leave ideas in the comments! Request rules are here! I have an idea of where I want part two to go, but there is always room to stir the pot. HAPPY NEW YEARS!!! (technically a day late)

>>>

NEXT JJK POST: Yandere! Landlord! Geto Suguru x F!Reader

#sukuna smut #yandere sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #sukuna x reader #male yandere x reader #smut #smut fic #dom/pet #female reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen

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sky-kiss · 6 months

Text

The House Always Wins

On the sixth day of any third tenday, you were liable to find god and the devil taking tea in Sharess’ taproom. An overstatement, perhaps, but dramatics suited both parties particularly well. In truth, you would find Raphael, a cambion. Seated across from him, the deva. The creature had never provided a name, and he’d never bothered to ask. They were his pretty bird; what else could matter?

“You’re quiet today,” they say, leaning back in their seat. Flame-colored hair spills over their shoulders, nearly to the waist. Raphael quite likes it. He thinks, with no small amount of frequency, how wonderfully their head would match the decor in his House. Over the mantle, perhaps? Or in the Boudoir. He remains undecided. “Are you dying?”

“You wound me,” Raphael replies, moving a piece on the lanceboard. The deva plays an achingly conservative game. It’s the position Raphael prefers to occupy, preferring defensive to outright aggression. But the little shit has tucked their Cyric safely away behind a wall of troops. How very suited to the Heavens. Isolationist, tedious, stagnant. “Is death truly the only cause for silence? I might be contemplative.”

“You contemplate loudly. You do everything loudly, devil. And with a hundred words where ten might serve.” They move a piece back, ceding the center of the board. The solar glares at the board, taking an arch sip from their tea. “Why are we still playing this damned game?”

“I like it. You always lose.” Raphael folded his hands low on his belly. “And I do love watching you celestials squirm.”

The pretty bird scoffs, tossing their head. Still, they tip over their king gamely enough, holding their hands up in surrender.

Raphael sets the board again, knowing full well they won’t play. It’s a practiced dance, centuries old at this point. They are here on business, this celestial emissary and their infernal counterpart, and their business is…

…less than savory. They speak on the only currency that matters: souls—the solar, tied to the heavens and salvation; the cambion to the hells and damnation. Raphael holds up his glass in salute.

His voice is entirely fond, the respect genuine. They are, simultaneously, the oldest of friends and the most pitched of enemies. He says, “Every day, the city turns its cheek a little further from your light. Another month, another year, and they will be cast entirely in my shadow.”

The solar waves him off. “The mortals shift like the tide. Today, they wash up on your shores. Tomorrow?” They shrug. “Tomorrow, they might wash up on mine.”

“How delightfully naive.”

They chuckle, shrugging. The air around them shimmers and brightens, tinged with citrus and floral notes. Bright, as they have always been. “You need these wins, half-blood. What other bright spots do you have in your miserable Infernal Life?”

“To me, then, pretty bird. Inferna victoria.”

“To you, you miserable devil.”

It is an epithet Raphael wears all too gladly. The Heavens see him for what he is, even if the Hells will not.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #angel x devil #kind of?#Raphael just drinks coffee with some celestial weirdo #I had an urge #my fic

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blueink01 · 3 months

Text

Ch. 5: Radio Killed the Video Star

The next day at Hazbin Hotel-

Charlie Is pacing back and forth in panic mode with Keekee walking alongside her owner.

"Okay. So the extermination is coming in six months instead of a year. No big deal. Just a little setback. Nothing we can't handle. Just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right?!" Charlie starts to panic, "And next time when they cut the time in half again, and again, we'll just handle it, right?!"

Vaggie grabs Charlie, calming her down, "Yes. We will."

"This is nothing more than a minor set back." Yn added as she rubs her head, calming her down.

"Oh, please, ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now..." Angel Dust's phone vibrates with violent threating messages such as 'fucking bitch', "Ain't no silver lining this time toots."

"Angel...Come on.. There's always a bright side!" Yn smiled as her phone vibrated with panickeing messages from IMP. "There's..always hope."

The messages on Yn's phone:

Blitz❤️: "Lovey, have you heard to news!?!"

M&M: "Sweety are you okay?! me and Moxxie have been trying to contact you?!"

Tweety Bird👑🪶💙: "Yn when will you come and visit me?, I've been feeling lonely here~"

Big Daddy Ozzie: "Yn by any chance have you seen Felix's favorite earrings?"

+15 More Messages Etc.

"Yn is right! We just...have to look a little harder for it!" Charlie smiled widely.

"Well, while you're lookin', the rest'a hell's goin' nuts." Angel waves his phone in their faces, "People are already freakin' out about the news. Look at what's happenin' in the Doomsday District."

He scrolls down an article with the bottom showing a demon screaming in front of a fire. Suddenly a pink message appears. Charlie gets closer to read it.

"Err, what is a. Donkey Show?" Charlie question.

Angel panics and retreats the phone back, "Aah, heh, nothin'. My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losin' their shit." Angel Dust laughs nervously.

"Yeah, that's true. Sinners are desperate." Vaggie stated.

"Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the extermination?" Yn smirked.

Charlie gasps, "This is the perfect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!" Charlie squeals.

"Cute idea and all, but you really gonna go out in all of this?" Angel Dust waves the phone with the place still on fire and demons in panic.

"Well, it's not like people are just gonna show up on our doorstep..." Yn texted on her phone as she smirked.

Suddenly, a massive explosion made Charlie scream in a fight from behind, getting their attention. They turn to see a freshly made hole in the wall.

"What the what?!" Yn shouted.

Outside the hotel Sir Pentious him and his Egg Boiz zeppelin armed for battle.

"Show yourself Alasssstor." Pentious slithers.

"Come and face..." Pentious pauses for a moment when he notices Alastor absent from the freshly made hole. He then looks to see him sipping coffee on the balcony of the second floor.

"Oh there you are. Face my wrath!" Pentious exclaims.

Alastor sips his tea, "Who are you?"

"Who am I? Who am I?! I am the great Ssssssir Pentiousssss!" Alastor dissolves into fog as he descends to the ground, materializing aside Yn, Angel, Vaggie, and Charlie who are in the scene watching Sir Pentious's zeppelin.

"Inventor, architect of destruction, villain extraordinaire!" Pentious smirked.

"Ooh you tell 'em boss." The eggs bois cheered on.

Niffty appears on Yn's right shoulder, clearly starstruck, "Ooooooh, he's a bad boy.." Niffty smirks.

Yn pats Niffty's head as Niffty smiles widely and seems so free.

"Ha, well if all that's true, you'd think I'd have heard of you." Alastor crossed his arms.

"I attacked you literally last week." Pentious blankly stated.

Alastor cocks his head, "We've done battle, like... 20 times...once while you were on a date with-" Pentious looked at Yn as his whole demeanor changed, "HI QUEENIE!!!!" Yn wave back.

Charlie and Vaggie looked at her with a confused expression and then change their expression again looking back at Pentious.

"Well, you must have been really bad at this." Alastor noted as his blood slowly boiled due to how Pentious was speaking to Yn.

Sir Pentious' went back to his usual demeanor, "Silence! Now cower! For when I've ssslain you, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal."

Niffty picked up from Yn's shoulder, "Ooh! Wait, who are the Vees?"

"Oh, nobody important." Alastor smirks. Yn nodded her head in agreement.

Vee's Headquarters-

A large crowd is in front of a store as they watch an advertisement on the tvs facing the window showing off a spy drone.

"New VoxTek designer voyeur scopes, Peeping on the neighbors has never been more stylish. VoxTek! Trust us with your money!"

Crowd immediately enters the store and stampedes out with boxes with voyeur scopes. then cuts to random people watching their computers laptops and phones, and reveals their eyes signifying the work of hypnosis.

"This week's episode of "Teah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?" is brought to you by VoxTek. Trust us with your entertarment!"

A tv demon starts tapping his fingers in a large room with tvs showing off numerous consumers as "trust us" repeats and overlaps. electricity courses as Vox stands up from his chair laughing maniacally from his viewer's consumerism. Vox had a ring around his left ring finger, it had both a sun and moon engraved on it.

"Muhahaha! Now that's good television!" Vox laughed as he heard his phone ding, he checked it as he groaned.

Suddenly his screen-face shifts to reveal an icon of Velvette, another one of them Vees, signifying she's calling, with a clown horn ringtone. Vox puts his phone down. Vox courses the call from his screen to his hands via his electric powers and transfers it to one of his many screens to reveal Velvette in her studio, her hair into a large ponytail. Vox then sits down on his chair.

"Hello there, Velvette! How are you this hellish morning?" Vox crossed his legs.

<Oh, cut the shit, Vox. I need you up here now!> Velvette exclaimed.

Vox looks to one of his screens as he gets his coffee cup and drinks from it, "Whatever could be the problem, my dear?".

<Your little boy toy is wrecking my apartment, while I'm trying to pull together a show and...> Velvette pauses.

Off-screen we see several workers running and screaming, and objects being tossed, as Valentino is heard cussing. "FUCKING BITCH!"

<Just get your ass here! NOW! Damn it Valentino!> Velvette yelled.

The call ends, and Vox's smile fades away as he gets up, sighing, fixing up his bowtie. He quickly texted on his phone before shoving the phone into his pocket.

"Oh god. Here I go, Valentino. Just another fucking day with Val." Vox walked to a platform with a forced smile, "Hey hey hey. Fuck my life." Vox had a dead expression as the platform raised up.

An elevator with a smiling Vox with the world bubble saying trust us!', before opening to reveal a frowning Vox sighing, and putting on a smile for a crowd of reporters that overlap one another before pointing their microphones to him.

"Mr. Vox! What are your thoughts about the new extermination deadline?" A reporter asked.

"When is Yn coming back on the program? People miss her fashion show & competitions!" Another reporter asked.

"My dear people! We at VoxTek Enterprises have always been at the forefront of innovation. And now, with this new oncoming threat, we are shifting our focus, to your protection. We are pleased to announce..." Vox ignored the second question, answering the first.

The screen zooms to him and an ad featuring the VoxTek logo, now gold and with angelic wings, with the tagline reading.

"VoxTek Angelic Security is coming soon! Trust us, with YOUR safety." Vox forced a smile.

Vox uses his left eye to hypnotize the crowd the same way as his consumers. Vox's manager quickly rushed up to Vox.

"Uh sir, when did we begin working on Angelic Security?" The Manager asked in a soft voice.

"30 seconds ago." Vox speaks in a strained voice as he walks off, "Try to get that bitch Carmilla on the books and cancel all my appointments today. I have a fire to put out upstairs." Vox noted.

He then morphs his body into electricity and generates itself into the security camera on the wall.

Velvette's Studio-

The staff cleans everything up as she looks to four designers holding up dresses to show her.

"Ugh. No. Unacceptable. You're fired. What is this? WRIST RUFFLES?! Is this 1750?! Burn it like the witches who wore it!" Velvette groaned, "UGH I miss babycakes.. She was the best fucking designer I ever had." Velvette rolled her eyes.

As she sends the designer away, Vox appears next to her, "Velvette! I can see you're busy. Tell me, where's our hot headed friend now.?" Vox looked around.

"Up in his room, waiting for a flat-faced prince to calm him down!" Velvette noted.

Vox sighs, "And uh, what's got him so out of sorts today?"

"Who knows?! But he tore up my second best model! And you know, the show can't wait for that unlucky bitch to pull herself back together! Melissa! Get over here!" Velvette yells.

Melissa gets onto the platform, and Velvette uses her overlord powers to change her outfit one after another until she spots the one she wants. "No. No. Hideous. I want to die. Eww." Velvette gasps, "Yes! That's the one."

"Ahh, looks like you have everything under control here." Vox noted.

"Of course, I do! Fuck you!" Velvette flips him off, "Now shoo! Take care of the piss baby!" Vox goes upstairs and is greeted by two moth demons who open the door for him. Once he enters.

He finds Valentino sitting on his couch surrounded by a fog of red smoke. When Val notices Vox, he sits up with fury in his eyes.

"Fucking FINALLY!" Val throws his drink, "Kitty! Another drink!" The Robo Fizzie next to him nods as it quickly heads off screen and reappears with the drink.

"Ugh! Can you believe what that piece of shit did? THE UNGRATEFUL WHORE!!!" As he speaks, he tosses the drink at Vox, who moves away making the drink, hits the door, and shatters on the floor.

"Uh, which whore are we talking about this time?" Vox questioned, crossing his arms.

Valentino gets up, "Fucking Angel Dust!” He walks up to Vox, "Who the hell else would I be talking about?!.." Val walks past him, "..fucking SLUT walked out on me!" He turns to Vox, "ME! I fucking made him!" Vox walks a little way away, "Without me, he's just a bag of meat with some mildly entertaining holes."

"Oh! Angel quit?" Vox sounded surprised.

"NO! He didn't fucking quit! It's worse!" Val takes Vox's phone, "He MOVED!!!"

As he says that, he tosses Vox's phone to the wall making it shatter in half. Vox seemed pissed about that, that being his only communication to his girl.

"He thinks he can just walk in here, work, and then go home somewhere else? Can you FUCKING believe that?!?!?!?!" Val walks to the closet, "He thinks he can run off and shack up with Lucifer's BIMBO daughter!"

"Angel is living with Lucifer's daughter?.." Vox paused and smirked.

"YEAH! That BITCH Chuckie or Chandler, or I dunno. Something manish like that, she's got this hotel and..." Val stopped.

As he speaks, he opens the closet full of guns, drugs, and pictures including a poster of himself. Valentino brings up two long pistol guns: a long revolver and a semi-pistol.

"Which of these makes me look sexier?" Val turns to the closet. (The pink one obviously)

"Heh. What are you doing, Val? You're not going over there." As Vox speaks, his left eye starts its hypnotizing spell, but Valentino is busy loading his guns.

"That slippery twink is gonna remember who owns him. I'm gonna FUCK everyone *except Yn* in that rancid shit hole, I swear to god!" Val starts.

Before he finishes, Vox grabs him by the collar and shoves him to his face, clearly furious.

Vox's voice was distorted, "VAL..." He calms down, "Hehe. Think about it." Vox then walks Valentino towards the window, taking one of his guns, "Our brand is... perfection. And what do you think chasing whores around town will... do for our image?"

"Um....fuck it up?" Val replied.

"Right! Do you want people thinking you can't control your employees?" Vox questioned.

"No!" Val exclaimed.

"Exactly! And hey, you still have him under contract. He isn't going anywhere! SO.. you should.." Vox waited for Val to get it.

"Do nothing?" Val questioned.

Vox smirked, "Great idea! Now that's why they pay you the.." He pinches Val's cheek on his face, "Big bucks."

"Ugh. But I really wanted to shoot someone." Val whined.

As he speaks, Valentino gets a cigarette holder, and Vox lights it with his electricity powers.

"Well, lemme call up the lowest earners this month." Vox walks to TVs.

"Ohh, you know me too well." Val chuckles and blows smoke, "Ya know.... Angel isn't the only one spending time at this Ratty Hotel with the devil's princesa..." Val smirked.

"Oh? Who else is there? Someone who, owes you money?" Vox smirked.

Valentino chuckles, "Someone who owes us much more than money and someone very dear to us... the Radio Demon and babycakes is there..." Val smirked.

Upon hearing those words, electricity courses through Vox's head, and he scratches the desk so hard it leaves scratch marks. Vox made small ominous chuckles before turning to Valentino, two red lines appearing on the left side of his lower lip.

Vox's voice was distorted, "What did you just say?"

"You heard me." Val smirked.

"Alastor.." Vox walks to Val, "came back..and he is with Lucifer's..." Vox glitches, "..daughter and and not only that, but he's with our Yn? And that wasn't the..." He grabs Val by the collar, "FIRST FUCKING THING YOU TOLD ME?!!"

Valentino frees himself from grip, "Hey! killing Alastor is your kink and Yn existence is all of our kink."

As he speaks, he walks to the desk and turns on the television. Vox teleports to the center screen, which is a recording from a VoxTek Voyer scope.

From Drone POV-

Yn chuckles softly and Alastor using his powers to attack Sir Pentious zeppelin, laughing as he hears Pentious screaming.

"Arrgh! Oh! Please! Stop!" Pentious cries.

"Um...Alastor! I think he's had enough." Charlie noted.

"Nah. He's got a few more hits in him." Angel added. As much as it was entertaining, Yn whispered in Alastor ear, "I think he's had enough Al." He looks at her than back to Sir Pentious who falls from the zeppelin in front of Alastor, face first on the ground. Alastor twirls his staff.

"Thanks for another forgettable experience." Alastor smirked.

An Egg Boi falls and breaks into pieces in front of Charlie.

"Thank you... for letting your guard down!" Using his tail, he grabs a bit of Alastor's suit, "Haha! Yah! Oh, shit..." Pentious' eyes widened.

"That was a mistake little snake~" Yn warned. Sir Pentious looks up to see Alastor's shadow transform in front of him. The next shot shows a massive green explosion as Sir Pentious is seen flying off to the city screaming as he disappeared from sight.

"Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor! Would you care to join me my dear Yn?" Alastor asked extended his hand to her.

"Of course and maybe we can get some tea." Yn takes his hand, "Best of luck, chums." Alastor waved. as he holds Yn's hand.

"Wait, you're LEAVING?! Alastor! We need your help! We need you to do your job." Vaggie yelled.

Angel Dust gestures to the hole on the wall, "We need a wall."

Alastor sighed, "Of course! Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?!" With a snap of his fingers, black ink demons appear with construction tools as Alastor walks away. Angel takes an interest and looks at one of the larger muscular demons, shoving Vaggie away as he walks up to him.

Angel Dust giggles, "Hey, sweet cheeks. Whatcha doin' later? I love me a man with a giant...tool."

The screen zooms out to reveal Valentino scowling at the current events, leaning his face against the screen.

"See?! Look how he flirts with that guy, and he's not even paying! Who is that? I'm gonna fucking kill his whole fucking family while fucking Yn in front of them! Vox?" Val slams his fist on the table, "VOX!?"

Vox was paying little attention, as his left pupil turns into a tilde as he eyes Alastor leaving, his appearance static and out of focus as the screen becomes a bit static. He glitched rapidly at seeing Yn with Alastor.

Vox glitches, "That FUCKER is back! AND HE'S WITH YN?!"

Valentino grins as he realizes the situation and walks to him, "Yeah! I thought he was gone for good too!"

"It's been 7 years!" Vox clenched his fist.

Valentino leans up to him and pinches his cheek, Vox clearly pissed to care.

"You still pissed that she almost beat you and "took" Yn from us that time?" Val smirked.

Vox grumbled, "Uh, FUCK YOU."

"Just saying." Val walks around him.

"Things have changed a lot since he left town!" Vox clenched his fist, "THAT'S for sure." Val smirked.

"I gotta send a message of who's REALLY in charge of things now!" Vox's face fills the screen as Valentino laughs in the background.

Vox grins as he marches to his chair.

"~Welcome home! I'm gonna make you wish that you stayed gone!~" As Vox sang, electricity courses through his arm as he sat down, and turns to face the numerous screens.

"~Say hello to a new status quo.~" Vox presses a button, and cords latch themselves to the plug-ins on the back of his head, connecting himself with the tv networks. "~Everyone knows that there's a brand, new daren, turn the TV ON!~"

"Camera, speeds, rolling in three, two..." The director counted down.

Chorus: "Welcome to the Show!"

"~Top of the hour and we're discussing a certain had-been who has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven-year absence.~" Vox had a horrible drawing of Alastor as he snapped to be on a night-late tv show with himself.

"~Did anybody miss him, did anybody notice? More on tonight's program. So, the Radio Demon is back in town! Why is he hanging around? What does that mean for your family? Well, handily, I've got good news!~" Vox appeared in front of a red curtain now.

"~He's a loser, a fossil, and I don't mean to sound hostile~" Vox now appeared on multiple TV's and each dressed like a gospel choir. With the words 'Obey N' Pray'.

"~But the demon is a coward! You can take that as gospel. Pulling my viewers? Impossible! I'm visual, he's barely audible! Stop giving him the time of day! Don't listen to a word he'd say. Hope he had a nice vacay! But he should have stayed away!~"

While Alastor finishes getting his coat tailored. He notices the crowd watching the advertisement of Vox. Yn noticed as well as she frowned a bit, Alastor noticing this. He smiles and walks away with an idea, pulling Yn along. as Vox continues singing.

"~While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video! *pulls out a deer head* And now his medium is getting bloody rare! Hell's been better since he split. Where's he been? Who gives a shit?!~"

Guts to Alastor making his reappearance, as he starts his radio broadcast from the Hazbin Hotel as he puts YN on his lap.

"~Salutations! Good to be back on the air. Yes, I know it's been a while since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!~"

"~What a dated voice!~"

"~Instead of a clout chasing mediocre video podcast.~"

"COME ON!" Vox exclaimed as he paused hearing Yn's laugh, "YOU FUCKER..."

"~Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that. Is nothing working?~"

"IGNORE HIS CHIRPING!" Vox yelled.

"~Every day he's got a nere format!~"

"YOU'RE LOOKING AT THE FUTURE! HE'S THE SHIT THAT COMES BEFORE THAT!~" Vox exclaimed.

"~Is Vox as strong as he purports.? Or is it based on his support? He'd be powerless without the other Vees!~"

"Oh, PLEASE." Vox crossed his arms.

"~And here's the sugar on the cream. He asked ME to join this team!~"

Vox grumbled, "Hold on!"

"~I said no, and now he's pissy! That's the tea.~" As Alastor continued with his radio broadcast, Vox was getting so pissed that his screen face was starting to glitch with anger rising.

"~You old timey *Glitches* PRICK! I'll show you suffering!~"

"~Uh oh, the TV is buffering!~" Vox couldn't handle his anger, causing him to overload his circuits with static electricity.

"~I'LL DESTROY *Signal breaking up* Y0000U LITTLE.....~" The camera head could not get anything loaded, and Vox lets out an outburst that overloads everything from the TV screens to Valentino and Velvette's phone to everywhere in Pentagram City, causing a citywide blackout with the exception of the Hazbin Hotel.

"~I'm afraid you've lost your signal. Let's begin.~" Alastor smirked as he slowly turned into his true demon form with every sentence. His arms wrapping around Yn.

"~I'm gonna make you wish that I stayed gone! Tune on in. When I'm done, your status quo will know it's race is run! Oh, this will be fun!~" Alastor makes one last evil laugh before cutting off Vox's signal throughout the city, leaving the Overlord dismayed that Alastor is still popular and powerful than last time plus he had Yn on his side.

"FUUUUUCK!" Vox yelled.

Vee's Meeting-

Vox, Velvette, and Valentino are at a table together discussing a matter about Alastor as a Robo-Fizz, Kitty, passes out drinks to each of them.

"We have a problem. Alastor is getting close to Yn and little princess Morningstar, so our main concern now is ensuring that no deal is ever struck between Lucifer's.." Vox slams the table, "BRAT, and that smiling freak! AND HIM STEALING OUR BABYCAKES!"

Velvette paused before taking a deep breath, "Well, how exactly are we supposed to stop them?" Valentino was putting so much glue on his revolver to decorate with glitter and marbles.

"Put something inside them. That's how I get the bitches to behave." Val smirked.

"Well, maybe someone on the inside isn't such a bad idea. Do you think Angel would?" Vox crossed his arms.

"That lanky prick won't even return my calls." Val sighed.

"We need someone who Little Miss Bleeding Heart would take in." Vox grumbled.

"Someone... pathetic, desperate, with no direct ties to us?" Velvette noted.

"I employ every down on their luck loser this side of Hell. Who the fuck is left?" Val questioned.

Vox scoffs, "I think..I have JUST the one."

As Vox slowly turns around, his right-hypnotic eye gleams with a sinister grin for a plan he has in stored but before they could do anything one of Vox employees comes into the room.

"Sir!, The crimson queen is here she is waiting for you in the guest room." He said out of breath informing the Vee's.

After hearing that all three stand up wasting no time and sprints towards Yn.

While the Vee's were on their way. Yn is smiling and hugging old friends and coworkers who work or used to work for her. Every demon there loves seeing her when she came by to the studio, she would always bring gifts for them and I mean ALL of them.

"How have you been?!" "What is it like living in that Hotel?" "How come you don't come so often?" "Did you come here to see us?" A lot of questions were thrown at her. She couldn't decide who to answer first.

Doors slammed open revealing Velvette who makes it there before Vox or Valentino. She scans the room until her eyes land on Yn's.

"BABYCAKES!~" she shouted.

"Hi Velvet-" Velvette jumps on her with a tight hug.

"It's so great to see you again! It hasn't been the same without your lovely presence." Velvette held on to her tightly.

Yn chuckled hugging her back signaling everyone in the room to leave them alone for a moment.

"It's nice to see you to Velvette." Yn chuckled hugging her back, signaling everyone in the room to leave them alone for a moment, "Did you get the new clothes I've been sending you? I hoped you like them."

"Like them? I LOVE them!" She smiled. She lets go Yn and hold her arms.

"Sit down sweety, I've been dying to see you again, how you've been? Did you come to see us?" Velvette gestured to the couch, as the sat across each other "or did you come here for something more~" she said teasing as she ran a hand on her on her leg under her dress. Yn blushed that the thought but clear her throat.

"No~, I just came here to bring you guys some gifts and have a word with-" the same doors Velvette came though slammed opened again with Vox and Valentino finally showing up.

"Vox." Yn frowned as she crossed her arms. Velvette looks at her for a moment wondering why she looks upset. Vox notice her expression change when she sees him.

"Hey Yn! What brings you-" He is cut off as glowing fc with fancy chain appears around his neck with a lock. Vox grunts as he falls onto his knees, Velvette takes a photo while Valentino bites his lip with a blush. Yn yanks the chain causing Vox to get dragged up in front of Yn, he chuckles nervously and looks up at Yn.

"Sit." She order him with glowing eyes. He does as his told not wanting to upset her more.

"Val, Velvette, could you two please wait for us outside, i like to talk to Vox alone for a moment." Yn said with her tone sounding dark at the end of her sentence. This made Vox nervous hearing her say it like that.

Valentino and Velvette do as she said, looking back to see a now frighten Vox looking at them with a 'please don't leave me' expression, Velvette took another picture with a thumbs up and Valentino had a sweat come down his forehead and both the Vee close the doors behind them.

Both of them put a ear on the door to hear what's happening inside. Now it was just Vox and Yn in the room.

"Do you know why I came?" Yn asked

"Ummm... No...? Heh..." Vox replied.

"Because of yours and Alastor's little "fight", all electricity across the Pride Ring has cut off!" She tightens her grib on the fc chain..

"Your screw up has cost me alot of money! These little shits will soon start complaining and rioting because of what you did, flat face! And we do not want that." Yn lectured him.

"Baby relax, look if money is the problem here don't worry about. Whoever you are getting your money from I can give you-" Yn interrupt him. Not letting him finish his sentence.

"You know I never take your money, nor will I ever. You are missing the point of this conversation Vox, your little 'fight' cause me money and I'm not okay with the fact that you still pick fights with Alastor." Yn said. Vox seemed annoyed hear the Radio freak's name coming from her mouth. He then gets up and pass back and forward in front of her.

"Ah here we go again with Alastor, you know ever since you moved out, all I hear from demons is how 'close' you and that radio freak are getting. you know how that makes me feel?!" Vox argued. His screen glitches at bit as he looks at Yn with a distasteful look.

"Don't go pointing fingers on me Vox, I wouldn't have moved out if you and those two didn't try to put a 'spell' on me 3 months ago" Vox flinched with guilt at hearing her mention that, but he didn't make it noticeable to her. Val and Velvette had the same guilt look on the faces outside the room hearing their conversion further.

"Oh please, it's wasn't like the end of hell, it would have been great for us and knowing you,-" Vox claimed crossing her arms. He takes out his phone looking at something but is soon broken by a fc fly hair pin thrown his way.

"you would have liked it. It wouldn't have been that bad.-" Vox looks back at her to see a now teary Yn, Vox froze didn't say another word.

"Here I was hoping maybe we could fix our relationship and start over, but I guess nothing changes." Yn said, her head hanging down not showing her face. Vox tries to get close to her. But she stops him by holding her hand in front of him, stopping him on his tracks.

He wanted to hold her, apologize, anything to comfort her. But Vox was one who didn't know when to admit his wrongs or apologize at all so it was no surprise that he didn't dare show that to her. For someone who is a dangerous powerful and deadly overlord. Only he, the Vee's and anyone that's part of her harem are the only one who can see this side of her, her vulnerable side.

Yn got up from the couch, walk towards the door, not looking at Vox as she passed him. She stops in front of the door, "I'm leaving now, I'll be back in 2 weeks with the next transfer." She than opens the door seeing a guilty ears dropping duo trying to pretend they weren't listening.

Valentino walks over to Yn and caresses her whole body. Sensing his Babycakes is hurting, "There, there Babycakes~ I'm sure someone like you can forgive and forget our little problem~" Valentino in his weird way trying to stop her from leaving.

"As I said I won't be back until 2 weeks so take care of things here, yourselves as well." Yn said getting out of Val's grasp walks out of the building.

Vox, Valentino and Velvette stand there watching Yn walk away and out of the studio without looking back but not before she said her goodbyes to everyone she came across.

After she was gone from view, Velvette expressed changed to a pissed look, "Damn it Vox! Yn sure as fuck won't bang any of us any time soon because of you and that smiling ass!" Velvette groans loudly.

Vox just stood there wondering, why do I always fuck shit up, first he lost a fight with Alastor, and now he just hurt the love of his afterlife.

Back at the hotel-

Yn and Alastor make it back to the hotel while Alastor went upstairs satisfied, Yn sat next to Angel Dust laying her head on his chest fur while he was on his phone and he rap his arms around her.

the ink demons are currently fixing the hole in the wall as Charlie and Vaggie than returns. Charlie throws herself onto a couch, exhausted.

"Soooo? How'd it go?" Yn smiled nervously.

Vaggie sighs, "Not a single new recruit."

"'Yeah well, who would wanna use their last days not fucking and fighting?" Angel Dust groaned.

As Angel checks on his phone, Vaggie hears a knock on the front door. She walks over to it and opens the door, only to find Sir Pentious holding his hat.

"Why, hello my dear.." Sir Pentious is cut off by Vaggie punching him in the face.

He falls when Vaggie brings out her spear at him. Sir Pentious cowers in fear with the tip barely at his neck, and holds a peace sign gesture.

"Wait, wait, wait! I come in peace." Pentious cried.

"What are you doing here?" Vaggie asked. Charlie and Yn appears behind Vaggie, "Vaggie, what's the problem?" Charlie gasps, "Oh! Hello again!" "Pentious?"

"I didn't come looking for a fight. I uhh.. I heard that you're helping people, people who want to be better?" Pentious questions.

Charlie lets out a gasp and runs over to grab his hand and leads him to the door of the hotel.

Charlie gasps, "You heard right! Welcome to our home of healing, our resort of restoration, our..." Angel Dust appears from the door and cuts off Charlie, "Are you fucking nuts? This chump was trying to kill us like literally 6 hours ago! And now you wanna bring him in here to live with us?"

"Absolutely! This place is about second chances, and who deserves one more than this slithery... slippery. special little man!" Charlie forced a smile.

Angel turns to look at Yn and Vaggie, "Aren't you two supposed to protect this place?" Charlie gives Yn and Vaggie puppy-dog eyes, begging Yn and Vaggie to give Sir Pentious a chance to live in the hotel. Yn and Vaggie gives in as she sighs.

"I guess he's not much of a threat without the war machine." Sir Pentious' cobra head lifts with anticipation, "Or even with the war machine. Plus I guess Yn is here to make sure he doesn't do anything." Sir Pentious' cobra head flaps down with depression, sighing.

"Sure! I don't mind looking after him." Sir Pentious smiled.

Charlie was so happy that she hugged Vaggie, lifting her up in the process and twirling around once.

"Oh! Thank you thank you thank you thank you! Sir Pentious! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" Charlie leads Sir Pentious to the door inside of the hotel.

"Oh no darling! Thank you! You won't regret this." He smiled sweetly as he slithers next to Yn.

Angel follows soon afterwards, "Eh, I give you a week, tops."

Charlie gives Sir Pentious the tour of the hotel, introducing Husk to him, the wall he blew up before it was fixed.

"So, this is the bar and the bartender. This is the curtain, and this is the new wall after you broke the last one, heh, and oh! Oh! This is the-" Charlie paused as Vaggie grabs Charlie to calm her down again, "Babe, you don't have to show him every detail."

"No." Charlie squealed.

Angel Dust put his arm around, "Uh, what the hell are I then?"

"you're an important part of our family here too, Angel, but you uhm, uh..." Charlie thought.

"Constantly make us look bad, sexually harass the staff, and have literally never once tried to improve?" Vaggie bluntly said.

"What she means is, it's just nice to have someone interested for once." Yn smiled.

As Charlie comes back to Sir Pentious, Angel Dust was having doubts, looking a bit upset at everything Vaggie described him to be. Nifty was playing Keekee with a string when Charlie and Sir Pentious approached them. Keekee hissed at the sight of Sir Pentious and scatters away while Niffty turns around to meet him.

"Over here we have our maid Niffty." Charlie gestured to Niffty.

Niffty gasps, "The bad boy is back!"

Niffty gets up on Sir Pentious and holds his collars, looking at him with insanity in her red eye and a very sadistic smile, which creeps out Sir Pentious.

Niffty spoke in a creepy whisper, "Never leave me again."

"We're about 80% sure she's harmless, and over here we have..." Charlie nearly bumps into Alastor, "Oh! Uh, Alastor! Our gracious facility manager! You've met our newest guest Sir Pentious... hehe.."

"Ah yes! You're the one who ruined my coat!" Alastor's eyes glow red in the dark with a violent temptation to rip him apart as Alastor spoke in a sinister tone, "I definitely remember you now."

Sir Pentious gulps nervously.

"Well, I guess this is a great time for your first lesson!" Charlie clears her throat, "How to apologize!'... The first step to becoming a better person is to admit when you are wrong, why don't you give it a try?"

Sir Pentious took a minute, "Yes. uhm.. Mr uhm.. Radio Demon sir, please forgive me for attacking you and ruining your very lovely coat.. uhm.. Here." As a token of apology, Sir Pentious hands back the small fabric he tore from Alastor's coat.

Alaster takes it and inspects the damage, "Ah-Ho! Not many people have been able to take even this much off me, it must have meant quite a lot to you."

Despite being generous, Alastor burns the fabric tear in green flames, leaving Sir Pentious and Charlie stunned.

The group gather around for a introduction with Sir Pentious. "You obviously know Yn, somehow, but that's not important! Yn is also our facility manager and entertainer along with Angel Dust." Charlie smiled, "Now, with a new resident, I think it's important we all get to know each other! So we are going to play a little game. Everyone, follow me."

"My name is Charlie!" Charlie claps twice, "I like to sing!" She claps twice, "and when we get to know each other it's the greatest thing!" She claps twice.

"My name's Sir Pentious" He claps twice, "I like to build." He claps twice, "and despite my stupid Egg Bois, I think I'm very skilled!" Pentious claps twice.

"My name is Yn." Yn claps twice, "I like to dance," She claps once again, "And if an Angel dares to hurt you..." She clapped twice again, "They will meet their end." Yn clapped twice more.

When it was Angel's turn, he looked disinterested, looking up from his phone, "This is stupid." Angel Dust stated.

"This is not stupid!" Charlie claps twice, "It's just a game!" She claps twice, "Sir Pentious did it well so now please try to do the same!" Charlie claps twice, seeming annoyed.

"I am too sober for this." Angel Dust groaned.

"Well, get used to it and learn how to play, this is gonna be your whole day!" Vaggie smirked and clapped twice.

Next the group try role-playing with Angel Dust wearing a trenchcoat and a hat while he reads a script. Sir Pentious was also role-playing as an innocent child wearing a sailor suit, licking a lollipop. As Husk was an unattentive parent for some reason. Husk didn't mind, he'd got to drink with Yn as she pet his fur.

"Oh, I'm a bad man on the streets who never got enough hugs, now, where's an innocent kid I can sell crack to?" Angel Dust paused, "Wow, who wrote this.?" He whispered.

"Who do you think?" Yn question Angel.

"It's great right? Keep going!" Charlie squealed.

"Hey you." Angel called.

"Who, me?" Pentious pointed to himself.

"Yeah, you look like a kid who could use some... devil's dandruff??" Angel groaned, "Oh, for fuck's sake."

Yn paused her petting Husk's fur, looking at Angel with a chuckle. Husk stopped his drinking looking at Yn waiting for her to let him again.

"Not me! I have to go home and study!" Pentious stated. Husk twitch his ear touching Yn hand, Yn catching on what he wanted she had a small smile on her face and continue to pet him, which caused Husk to purr quietly.

"Come on kid, it'll make you cool like me...the crackhead." Angel dully said.

"The only cool thing here is to say no to drugs! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage!" Pentious smiled.

Charlie stands up and claps, "Yes! Oh bravo! Bravo!" Charlie chuckles, "Wow Pentious! At this rate, you'll be redeemed in no time."

"I... I'm going to bed." As Angel heads back up to his room, he overhears Charlie congratulating Sir Pentious.

"I am so proud of you Sir Pentious! That was amazing!" Charlie cheers.

"Thank you! Thank you! You like me! You really like me!" Pentious smiled.

"Good Job, Pentious." Yn smiled.

"Awwww!! Thank you!!!" Pentious hugged Yn.

Yn backed up from the hug and rushed Husk who was drunk, thinking about Yn petting him again later.

In Angel's room, Fat Nuggets is asleep on his bed until Angel accidentally throws his coat on top of him. Fat Nuggets grunts and crawls out of the coat as he watches Angel lie down on his bed. Angel looks at his phone and sees all his voice mails from Valentino. Angel sighs and begins to play them. Valentino's voice mails switch back and forth between a friendly, apologetic tone and a barrage of screams threatening violence.

Valentino's Voice Message:

"Angel baby, come home! It's not the same without you here, I miss you! Come back-"

"ANGEL, YOU BITCH! IF YOU DON'T COME HOME, YOU'LL BE FUCKING GREASY TRUCKERS FOR THE NEXT YEAR-"

"Hey, amorcito, I didn't mean to yell, but you know hore crazy you make me-"

"YOU FUCKING SLUT!"

"Hey; Angie! About earlier-"

"-KILL YOUR WHOLE FUCKIN' FAMILY!"

"Work's really stressful!"

"-LITTLE COCKSUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!"

"[dead serious] You actually think you can change? Addict trash like you doesn't change. I'll see you soon, baby."

Angel sighs as Fat Nuggets gets on the bed next to him.

"Sorry, not now, Fat Nuggets." Angel sighs sadly.

Angel gets up and leaves his room with Fat Nuggets looking worried. Angel goes to Husk's bar and starts drinking alcohol. Then he notices a slithering noise. He finds Charlie's office door opened, and takes a peek inside.

There, he discovers that Sir Pentious is setting up a small camera in one of the bookshelves, a camera that belongs to Vox. Angel realizes what he was doing and slams the door open.

"You slippery little shit!" Angel yelled.

Sir Pentious screams.

"You're working for the Vees? I fucking knew there was something shitty about you." Angel Dust narrows his eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about!.. whore bug!" Pentious shots back.

Angel was ticked off, and tackles Sir Pentious on the ground. He punches him in the face before wrestling with him.

"Get your aggressively average body...OFF OF ME!" Sir Pentious's eyes spiral hypnotic powers to him.

Angel becomes hypnotized, "Fuck!"

Angel backs away. He then quickly snaps out of it. He now has Sir Pentious cornered. Right then, Yn, Charlie and Vaggie woke up after hearing the scuffle.

Charlie yawns, "What's going on?"

"It's too late for anything." Yn said who was still a bit sleepy.

"This little bitch is a traitor!" Angel Dust gestured to Pentious.

"Preposterous! I would never betray you. You... are my best friends!" Sir Pentious hugs the three girls.

"Uh huh, then explain this!" Angel Dust smirked. Angel lifts off one of the books to reveal a camera, much to Charlie's shock. Sir Pentious realizes that his cover was blown scurries away.

He brings out his wrist watch to make contact with Vox.

"Ah! Ah! Abort! Abort! S.O.S! Agent Pentious in need of immediate evacuation!" Pentious sounded nervous.

Vox immediately picks up.

"Pentious? Wait... you were caught?!? It hasn't even been a day!" Vox laughed.

"Please! You've got to get me out of here!" Pentious begged.

"I can't believe we thought you could handle even something this simple. Do us a favour, if they don't kill you, go ahead and do it yourself! You miserable failure!" Vox hung up.

Sir Pentious was crying, "I... I... just make it quick I guess.. not that I deserve it." Sir Pentious lies on the ground, with Vaggie holding a spear ready to pierce the skull.

"Gladly." Vaggie smirked.

Right before Vaggie could put him out of misery, Yn stops her. "Whoa. Let's not jumps to murder straight away."

"Yn's right. We're not killing anyone." Charlie smiles and starts singing.

"Pentious?" Sir Pentious looks up to see Charlie reaching out for him.

"~It starts with sorry, that's your foot in the door~"

"~One simple sorry, spoken straight from your core.~"

"~The path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of hearts!~"

"~But sorry is where it starts!~"

"~Who could forgive a dirtbag like me?~"

"~I don't deserve your amnesty.~" Angel comes with dual Tommy submachine guns in both hands with Vaggie tailing behind with her spear.

"~Can't we just kill him?~"

"~Shoot him and spill his blood?~" Yn stand in front of Pentious. As Pentious' eyes sparkle.

"That's an option you could choose." Yn answered.

"~Works for us.~" Yn puts her hand out to Pentious who takes it immediately.

"~But who hasn't been in his shoes? It starts verth sorry.~" Charlie added.

"~Sorry.~"

"~Dig down deeper and say one sincere sorry!~"

"~I'm so sorry!~"

"~And your journey's underway!~"

"~It'll take time to cover your/my vast multitude of sins, But sorry is where it begins.~"

"~It starts with sorry.~"

As the song ends, Niffty was also awake, but she was disappointed that Sir Pentious isn't whom she thought he would be: a bad boy.

"I hated that song! Why are you so lame?!" Niffty kicks him on the body and walks away, 'Not a bad boy'."

Charlie happily sighs, "Good first day! Let's get some rest!"

As Charlie and the others except Yn leave with a wrist watch communicator still in the office, Yn looks back at the watch and then to the dark hallway.

"Alastor be a dear and please get rid of the trash in here, goodnight." Yn said as walks away to head back to sleep.

Alastor appears from the shadow of the dark hallway with a smile. He comes and picks up the watch before contacting Vox on the watch.

"WHAT?!?" Vox yelled.

Vox paused when he realized that it was Alastor who was calling him, showing fear in his screen face as Alastor laughed evilly.

"You'll have to try harder than that next time ol' pal!" Alastor smirked.

With a maniacal laughter, Alastor crushed the watch with his bare head, and the only sound Vox makes was a raging scream before Alastor retreats back into the darkness.

Previous Page: Ch. 4: Overtune

Next Page: Ch. 6: The New Sinner in Town (CS)

Beginning: Front Cover

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katyspersonal · 10 days

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Another SOTE progress post!

1) Okay so like I said earlier in another post the highlight of today was finally defeating Rellana x) It felt REALLY rewarding to finally win after having to try so many things, Miyazaki forced me to use my brain AGAIN

2) After that I went to talk with the NPCs around the crosses by an advice by @val-of-the-north since not being able to summon Leda apparently meant that I've got the rune of Miquella broken. And hoooo boy.... At last I got to that part where Ansbach revealed the uncancelled Mohg's lore.

"Once, in an attempt to free Lord Mohg from his enchantment, I challenged Tender Miquella, only to have my own heart rather artfully stolen. I knew not how weak I was. I believed that with sufficient mastery, even and Empyrean would be within reach of my blade. I could not have been more mistaken... Miquella the Kind...is a monster. Pure and radiant, he wields love to shrive clean the hearts of men. There is nothing more terrifying."

"Righteous Tarnished. Miquella the Kind makes my blood run cold. I am loath to admit it, but even at this very instant I wish to run very far away indeed."

Soooo, yeah.. Apparently the bit I was spoiled is later game dialogue, this is a different one and I see it for the first time! Damn, trailer quote tho x)

3) What I did NOT know is that all these characters were under the spell of Bewitching Branch too ;-; Guess Leda is going after the hornsent guy's throat now gfhgjg Wild to see how everyone now does what they actually want, SPEAKING OF:

4) Thiollier now wants to go seek the part of Miquella he earlier had sealed away with the spell wall branded with his Haligtree symbol! There is now outright confirmation that Trina IS Miquella:

"Would Kindly Miquella chasten me? For falling for St. Trina, while knowing that she was the discarded half? The problem is... I simply cannot help it. I would sacrifice everything, just to gaze upon her, one last time."

Damn... either 1) Looks like both alters of Miquella have the capacity of compelling affection? Not just his Bewitching Branch, but whatever sleepy scent powers Trina is using or 2) Thiollier is Just Like This. Tea?

"I see you've thrown away... Something you should not have. Under any circumstances. How will you salvation offer... to those who cannot be saved? When you could not even save your other self? Kindly Miquella..."

5) The cross strangely has the message from Miquella, "I abandon here my love". All things considered it is not supposed to refer to his feelings, and recalling dialogue by Ansbach I'd say it maybe refers to his ability to wield love as weapon? Because look at how NOW Trina's power entices people into coma. Speaking OF:

6) Turned out my previous guess was wrong, and "bastardisation" of Trina's otherwise pacifist powers was not work of followers, but result of Miquella severing her from his being!

7) (or rather 6.1 lol) This is actually a good additional timeline clue! Earlier Freija mentioned that she received her Scarlet Rot wound in Caelid, so, as Malenia and Radanh fought, and Miquella was the one to heal it! So he was around that time yet. Then, change in Trina's powers happened as Miquella went to abandon his Empyrean entity, when Dolores has been using the powers as they were and she was in the Roundtable Hold! This I think will be useful for later to recover when could he have started with the plan! I already have a working suggestion for explaining events, just need more info!

8) Damn, not the area from the trailer ;-; Thiollier is so dead lol

By the way the boss in this area is RIDICULOUSLY difficult hghghg I gave up on him and kinda went to have adventures elsewhere just for the heck of it!

9) Discovered an actual dialogue by an old lady in Belurat, AND:

EMPYREAN?? I actually yelled at Val about it since I needed to know whether it is legit the same term or perhaps a loss in translation! And he researched Japanese script and confirmed that yes, indeed, this woman IS an Empyrean like GEQ, Marika, Ranni, Miquella and Malenia! @val-of-the-north be a dear and add the evidence you've found today in a reblog or another pose! Because HECK, WHAT????

10) So I went to look around in random places since that boss was too hard. Found a small piece of some ruins by Val's advice, using one of those blue Keyswords. Then I wanted to go down in a village down near Moorth Ruins but for the heck of it could not figure how to get down there. While waiting for Val's slow ass to instruct me, I started to run wherever, really. And ironically, found the exact cave leading me to the FULL version of those Ruins! Felt surprised to find the golden tree inside!

11) Went through second poisonous swamp in the game yet, truly Miyazaki xD

12) Stumbled into Kindred of Rot, but they are RED in color!!!

This was so bizarre?? Damn, still, what ARE they doing here? First turned out that Formless Mothers and rituals for her that Mohg is using originated in Shadow Realm, now this.. Makes me wonder whether all Outer Gods come from this place originally, so God of Rot too, so, Twinbird too?

13) Hey @heraldofcrow how did you lose your clothes?? Put them back on slut gdghvgbvbbh

14) I decided to explore later and instead went to bully Horned Knights and Ascetics for their sets and weapon in Belurat. Belurat has places very close to Site of Grace for both! Horned Knight farming went pretty fast and easy! Ascetic... not so much. :/ He did drop his weapon and arm piece, but past this point he's been only dropping leg piece over and over! Reminds me of that 'Seebass? No, it's at least C+!' meme vffhhhh I think I will return for his mask later :/

15) This type of posts becomes a bit too structured, I need to post more random items descs

16) However I got a note from Val that we surprisingly got lore on Fingercrawlers (lol at my recent theory post aging like milk xd) and @jarognieva said something about a couple of spots on the map looking like giant fingerprints + having many fingers within 👀 No idea what is going on yet, but I can see it now!

Okay that's it for now.. until the tomorrow's work shift ends xD

#elden ring #elden ring dlc #sote spoilers #gameplay log #screenshots

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the-meghan-m · 4 months

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Fragrance girlies: what do we think Scully wears?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently because I’m searching for my signature scent and have been learning about fragrances in the process.

I think Scully is someone who chooses how she presents herself very carefully. She would employ the scientific method to find her signature scent, doing research, testing dozens of samples, and keeping track of which notes she prefers.

Here’s how I imagine Scully’s signature scent, in the style of a fragrance review (which are, on the whole, surprisingly lyrical):

I think she wants her scent to be subtle but layered. Apart from simply liking the smell, she wants to evoke a scene, feeling, or memory. As we know, Scully is a family-oriented person who cherishes the gifts bestowed on her by her parents—notably, the cross necklace, but more broadly, her Catholic faith. As I suspect is the case for many Catholics, for Scully, much of the appeal of going to church is rooted in ancient traditions and worship aesthetics—think incense, smooth wood, gospel processions, tall beeswax candles, blood-red fabrics, chants, bitter Communion wine, textured bulletin paper. I think Scully would want her signature scent to evoke, if not a sense of Catholicism, something monumental, ritualistic, and purifying; a promise of salvation that science can never provide.

However, speaking of science, I think there must be something about the freshness and modernity of what you might call more “clinical” scents that appeals to Dana Scully, Medical Doctor. Even the pickiest of noses cannot ignore the allure of a good lobby smell, complete with a whiff of commercial floor cleaner, and as a star medical student, young Dana Scully was often in labs and hospitals, surrounded by chemicals. I think she likes the comfortability of the fresh, clean, and methodical. It feels like her, what she brings to the table.

Lastly, I think Scully has a deep reverence for nature, and judging by her behavior in episodes like “Darkness Falls” and “Detour,” she’s always been a forest girl. I associate The X-Files in general with foresty smells, and I think when Scully remembers the early days, she pictures all those times she and Mulder ran around in the woods together. Think fallen pine needles, miles of conifer trees wet with rain, damp, rich soil. Woodsy and earthy and rooted. Tethered to the ground, not flying around amongst the stars, fate unknown.

So, based on all of that, I think Scully would want a fragrance that’s traditional/nostalgic, fresh/modern, and woodsy/earthy, possibly with some of these notes:

Traditional/nostalgic: frankincense, myrrh, patchouli, elemi, benzoin

Fresh/modern: bergamot, cotton blossom, lemongrass, aldehydes, white tea, lavender

Woodsy/earthy: Cedarwood, cypress, pine, rain, soil, orris, petrichor, vetiver, oud

But what do you think? What would Scully wear? What scents do you think she would like? I know this is so nerdy and random but I am so curious what the fandom thinks!

#I’m serious when I say the majority of fragrance reviews are written this way #it’s fantastic #scully #dana scully #x files #the x files #fragrance

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haitaniapologist · 1 year

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you drew stars around my scars ( kaveh x fem!reader )

tws — alcoholism, d*pression, s*icide mention, a lot of daddy issues, angst (with comfort). this fic contains sensivite subjects regarding those trigger warnings, so be careful when reading. no proofread.

as a child, you never understand why you needed to smell all the other bottles of your house before drinking it. nor why your father would take hours on the tavern before coming home with the delicious dinner he promised you before leaving — you were just happy to have him at home, even though he and your mother would always argue about the smallest things. maybe it was just how married couples were, your child conscience would think, too unaware of the way he'd reek of wine or how sometimes he needed help to walk because his legs were too wobbly.

your father's problems with alcohol started as soon as you were born, and you couldn't tell what were traits of his personality or the alcohol speaking and the thought of not knowing who your father truly was always plagued you.

but, with kaveh, you could.

you could tell that when he was flirtier than usual, or more touchy, it was the alcohol on him speaking — sober kaveh was more of romantic gestures than flirty ones — or when he looked too cheerful and his smiles didn't made his eyelids close with happiness, or when his eyes were too unfocused on the person he was supposed to pay attention to. they were subtle changes, but changes you knew deep in your heart.

drunk kaveh wasn't the kaveh you fell in love with, the kshahrewar student who you left in awe after one of your dance performances in the grand bazaar — your love story was supposed to rival mondstadt's greatest bard's songs, something that was supposed to be forbidden due to the nature of yours and his environments, but the love that blossomed inside two younger hearts was too strong to let the relationship end just because of what the akademiya thought about the arts.

but such love wasn't strong enough to endure when you saw him going in the same path as your father, even with the many warnings and sincere conversations you had with him.

you've made the promise of not being like your mother on the day your father died due to his addiction, and you decided to honor your teenage self — leaving kaveh and ending your relationship was the most difficult decision you ever made, a decision that, in the middle of uncharacteristic cold nights, you still had doubts if it was the best thing. however, you didn't want to be there to watch him going further and further down in a path you knew which the ending was, without caring for your experiences or feelings. he knew how much you were affected by your father actions, but still decided to close his eyes to what could happen when relying on alcohol to feel something good could happen.

a broken heart to break a cycle was a fair thing to pay, you thought — even though it hurt more than anything you ever felt. kaveh managed to make a way for him inside your bones and soul, and your flesh screamed for him. to feel his touch, to taste his kisses once more.

just like the wine he so dearly loved, he managed to be as sweet and additive as it.

but life needed to go on, and work called you, like a salvation. becoming a member of zubayr theater and rising to the position of one of their stars alongside nilou was what kept you sane through your grief, and you couldn't be more grateful for them — and, surprisingly, for alhaitham too. kaveh's friend and roommate took your side in everything that happened, and you knew it was because of his worry for his housemate, but a strong friendship blossomed between you and the scribe after the break up.

“he has stopped drinking, you know.” alhaitham said, casually, over his coffee break with you, as if what he was saying was about some old guy in birmastan instead of your ex boyfriend.

you almost spilled your tea over him, or choked on what was inside your mouth. it had been some months since you last heart about kaveh, grateful that he respected your wishes when you said you didn't want to see him ever again — words you screamed at his face after he arrived in your house reeking of wine and triggering the most horrible feelings your heart had locked up ever since you were fourteen — but you never thought alhaitham would be the one to bring him up, so casually, inside the puspa cafe. taking your silence as his permission to talk, the scribe continued. “i've never seen him so determined before, not even when he's working on a project.” it wasn't common for alhaitham to praise kaveh, so what he was doing was probably something so exceptional that made the scribe want to say good things about his roommate. “the breakup changed him, i suppose.”

you smiled weakly at him. was he trying to put him in good graces with you again? did kaveh make him schedule a meeting with you so alhaitham could talk about your ex-boyfriend to you? you wouldn't be fooled. you were no scholar, but you weren't stupid. “i wish he had changed when we were still together, as it is easy to change when one is no longer around. now, i suppose it doesn't matter anymore for me.” it pained to say such words because it did matter for you, and you hoped alhaitham couldn't see the tears glossing your vision.

did you mean so little to kaveh that he decided to change only when you weren't in the picture anymore?

—

kaveh sighed in frustration.

he had hoped that when alhaitham brought him up in his conversation with you, you would've a better reaction. though it hurt, he expected such words coming from your mouth — but words could be lies, and he wished he was there to watch your body language, as he could read it like the palm of his hand.

unlike alhaitham, who read people as if they were a rock.

however, that didn't matter. kaveh now knew when your next performance in the grand bazaar would be, and that was what he needed. he was sure you'd never agree to meet him in private, and maybe approaching you in a public setting would be best for him to show how much he had changed and how willing to fight to have you back he was.

he hoped the bouquet of sumeru roses would be enough to soften your heart, so he could talk how difficult it was to stop drinking, but he did it for you and for himself, too — the scars on his fists were enough reminder of how destructive alcohol made his thoughts to be, and, if it wasn't for alhaitham, he doubted he would've survived such spiral he went down on that fateful day. drinking had been a great distraction for all the pain he had inside his chest, for his father and mother and for you too, but it was also his biggest enemy. everything was much better now that wine wasn't his best friend.

in the end, you had been right, and kaveh was a fool for not listening to you — and he hoped he wasn't too late now. surely seven months wouldn't be enough to erase the love you had for him, right?

he sighed again, a soft smile on his face watching you spinning and dancing, rehearsing for your next performance. it pained him to watch from the shadows something he used to watch first hand, but he didn't want to disturb you. he had already waited for so long, a few days wouldn't be compared to the months of anguish since you broek up with him.

—

sometimes you felt like you were being watched from the shadows, a figure following every step you took, but you wouldn't let yourself be paranoid about something that was just in your head. maybe you were just anxious about your next performance in the grand bazaar, as sharing the stage with nilou always awoken such feelings in your heart — as her senior in both the theater and in the art of dancing, though sharing the same teacher, you always wanted to give her and the audience the performance of your life.

however, you were restless for some other reasons — alhaitham's words about kaveh were still resonating inside your head, of how he stopped drinking after your break up. it was selfish and even naïve to think that he'd try to mend the relationship you both had now that he was sober, but you still could imagine him coming to your house and you both getting over your differences. he was haunting all of your what-ifs, making you look for him in shadows inside the places you two used to go together, and that infuriated you. deep inside, you wished he'd attend the performance in the grand bazaar, only for you to see if he was doing alright.

but the fear of seeing him with someone else was too much, too.

what if his sober mind noticed that he didn't love you, and his feelings were just products of the wine he'd drink before reaching your house and making your body his home? what if he noticed he was just trying to find who'd draw stars on his scars, whisper sweet nothings on his skin whenever the pain and guilt about his father's death would take control of his body? what if you were just what his drunk self needed, but not his sober one?

you wondered if that were the thoughts of your mother, while enduring a loveless marriage with your father. was she holding the hope of him becoming the man she fell in love with for all those years, while peeling the shell of a monster, trying to find your father beneath it?

she'd found love again, but you wondered if those thoughts still plagued her, like your thoughts about kaveh were doing with you. you just wished he could go away and leave you alone, even though he wasn't there.

a knock on the door took you out from your thoughts, and, groaning, you got up from the chair you were sitting, ready to start another performance by nilou's side. the cataclysm was a play very popular within the kids and those who didn't study in the akademiya, and the clothes of the electro archon were almost like a second skin to you, the armor you needed to shield yourself from your own thoughts — though, however, such armor came to ashes as soon as noticed a pair of red eyes on the crowd.

—

kaveh hugged the bouquet of sumeru's roses a bit closer to his heart, after hearing mr. zubayr saying that you have already left for your house.

he didn't expect you to wait for him, if you did notice him in the crowd, but it still hurt a little. you danced so beautiful, portraying the fierce and unstoppable electro archon fighting against monsters alongside the lord of geo. he was your biggest supporter and admirer, even though you always had dozen of them lined up to greet you after a performance — always saying to kaveh that none could compare to him when he'd get too pouty, wanting to have you all for himself when seeing the attention you gave your admirers.

now, perhaps, he was the one who couldn't compare to them.

but he knew your favorite flowers were the sumeru roses, unlike many of your admirers, and he was willing to give you millions of them if you so desired — the birmastan would be in loss of one of their medicinal herbs, as they'd be sitting on your house as a testimony of his compromise to you.

kaveh knew like the back of his hand the way of your house, familiar with all the wild flowers and rocks of the way. his architectural mind always had ideas of how to make your street more beautiful, to suit having you living there, ideas that would make you stay awake during the night hearing him saying everything that was in his mind — more flowers, more trees, a new design for the buildings. you two were like water and oil, but mixed perfectly until you didn't.

almost reaching the place he'd call a second home, he heard noises that always made him disgusted and angry — fighting sounds, skin against skin in punches and kicks, cries and whines. but he ran, because he knew from whose mouth such sounds were coming from.

he would make whoever ambushed you pay with the most painful punishment.

“hey, what's happening here?” he demanded, voice full of authority of a member of the kshahrewar darshan — especially because those who were cornering you were his juniors, and he wondered what was wrong in their minds. they stopped as soon as kaveh opened a way between them to put his body in front of you, not sparing a glance to your wounded body. if he saw the extent of your injuries before making them leave, perhaps he'd be expelled from the akademiya. “did you all lose your minds? she's a weaponless woman!”

they seemed ashamed, but only because their senior caught them in the act. kaveh heard you sighing in relief behind him, and such a reaction made the red clouds on his vision dissipate — you felt safe with him still.

“she's a dancer.” the boldest one of them replied, and kaveh recognized him as the one who punched your face slightly before he made them stop. “a scum. you shouldn't protect her, she's staining sumeru's reputation.”

if it wasn't for the flowers on his hand, kaveh would've done to him the same he was doing to you. “and she's still a weaponless woman.” he knew that trying to argue with them wouldn't lead anywhere, and he needed to make sure you were fine. “just leave, the three of you, before i treat you like you were treating her.” he threatened, watching as they went away before turning to you.

with an open lip and some open wounds on your arms and neck, kaveh almost blurted how beautiful you were — but he knew it wasn't time for it. “are you alright?” you nodded and, as much as he wanted to hear your voice speaking to him, he would give you time. he knew some people were hostile to you and your colleagues of the zubayr theater, but he never thought scholars would be bold enough to ambush a defenseless artist. it made this blood boil, but he wasn't there to avenge you yet. “th… these are for you.” he almost shoved the bouquet in your face, closing his eyes when he felt his cheeks warming up, missing the way your eyes sparkled and your lips curled in a small smile.

he only opened them again when he felt you taking over the flowers, eyes closed and face close to the petals, nose smelling the comforting scent of the flowers — and he shouldn't be jealous of inanimate things, but oh, how much he desired to be in their position. “thank you.” you whispered, and kaveh felt his heart melting with the sweetness of your voice.

an awkward silence followed the sweet interaction, with both you and kaveh lost in your thoughts and the words you wanted to say to each other locked up on throats that wanted nothing more than to proffer the undying love for each other of their owners.

“may i escort you to your house, y/n?” your name wasn't foreign to his tongue, but it had been ages since he professed those syllables — it has a new taste on his mouth, far more sweet than it used to be. “so i can prevent those scumbags from bothering you again.” kaveh quickly added, afraid that you would see such a suggestion as something else. it was something else, a way for him to be around you once again, and you probably knew that, but he hoped you would accept it.

he was surprised that you didn't seem to think twice before answering. “yes, of course. lead the way, kaveh.”

—

it was a nice and short walk, but before you knew it, kaveh was inside your house and between your legs, his fingers cleaning your facial wounds with a delicacy only reserved to those who were lovers of the art — and his hands were stable, you noticed. not trembling because of the alcohol.

you didn't remember how you managed to ask him to get inside or how he managed to get you to agree with him doing such an intimate act on your body, but it used to be the other way around. you would be the one cleaning wounds on his face and body from fighting against monsters in the forest, and not him doing it because some men thought it would be a wise decision to abuse you just because of your career choice. your mother would always say that you were like a bird, one that wasn't caged, and that your wings would take you to the most beautiful places and she wasn't wrong. it took you to the zubayr theater, to kaveh.

he wasn't saying anything even though you wanted him to, but you couldn't be able to break the silence. it wasn't awkward, but it was heavy and you hoped he couldn't hear or feel how quickly your heart was bearing — but, as soon as you noticed bandages around his wrists, you knew you needed to ask.

“what happened?” you asked, holding his wrists together and near your face, making him unable to do his work on your skin. everything was clean now, you could feel it.

kaveh contemplated if he should lie to you or not. those were scars he was ashamed of, scars that weren't known by you. but you could read him like an open book and, judging by the tears making your eyes shine with sadness, you knew what was the action that inflicted them on his skin. “it was a long night.” he whispered, feeling the way your fingers traced the twin scars under the bandages. “it was the first death anniversary of my father after our break up and i just… i just wanted the pain and guilt to stop.” he watched as you nodded, trying so hard to not let the tears fall down your eyes. “i had drank more than normal and smashed a bottle on the wall and… the glass was too appealing for me.”

“i'm sorry.”

“it's not your fault." kaveh whispered back, taken aback by how sad you sounded. it never had been your fault — his decisions and acts were his burdens to carry. “it was on that day that i noticed how bad the alcohol was for me and that i needed help. if it wasn't for alhaitham…” he sighed, dropping his eyes at where your hands held his wrists together — your touch burned his skin, and he hoped it would leave a scar so he could always remember this moment.

though, however, he never expected you to slowly untie his bandages.

neither did you know what got over you, but you needed him to know how much you still loved him, how much you were willing to make things work between you two again. you needed kaveh in your life like a flower needed water, like the moon needed the sun to shine. you brought the skin of his wrists to your lips, kissing the scarred skin softly — and your lips felt like an oasis after days spent in the desert.

“d-don’t.” he whispered, and you could tell his eyes were filled with tears despite not looking at me. “don’t give me hope that you still love me.” he felt as small as he did on the day his mother left sumeru to fontaine, to the day his father left to participate in that damn tournament. and it was that kid that was whispering such words, afraid of being left again by someone he loved.

but as much as that child was speaking for kaveh, your own child self was the one making your decisions — a child that once was afraid to open her heart and be hurt, a child that the biggest nightmare was to be loved wrong like her father once did with her. but kaveh showed that his love for you wasn’t wrong, and you couldn’t let him slip away from your grasp again. it was difficult to let him go in the first place, but you now knew that both of you needed time to grow and heal and to be away from each other while doing so.

“but i do.” you whispered so softly, afraid that he would fly away like a dandelion if you spoke louder. “leaving you was the hardest decision i ever took, kaveh.” you confessed, putting his right hand over your chest. “my heart never stopped being yours.”

kaveh smiled, albeit more sadder than you were expecting too. “as mine never stopped being yours too, my muse.” the pet name always made your cheeks redden, and now it wasn’t different. “and i need to thank you.” the hands that were being held by yours made their way to cup your face, bringing your forehead to rest on his. kaveh was beautiful from any angle, but being this close to him made you notice how enchanting he was. “the hardest decision of your life was what i needed to clear my head and mind.” you both breathed the same air, as if you were the same being, but it wasn’t enough — yours and kaveh’s souls needed to be one once more, and you could feel them mixing once more, finally finding the comfort and ease they were deprived of while you were away. “and be ready to love you as you deserve.”

but relief, too. relief to know that their feelings didn’t change, but only grew and grew stronger than before, to know that they were still made for each other despite everything.

your ways would always lead you to kaveh, as his would lead him to you.

he didn’t hesitate to claim your lips once more, caressing your face as if you were the most beautiful piece of artwork he ever saw. you would never grow tired of kaveh’s kisses and you only noticed how much you missed them —but it seemed different somehow, without the smell of wine and sluggish words. they were stable and assertive, only to show you how much kaveh was willing to change to worship you and your body.

the ghost who was haunting all of your what ifs was back to his rightful place: between your arms, and to stay until the end of his days.

not me coming back after months of just reblogging hal's fics to post one of my own lmao im sorry! i'll try to write more now okay!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #tw alcoholism #tw depression #tw suicide

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drenched-in-sunlight · 6 months

Note

iguazu has the most references to religion in his dialogue by a landslide. (prolly bc he swears a lot but ehhh) so i have a headcanon that he's catholic.

here's where we go off the rails. biting at his leash to sink his teeth into raven, he hardly prays anymore. deus ex machine. allmind comes, his miracle, promises salvation, HEAVEN, if he just worships her. he's been here before, so its easy for him to slip back into old patterns.

iguazu sees himself as her begrudging angel, she sees him as her perfect vessel, blinded by those teal and purple lights.

it gives him wings to deliver her message with but takes his mind and control in return. god and its archangel

anyway listen to honey im home by ghost and read which flesh is your flesh on ao3

for some reasons the first word of this i saw is "Catholic", so the conversation i had with my friend on twt few weeks ago about how "O'Keeffe was raised Catholic and that no matter what he does he's always enthralled by apathetic gods [ALLMIND] and beautiful martyrs [Flatwell]" JUMPED OUT I WAS LIKE WAIT WHAT. but then i saw this is about Iguazu akdsfjsdjkfkjd

still, the next part REELS ME IN AGAIN like wow u r onto something. that makes Iguazu going against All-Mind/ his God because his feelings for Raven override any piety he might have even more delicious ... yes good ....

and thank you for the rec! tbh i did read through that fic, but my interpretation of 621 and the Iguazu/621 dynamic is a bit different, so i don't really continue. but seeing as many ppl like that one it might be more others' cup of tea!

#ask #anon #reply

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jessamine-rose · 1 month

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˚♱ଘ Faustian Bargain ଓ♱˚

Welp here we are with the fourth entry in my Yandere Church AU. Let’s fall into depravity once more, this time with Demon! Pantalone x Contractee! Darling (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

Tw:: yandere, manipulation, blood, violence, slight self-harm for summoning purposes, spice, mention of nsfw, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion, guest-starring Demon! Scaramouche <3

♡ 2.5k words under the cut ♡

♡ Since their creation, humans have ruled over the mortal plane under the influence of spiritual beings. But while angels are venerated as divine saviors, demons are fallen sinners who corrupt humanity through temptation and curses. It is for this reason that humans live in fear of demons, with the Church condemning all forms of unholy covenant. But time and time again, that warning has fallen on deaf ears.

♡ Throughout history, several individuals have formed pacts with demons in exchange for divine favors. Favors vary across demons but in all contracts, the price is clear: The human gives up their soul and any chance at salvation. Once the pact has been made, the human is granted the ability to summon the demon as their lifelong companion. But upon the human’s death, the pact is broken and the demon is free to seek out new souls.

♡ It is through these contracts that the Harbinger of Fortune rose to prominence. He is a “young” demon in the sense that his earliest records only date back to three centuries; but in that short amount of time, Pantalone has tempted many fools and heretics with the promise of material wealth. And it is through this tactic that he attained power, recognition, your soul.

♡ In your defense, you had no other choice. Born to an elite family in Liyue, you had enjoyed a life of luxury until your parents squandered their fortune. After a failed attempt to flee to another nation, they were murdered and you were told to repay their debts lest you meet the same fate. It was a hopeless situation—you had no assets to pawn off and even then, your remaining days would be spent in poverty. So when you recalled the local stories about the demon who deals in prosperity, you were desperate to summon him.

♡ It is difficult to find authentic records of his summoning ritual, but you manage with what little time you have left. There is an illustration of his sigil, to be copied on the floor with blood from your own palm. A table is arranged with incense, gold coins, freshly-brewed tea, a mirror, and the dagger used to extract your blood. Once everything is in place, you clasp your bloody hands together and utter the sacred incantations.

♡ As soon as Pantalone’s true name leaves your lips, the incense sticks emit a dark fragrant smoke. The summoning circle glows violet and within it, a brilliant figure emerges. Dark horns, adorned with silver, curve back along his raven hair. His garments are styled with violet jewels, serpentine motifs, an iridescent cape embroidered with a scene from the Garden of Eden. He is beautiful, so beautiful that you feel unworthy when his bespectacled gaze meets yours.

♡ Before you can look away, he is already onto you. In a polite voice, he introduces himself and asks for your name. Next, he tells you to disable the barrier of the summoning circle; he prefers civil negotiations. It takes some reluctance on your part but eventually, the two of you are seated together at the table. There is a critical look on his face as he surveys his offerings and explains his contract in detail.

♡ Aside from the general rules, there are clauses specific to Pantalone’s pacts. He can only be summoned twice a week, and never on Sundays. Contracts with other demons require his permission. Any attempt at breaking the pact will incur severe consequences. All of this is said with honeyed words and a kind smile.

♡ So perfect is his facade that you fail to notice an undertone of condescension. A glimpse into your soul was all it took for Pantalone to regard you as a hopeless fool hindered by your worldly upbringing. But that is fine—fools are easier to deal with, and you’d make a pretty addition to his collection of souls. Plus, it was only yesterday that his previous human died, and he is always quick to move on to the next pact. With that, Pantalone tells you to make a choice.

“A fair exchange, don’t you think?” he asks. The smile on his face is deceptively angelic. “In return for your soul, I will provide you with wealth, prosperity, everything your heart desires. Do you believe it is worth the price, ______?”

♡ You say yes. That is when Pantalone takes off his rings then his gloves, revealing multiple scars slashed across his palm lines. Gracefully, he picks up your used dragger, draws a new line, and clasps his wounded hand in yours. Then he wraps the same hand around your neck, staining it with a mix of your blood.

♡ There is a burning sensation followed by a burst of pure ecstasy. Once the euphoria subsides, Pantalone lets go of you and holds up the mirror. The front of your throat is branded with his sigil while a diamond pattern encircles your neck. It glows violet before disappearing altogether, a sacred collar invisible to mortal eyes. Thus, the pact has been formed.

♡ The next few minutes are calm. Pantalone’s scars are concealed once more. The two of you finish your tea. He takes a coin from his offering, now magically engraved with his sigil, and explains that you need only flip it to summon him. Then he offers one last smile, says he will look forward to your partnership, and disappears with the remaining coins.

♡ In the morning, you wake up to find bags of coins and jewels on the table, the exact amount needed to pay off your debts. Once the money has been given, you eagerly summon Pantalone to thank him. He merely smiles, leads you to your parents’ office, and tells you that the next step is to rebuild your family business. After all, while he can create material riches out of nothing, a mysterious source of wealth may attract the suspicion of your fellow humans.

♡ Soon enough, the company is flourishing under “your” authority. In reality, it is Pantalone who instructs your decisions and eliminates competitors. During meetings with clients, he attends in his invisible form and whispers to you the necessary responses. With success comes your return to high society, and Pantalone is all too happy to escort you to galas as your plus-one. His human form attracts several admirers, but his attention remains on you.

♡ He is also pleasant company. You can’t help but summon him often—your house feels empty without your parents. As for friends, you refuse to trust anyone after they turned their backs on you during your financial crisis. Pantalone is always nice about it, listening to your woes and participating in your hobbies. Once in a while, he will activate your pact mark and comment on how needy you are.

♡ He even fulfills your carnal desires. Over the months, Pantalone has toyed with your physical attraction towards him, teasing you with light touches, seductive whispers, sinful smiles…and a deep kiss when you shyly proposition him. That kiss is soon followed by heavy makeouts, long nights in your bed, physical marks all over your body. Greedy as he may be, he always makes sure to repay the pleasure you’ve given him.

♡ One night, you ask him about his divine nature. He confirms the popular belief that all demons are fallen angels; in his case, he was created for the Ninth Order, the lowest rank in the angel hierarchy. For the first century of his life, he could only settle for the inferior powers and duties assigned to his status. Neither could he enjoy the freedom which humans were born with.

♡ Thus, he set his sights on Hell. For angels are not created equal but demons can earn their powers through individual efforts. But leaving God always comes with a price, and Pantalone’s was paid in blood and tears.

⬩◈⬩

“Is that how you lost your wings?”

In the dark, your demon’s scars remain apparent. A pair of rough, featherless, ugly lines which you are careful not to touch, lest he flinch—from pain or shame? During your first night together, Pantalone refused to talk about it and you took the hint.

Even now, he flips over in your bed to hide his imperfections from you. When he answers your question, his voice takes on a light tone.

“Yes. It was God who ripped out my wings, and He even had the ‘mercy’ to cast them out of Heaven after me. But that was a long time ago, and I’ve since put my old feathers to good use.”

His capes, he means. They are his signature accessory, all crafted with sheer fabric, tiny jewels, and iridescent embroidery. Each cape is its own masterpiece, bearing fantastical images of God’s creations. It was during a casual conversation that Pantalone told you the threads were sourced from his old feathers.

He looks past you, and you know his gaze is on the coat rack. Tonight’s cape depicts a celestial paradise filled with winged figures. Beneath Heaven, separated by dark clouds, demonic figures descend into a fiery sky.

“Still, it must’ve been painful,” you tell him. Hesitantly, you add, “I mean, you didn’t only lose a body part that day. You also lost your former appearance, your ability to fly, your siblings—”

At that, a smile makes its way to his face. A large, genuine smile that isn’t directed at you.

“My former brethren were not dearly missed,” he replies. He sits up, combing the strands of hair tangled around his horns. “After I landed in Hell, I was taken in by an older demon. Let’s call her Jiejie, since she does not appreciate needless declarations of her true name. She is the one who treated my wounds, the one who cared for me using her own resources, the one who welcomed me into her home with open wings. And for that, I am eternally grateful.”

A soft breeze rustles the cape, threads glittering in the moonlight. Some threads, however, lack the iridescent quality of Pantalone’s feathers. Instead, they are silvery shades of black and gray.

His tone softens. “I will confess that I had an easy start in Hell thanks to her influence, as did Scaramouche who fell before me. But everything else—my contracts, my current status—are the fruits of my own labor. Perhaps someday, I may even reach Jiejie’s level of power.”

“I see…” You look into his eyes this time. “So what do she and that Scara demon specialize in? They sound nice; am I allowed to form pacts with them?”

“No.” He says it firmly, with no room for argument. Bare hands pull your body closer to his. “Even speaking as their brother, that sounds very unconscionable. Don’t get too greedy now.”

“Oh, I…okay!” you squeak. A faint violet light takes up your peripheral vision—your pact mark? “I’m sorry for asking. I’ll remember that.”

“Good.” His hand moves to your throat, tracing your sigil. When your eyes meet, his are bright with desire. “Never forget, you are mine first and foremost.”

⬩◈⬩

♡ In the following years, Pantalone grows more fond of you. Gifts begin to appear in your hands, from violet jewels to stylish garments. He accompanies you to more meetings with your fellow humans, his arm wrapped around your waist in a possessive gesture. His physical affection intensifies. On a few occasions, he even visits you despite not being summoned.

♡ It’s a nice change, but an overwhelming one. As time passes, you meet new friends and suitors, only to reject them after Pantalone claims to have glimpsed malice in their souls. Neither can you summon other demons, not when he is confiscating your demonological texts under the pretense that you’re too “impressionable” for another pact. And who can forget the time you were caught looking for information on the Tree of Life?

♡ It wasn’t your intention to seek a way out of your debt. It was by pure coincidence that you ran into the heretic who sold you the grimoire with information on Pantalone; and the conversation naturally shifted to the topic of your eternal damnation. Unsurprisingly, many humans have attempted to go back on their deals; and according to your “friend,” the best solution is to become immortal through the Tree of Life. You only asked them to contact you if they ever find the mythical tree, but that was enough to anger Pantalone.

“Do not lie to me, ______,” he snaps. His smile appears calm, but his tone sounds absolutely venomous. “I glimpsed your memories of last night, and I know you tried to violate our contract.”

“I…” You fearfully shake your head, only to cry as your throat constricts. It hurts, as though his sigil is burning your flesh, and your knees hit the floor. “I didn’t mean to…”

Your voice trails off. A gloved hand tilts your head upwards, forcing you to meet his death glare.

“Speak up, darling. My time is precious.”

♡ After that, you apologize and make no attempt to evade your fate. The next time Pantalone becomes angry, you at least have the luxury of not being the target of his emotions. It is a seemingly normal day, and you are served tea by a long-time servant. Suddenly, Pantalone appears and pulls you away from the individual, not bothering to hide his true form. When he tells the servant to “drop the act,” there is an indigo glint in their eyes.

♡ And that’s how you learn that the Puppeteer specializes in demonic possession. The servant’s body falls to the floor, unconscious, and it is Scaramouche’s turn to make himself known. He has asymmetrical horns, a single skeletal bat wing, and an expression which is far from friendly. A silvery black-and-gray feather dangles from the brooch pinned above his heart.

“Tell me, Scaramouche, what are your reasons for spying on my precious jewel?”

“Hmph, as if you need to ask. I just wanted to see if your little pet is worth Nee-san’s blessing. If you still desire them when that time comes, you’re on your own.”

♡ You don’t understand what they’re talking about, but it’s clear that you have no part in the conversation. After a few insults, Scaramouche leaves, but not without telling you to “know your place” in the future. That is when Pantalone sighs, pours a cup of tea for himself, tells you that it is none of your concern. Don’t worry, darling, he has it all under control. So just sit down, drink your tea, talk to him about anything under the sun. You still have a long life ahead of you, and he shall give you Heaven on earth until the day your heart ceases to beat.

♡ And perhaps if you are good enough, he will act on his desire to keep you as his pet in Hell. It’s been centuries since Pantalone has tortured a sinner, but he does know the best ways to break your mind. And is eternal suffering in his home not preferable to another demon laying their hands on you? At any rate, it’s not like you have any other choice.

“In the name of love, I will respect the contract between us and the fate you put in my hands.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Arlecchino

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving characters or dynamics not included in my masterlist.

Aahhh I hope y’all enjoyed my take on Demon! Pantalone!! He ended up with the most tame + lore-heavy fic, and I swear that the character of “Jiejie” will make more sense when I write the remaining stories for Church AU. Also, fun fact, Pantalone’s capes are inspired by Rusly Tjohnardi and Hieronymus Bosch’s triptychs~

Moving on, thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading this and supporting me through every step of writing hell. Now if y’all excuse me, I’m must avenge myself and whack Pantalone with the biggest cross I can find o(^▽^)o

Tag a Pantalone enjoyer!! @navxry @beloved-blaiddyd @leftdestiny-posts @meimeimeirin @euniveve @lychniis @teabutmakeitazure @stickyspeckledlight @mochinon-yah @zhongrin @harmonysanreads @oofasleep @theinnerunderrain @ddarker-dreams

#pantalone #yandere pantalone #yandere pantalone x reader #pantalone x reader #wanderer #yandere fatui harbingers #scaramouche #fatui x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: sh mention #spicy warning #mdni #g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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truths33k3r4 · 1 month

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List five things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last ten people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your followers, mutuals, and all the wonderful people on here! :D (feel free to ignore)

AWW POET!!!!! <3 Thank you so much for this ask!!!

It's always imperative to remember the blessings God has given to us in our lives <3

My salvation. ~ Jesus Christ died on the cross for my sins. He suffered so much pain, so much heartache, so much TORTURE. And He did it for me. He died for me so He could save me from my black heart. I will never be able to repay Him. I will never be able to thank Him enough. But what I CAN do, is thank Him for what He has done in my life and in my heart. <3

My friends. ~ All the connections I have made with people like me here. People who love TMNT, art, animating, writing stories, and so much more. People who have supported me, encouraged me, and guided me with my art, comic dubs, and story. <3

WRITING!! ~ Only until I started writing my journal did I see how much I enjoyed being an author. And then years later, here I am writing a TMNT Fan Story, "the Strength in Weakness". It's been challenging at times, but OH SO MUCH FUN TO MAKE. And so many people, my family, friends, and you, @poetique823, have listened to my ranting on it, critiqued my chapters and helped me better them, and supported me all the way. :) SO thank you <3

* breathes deeply * ...... CCCCCCHOOOCCCCOOOLLLLLAAAAAATTTTTTTEEEEEE

Having a cup of warm English Breakfast Tea on a cold morning, wrapped up in my cozy bathrobe, and typing away chatting with a friend. :)

Thanks for this ask, Poet!!! It was really nice to sit and think about these things.

~ Melissa

#C2G asks #what makes me happy :)#salvation story #Jesus Christ saved me #And I'll never be able to repay Him #But I will shout and sing about it till I die <3 #Tumblr Friends!! :)#Writing #CHOCOHOLIC AND PROUD #I love tea. it's delicate and makes me think I behave like a lady

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deepdrownlamentt · 10 months

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Hi hi! I love your writing so much so far, I’m always glad to see more Arknights love <3 is it possible to request a similar thing to your Elysium and Tequila date plans with Phantom?

Thank you so much and have a lovely day~

↬ phantom's date plans

content warnings: very very brief reference to death (the crimson troupe incident(tm))

note: hi anon, thanks so much you're so sweet!!! also I LOVEEEEE PHANTOM YES OFC!!!! he's been my assistant since i got him ........ thank you for giving me a valid excuse to scream over him ^_^ i hope you enjoy !!

↬ much like the rest of PHANTOM's subtle affections towards you — the lightest brush of his fingers against your cheek, or utterances of my love, my heart, spoken only into the short distance between his lips and yours — his ideal dates are simple, private affairs as well.

↬ if you ever want something more ostentatious, though, he's more than happy to indulge you; his role is your gallant suitor, so of course he has to play the part. he'll do whatever you want, take you wherever you like. perhaps you've been missing your hometown, or you've been wanting to visit some scenic countryside? he's at your beck and call, even outside of the battlefield; any trouble he goes through for you is worth it if he gets to see you smile, after all.

↬ that being said, while he might have a bit of a habit of letting you decide what you want to do (i'm never opposed to anything that will make you smile, he says), he often thinks about preparing you a candlelit dinner, or taking you somewhere quiet and dancing with you in silence. he'll spend some time making tea for you both, or coffee if you prefer, like the kind he used to order at that corner shop back in victoria. he'll pour you a cup, let his fingers linger over yours as he passes it to you, and then allow himself a smile reserved only for you — small, gentle, reverent.

↬ sometimes he laments how he can't do more for you, sometimes — that he doesn't deserve you after all he's done. his words can only stay words and never form melodies, and his eyes always flicker up to meet yours before his fingertips ever even graze your skin. but still, he loves moments like this with you the most, where he can be with you with no interruptions and press kisses against your knuckles, your cheeks, your forehead, your jaw.

↬ his song ended all of their lives, but there are stories where even murderers can seek redemption, aren't there? you speak his name like a prayer, and he thinks that maybe you were his salvation, all along.

#♡. writing | burial beyond the light.#arknights x reader #phantom x reader

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hyacinthoideshispanica · 1 year

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I just had an idea for a Feysand au.

Rhys and Feyre both went to art school and were rivals/Feyre hated him because one day after the first week or so, Feyre came into class and saw that Rhys had a small tattoo on his arm that looked similar to a sketch she had done a few days ago. She's so mad that she throws her shoe at him and accuses him of stealing her work. Rhys just shrugs it off and says he didn't steal her work, he was just inspired by it.

Years go by, and they've graduated. Feyre runs an art studio and is slowly making a name for herself. Rhys became a successful tattoo artist.

One day, they randomly run into each other, and the old rivalry sparks up again. Feyre announces that her work is about to be featured in a gallery show, and Rhys tells her that really popular celebrities have started booking appointments with him. They end up making a bet over who can become more famous in a certain amount of time. If Feyre wins, Rhys has to publicly admit that he stole her design all those years ago, and if Rhys wins, he gets to give Feyre a tattoo.

The deadline for their bet ends up being on the same night as the art show, and Feyre's confident she'll win, but then only a handful of people come because like, a block away, Rhys has two or three celebrities in his shop at once. So, basically, everyone in town is crowded around there.

Feyre's heartbroken and closes the show hours earlier than planned. Hours later, after a few glasses of wine, she marches down to Rhys's shop, planning on screaming at him for ruining the most important night of her life and maybe breaking the shop window or something but when she gets there, it's empty, dark and locked up. Feyre realizes it's midnight, and she just completely breaks down.

Rhys realized he had forgotten something at the shop, so he comes around the corner and just sees Feyre, on the ground just sobbing. He asks if she's alright, and she tells him to go to hell. He invites her inside because it's freezing and begrudgingly, she accepts. He makes her tea and asks why she was lurking in front of his shop so late. She explains he ruined her show, and Rhys is super confused because, "Feyre, your show is tomorrow night." She stubbornly tells him he's wrong. It was tonight, and it was a failure because of him.

Rhys pulls up an announcement of the show on his phone and shows her, and Feyre realizes that the wrong date had been put on it.

Rhys asks if she really thought he'd steal such an important night from her like that, and Feyre reminds him that he stole her work back in school.

Frustrated, Rhys rolls up the sleeve of his shirt and shows her the tattoo while also pulling up a screenshot of her own sketch. He points out the differences, and Feyre, now looking at the work side by side, realizes that, while Rhys was definitely inspired by her sketch, he had altered it to be uniquely his and hadn't actually stolen it.

"I told you back then, remember? I didn't steal your work, I was inspired by it. You inspire me."

He pulls out a portfolio full of sketches inspired by her own work, and he tells her that, apart from his own tattoo, he's never tattooed any of these designs. He's never even shown them to anyone else before.

Feyre: You have an entire portfolio of work you've never used. Why?

Rhys: I almost dropped out of school. I felt like I wasn't talented enough and was just wasting time and money like my father said I was, but then one day, I looked over, and there you were sketching. It was beautiful, you were beautiful and for the first time in a very long time I felt hope that I would succeed. So, after months of staring at blank paper, I finally drew something, and the end result was this. (He gestures to his tattoo) You're the reason I kept going Feyre, the reason I stayed with art and now have this shop. And now, whenever I start to doubt myself, I look at your work and feel inspired again. You're my salvation, Feyre. "

Feyre is stunned and starts crying. Rhys wipes her tears away, and they start kissing.

The next night, the gallery show is a huge success. Several celebrities come and purchase paintings, and a few of them introduce themselves to Feyre. Telling her that Rhys has been telling them about her work and how she's his muse for months now. Feyre goes to shake hands several times but, at the last minute, has to awkwardly switch from her left to her right because her left hand is currently wrapped up in plastic. Healing from the fresh tattoo Rhys gave her earlier that day after they spent the rest of the night together in Rhysand's apartment. It's a large piece, covering the tips of her fingers all the way up to her elbow, full of dark swirls. They designed it together.

Sorry this is so long. I don't have the talent to write a full fic, so if anyone wants to use this as a prompt, please feel free.

#acotar #feysand #feysand au #feyre archeron #rhysand #rhys and feyre #tattoo au #fic prompt #modern feysand au #modern acotar #acotar au

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69misato69 · 1 year

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Salvation (Zhongli x Xiao) ✦ smut, 4k

archive of our own ✦ twitter ✦ masterlist

pre-canon, zhongli early archon days, master/servant dynamics, calling upon adeptus xiao accidentally during inappropriate times

it should be obvious but this is romantic zhongxiao, not familial or platonic. thank you in advance for keeping it respectful (: enjoy!

cw: blood (non-graphic), blowjobs, unprotected sex, ejaculation, overall heavy sexual themes

writer's note: explicit +18 content, please view at your own risk. thank you, have fun !

The moon sets over the hills of Liyue. An adeptus, lonely, awake as the entire nation rests, he stands at a mountaintop, gazing down as the breeze surrounds him. It runs through his hair, the moonlight illuminates his face, silence other than all that haunts him from within.

Though he never feels at peace, he feels calm.

A voice reaches from the depths, it creeps up, grazes against his mind.

“Xiao…”

A faint call.

“Xiao…”

Again.

“Xiao…”

And again.

The voice is weak, coated with despair.

He recognizes his lord, calling upon him in agony.

A viridescent flash, and Xiao finds him in Morax’s room within the span of a second. He examines the surroundings for any sign of danger, a disturbance, an intrusion.

Yet, there seems to be none. Nothing but his master, lying peacefully on his bed.

He is in a state of deep rest, painting a confused look on Xiao’s face.

How could he have mistaken someone else’s voice for him?

It’s disgraceful, shameful, puzzling even. But just as he turns away, he hears the call again.

“Xiao…”

Xiao turns around, noticing Morax shift on the bed with the yaksha’s name between his lips.

Again and again, his voice grows even needier as Xiao watches in utter shock.

Until he sighs. A long exhale vibrates in Xiao’s skull and Morax settles down again.

He feels frozen in place. He must leave. The burden of witnessing something he shouldn’t have weighs heavy on his chest.

It feels awfully personal, like accidentally walking in on someone changing.

Invading one’s privacy at a moment most vulnerable.

But Xiao is unable to move.

Though the call is gone, it still rings in his ears. Out of all the times he has heard Morax utter his name, this one turns him so unbelievably soft, feral and curious at the same time.

The name that Morax blessed him with, laced with his new-found freedom, a new life where he can serve someone that fights for the beauty of their world. A path of light that contrasts his thousand-year-old darkness.

It’s always been personal.

Everytime someone calls on Xiao, he hears it through the echo of Morax’s voice first.

A new master that has granted him a second chance.

Xiao musters up the strength to glance at him a final time before disappearing into the shadows.

He awaits the morning, one of the longest waits he ever had to endure.

Though, when it comes, everything seems perfectly fine, ordinary is an overstatement.

“Good morning, Xiao.” Morax greets him as always.

Xiao feels blood rush to his cheeks.

“Good morning, my lord.” he bows slightly.

Morax hums, getting back to his tea and the book in his hand. Xiao sits across from him, silent, almost as if he is transparent. He spends a considerable amount of his mornings with Morax, usually sitting idly by like a cat.

Xiao is always extra careful not to disturb him, until Morax closes his book and directs his attention at the yaksha with a soft smile.

“Could I be of any assistance to you, today?” Xiao looks up at him.

“Let’s see…” he takes a second to evaluate, “I have a few important visits planned, if you wouldn’t mind keeping me company?”

Xiao nods. Though decades pass, he never gets used to how his lord voices his thoughts as requests.

Would you mind, if you would like to, if you have time to spare…

To Xiao, everything that leaves his mouth is an order, an absolute, failing to fulfill it is worse than death itself.

But Morax always phrases it so casually. A no from Xiao one day would certainly surprise him, but most likely he would be understanding of it.

Upon Xiao’s confirmation, he gets up from his seat, setting the course for a series of tiring visits to other abodes and into the city. Xiao tags along, running the necessary errands, guarding his lord, looking out for danger as they get through the events of the day one by one.

As they return home, Morax looks at him with a kind gaze.

“Thank you, Xiao. You have been a great help as always.”

Xiao bows his head, his body hurts from tensing up all day. Every time Morax turns to ask him a question he feels a bit light-headed, worried that it might be about last night.

What if he has sensed Xiao’s presence?

But, even at the end of the day as they are alone, he shows no signs of being aware of the happenings of the previous night.

Xiao leaves, relieved. He spends the night doing his master’s bidding as always, clearing his mind to the best of his ability.

But just as he settles into his corner, he hears it again.

“Xiao…”

His heart skips a beat.

The morning draws near as he debates his next course of action.

He can’t simply ignore his call. It’s disrespectful and out of the question.

But, on the other hand, he already knows why his name is being called out.

The thought of witnessing more of it, Xiao worries. He doesn’t get to reciprocate Morax’s feelings. He can’t allow himself to succumb into unchaste thoughts about the being he respects the most.

It stains his worship, breaks his resolve.

Soon enough, Xiao no longer has to make a choice, because the voice quiets down again. He looks up at the stars fading away from the night sky.

Xiao witnesses the same thing a handful of times in the following week, not every night like clockwork, but that only makes it worse.

It’s unpredictable, sometimes a few quiet nights followed by his call again at a moment most unexpected.

During the days, however, it is as if nothing has happened.

Morax sticks to his routine, how he chats with Xiao and his fellow adepti remain the same. He works and unwinds, he calls upon Xiao with certain tasks and thanks him genuinely after they are completed.

So normal that it drives Xiao insane.

After the sun sets, he sits and waits patiently, and after uneventful nights, when the sun rises again, Xiao realizes that he feels a bit disappointed.

Not that he does anything but crumble in place when it happens, but he feels dependent on it, finding a strange, familiar and satisfying joy in restraining himself. It feels like a test he is passing, even when Morax himself is unaware of holding.

But, Xiao has limits.

A breaking point.

And he nears it on one of those nights as Morax calls out for him, needier than ever. A slight crack in his voice that pains Xiao as he wallows in helplessness, being the very thing that could soothe his lord at the moment, but lacking the courage to do so.

“Xiao…”

His eyes widen, a flutter in his chest, no matter how much he denies it.

A fire in his belly that warms up his entire body, it turns him red up to his ears.

It’s blasphemy.

But Xiao can’t help it as his hand travels inside the fabric.

His fingers move lightly over himself as his lord’s moans fill his ears.

It’s lewd, but godly, heavenly, Xiao feels his soul transcend higher and higher.

He feels whole, and holy. Complete.

He feels like a sinner, but what sinner would be blessed with such delight?

Xiao can’t help himself, his head rolls back, mouth parted with breathy moans, until a name escapes him.

“Morax…”

Tears pool around his eyes.

“Xiao…”

Xiao bites down on his bottom lip. He can’t. It’s too much. His state is dire enough as it is, and if he keeps—

“Morax…”

It’s no use. He squirms for his master, in secret.

Though they moan for each other, it is only Xiao that knows it. He feels close as they exchange each other’s names over and over again.

Until, he feels a shift in the voice that answers him.

“Xiao?”

He sounds awake, conscious. It’s a question this time.

Xiao falters, he retracts his hand immediately.

“Is something wrong?”

Xiao shakes his head and quickly collects himself before appearing in Morax’s chambers once again.

He seems worried.

His eyes wander around Xiao’s body, inspecting it for signs of injury and luckily spotting none.

Xiao knows he seems thrown off, shaky as he walks over to the bed and kneels right in front of him.

He can’t take it any longer. He wants to know, he has to.

Morax watches him settle down, recognizing the hesitation. The few minutes Xiao always takes before speaking of an important matter. He calculates, picks his words out of a cluttered bubble and drags them down. And he always waits patiently, offering him a comfortable silence.

“My lord…” Xiao finally looks up at him, “I listen to you, call for me. Almost every night.”

His master looks mesmerizing even with drowsy eyes and disheveled golden-brown locks that fall upon his visage.

“I visit you, but you always seem to be… dreaming.” Xiao’s hands shake as he holds Morax’s inside his palm, “Am I deserving to know what it is that you desire?”

Morax frees his hand to cup Xiao’s cheek. He treats it as a trivial matter, as if it hasn't been driving Xiao out of his mind.

“Apologies for disturbing you, dear Xiao. You needn’t worry yourself with this.”

Xiao leans into his palm, amazed at the wonders that his touch works.

An apology is the last thing he needs when it isn’t even remotely a disturbance. Every desperate night Xiao prays to Rex Lapis to soothe his worries, only to be embraced by a warm light, to instantly feel a soft touch upon his cheek.

The hand that reaches for him every time he drowns in despair.

He needs no apology from Morax.

“I swore an oath to you, my lord. I am your trusted weapon, your humble servant. It is my duty, not a disturbance.” he looks up with glossy eyes that meet the comforting amber pupils.

“Wherever you may need me, on the battlefield or in here, I… can fulfill your every need. But I can’t bear to watch it helplessly.”

Morax’s brows raise, Xiao is a man of few words, especially with him. Concise and precise. Yet, he goes on this time.

“What you long for, you already have. It has been your loyal subject ever since you guided its lost soul back home.”

Morax seems moved at the confession. What Xiao makes him feel with his actions finally lingers in the air between them with his words.

Morax’s hand trails down as his thumb brushes against the yaksha’s chin. His fingers softly move over his neck, sending a shiver down Xiao’s spine.

He stands up, and Morax guides him to his lap.

Xiao feels uneasy, not because of the position, but because he feels like he is being evaluated.

Morax examines him, buries his nose in Xiao’s skin to revel in his scent as his hands roam his shoulders and his waist. He fails to understand, and fights the urge to reach up and touch him.

“Why do you hold back, Xiao?”

Xiao realizes he has been holding his breath for too long. He lets out a sharp exhale.

He has to hold back, because it’s sacrilege.

Profane and irreverent to let himself take pleasure in this. It’s an act of service, a token of his undying devotion and it shall serve as nothing but that.

“Because this is an offering, correct?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Do you think you are not allowed to enjoy it?”

Xiao stays silent as a kiss is pressed onto his neck.

He catches on fire even from a gentle peck, his vision blurs as more kisses follow.

“I see. That won’t do, unfortunately.”

The lips leave his skin abruptly.

“I—I don’t follow, my lord?” Xiao searches his expression for a reason.

“If it is an offering you aim for, you must be willing to give it all.”

“I am.”

“No, my dear Xiao, you aren’t.” Morax’s hands roam his thighs, “You fight for control.”

He gives them a light squeeze, “I can sense your restraints, what you don’t allow yourself to do.”

The softness has yielded its place to Xiao’s contracted, rock hard muscles.

“It’s… artificial, you see? So much tension. It’s certainly not how you were touching yourself minutes ago.”

He holds back a gasp.

“I am not interested in fulfilling meaningless desires with you, Xiao. You are different, truly special to me.”

With every word, Xiao wants to touch him more. He yearns for the lips that slid over his neck a minute ago.

“You deserve so much more than what this offering entails.” Morax holds his face, “Therefore, I must reject it, until you need me like I need you.”

Xiao gulps as their faces draw closer.

Morax whispers over his mouth before leaving his first and last kiss over Xiao’s lips, at least for this night—

“Should the day ever come that you beg me to have you, then, and only then, I would.”

Xiao breaths in, wide-eyed and dazed.

“I—understand, my lord.” he stutters, failing to help himself as his fingers reach up to his lips, right where Morax just brushed against.

“Good. You are welcome to rest here.” he smiles. A bittersweet feeling takes over his heart, now more than ever, he sees how insignificant Xiao sees himself.

Nothing but a vessel, a mere tool, a weapon as he has phrased it.

Morax promises himself that when Xiao is ready to see it, he will show the yaksha his worth.

“Thank you, but I shall depart. I wish you a good night.”

Xiao prepares to leave. He seems lost in thought, mind preoccupied with Morax’s words.

“To you as well, Xiao.”

Xiao spends the next few days reflecting upon that night, trying to decipher what his master told him. It’s hard to relive the events without his thighs trembling and his heart racing loud enough to ache his ribs.

He sits on the same mountaintop, rubbing his temples.

Why does it still feel so wrong? Still so forbidden even after his master has explicitly advised him to unpack his desires.

You deserve so much more.

Does he?

He doesn’t mind fulfilling the desires that Morax deems beneath him. He doesn’t mind restraining himself, being a selfless servant.

Except it’s not selfless. It’s an act as selfish as the mortals pretending to live an honest life for Rex Lapis even though they are ridden with filth. Denying it doesn’t make them any less selfish.

Xiao trying to maintain his integrity by denying both of them something holy, is it any different?

He begins to understand.

Morax didn’t free him only for him to be placed within the confines of his own mind.

A new, different prison, regardless, a prison still.

Xiao squirms, feeling a blissful corruption penetrate his body and mind from every angle.

He mourns the loss of Morax’s touch, a ghost of him still has fingers lingering around his waist and on his neck.

Xiao finally understands what he meant that night.

Until you need me like I need you.

He frees himself of the shackles binding his mind. The more he yanks them loose, he grows weaker and weaker.

A soldier’s resolve transforms into a retainer’s loyalty.

Without realizing, he finds himself at a familiar spot, knelt by Morax’s bed.

Only this time, tears stream down his face. Xiao fails to understand why, but his master pulls him into a tight embrace. He kisses away the salty tears until Xiao’s damp cheeks dry up.

Comfort and warmth.

Morax gives him strength, yet turns him into such a weak creature.

“Please, my lord…” he whispers as their foreheads meet, “Take me.”

Xiao sinks deeper on his lap, “I promise to prove my worth to you, and myself, as long as I live and breathe.”

Soothing rubs are left all over his back until Xiao finds the courage to look up into his master’s eyes.

“I finally see the folly in what I offered. But now… Now I know what you meant. I long for you… the way you long for me. You must—feel it. Please… tell me, I beg.”

Xiao’s voice cracks, he feels found, almost. The balance still feels so sensitive, like it could fall apart at any moment.

The heat that emits from his body, the sincerity of his words and the rawness of his tone.

Of course Morax feels it. It’s a delight, seeing Xiao so genuine. Even though it can’t be labeled as ‘demanding’ by definition, it is the most demanding Xiao has ever been with his master.

Morax holds the hand that rests on his shoulder, silent. He presses his lips in Xiao’s inner wrist, peppering kisses all along, inside his palm, on the tips of his fingers.

Xiao sighs in relief, it’s a confirmation.

“My dear Xiao,” Morax gently rids him of his clothes, “I have had the pleasure of knowing you for centuries, yet you continue to amaze me every single day.”

Xiao looks down on his bare chest, seeing slender fingers move along it, fingertips that tease his nipples. The sight alone is enough to make him hiss.

He looks up again, finding Morax examining the marks and scars sprinkled over his skin.

He remembers how each one was formed, he remembers tending to Xiao and bandaging the deep slits of gush and blood after each battle.

And now, he watches him carry them like the true warrior that he is.

Xiao’s back arches as he leans forward.

Morax doesn’t make him wait any longer. His lips claim the yaksha’s into a heated kiss.

Though it takes him a while to respond, Xiao soon wraps his arms around Morax’s neck, leaning into his lips, licking into his mouth curiously.

He doesn’t notice how he lightly grinds against his crotch as strong hands roam his upper body. They travel down to his thighs, palming his erection over the final piece of fabric that keeps them apart.

Morax finally slides the robe off his shoulders and the underwear off of Xiao’s legs.

He settles back down, gasping at how the tip of his cock brushes against his master’s stomach.

It is a divine feeling to sit skin-to-skin with him, to feel his arms envelope him and push him down. Xiao can’t seem to catch his breath as Morax drinks up his moans.

He feels his back meet the mattress with two hands parting his legs.

Xiao’s eyes widen. Kisses trail from his mouth, down to his chest and over to his groin.

“My lord—you—don’t have to… Hah…” Xiao feels a lightning bolt creep up his spine as Morax’s tongue laps over his tip.

Being above him, holding him between his legs, Xiao doesn’t know what to feel about it. After a few licks, he feels his body weigh heavier and heavier, he unintentionally spreads his legs wider, accommodating his master’s movements.

Morax’s lips wrap around him fully, working their way down to the base.

Xiao gives in, he was the one that asked Morax to take him, after all.

He throws his head back, gently petting his master’s hair as he holds onto Xiao’s thighs. Muffled, seraphic moans escape him every time he takes Xiao all the way back into his throat.

A yaksha writhing under his god.

Morax takes his time, exploring every inch and abusing every sweet spot with his tongue to reel out sweet noises from Xiao’s lips.

As his tip stabs the back of his throat, squeezed within the tight space, Xiao can’t help but yank on the strands of hair within his grasp with a deep groan.

He retracts his hands, stuttering an apology, soaked in embarrassment, but Morax guides his hands back into his hair without an interruption.

His movements become harsher, eager to draw pleasure from Xiao while he pulls on the soft, silky locks. He twirls them around his fingers, allowing lust to overtake his senses as everything else around them phases out of existence.

Nothing left but the warm, inviting lips that engulf him and the final twitches before he spills down Morax’s throat.

Xiao’s chest heaves, tears pool around his eyes as Morax swallows in delight and cleans him up thoroughly. He moves to hover over Xiao’s body, trembling with pleasure.

He takes his time calming Xiao down with gentle pets along his cheek, pressing a loving kiss on his forehead as his hand circles around his hole.

Xiao whimpers, there’s a lot that he wants to say, to compliment the being that looks down at him affectionately. Xiao wants to tell him how beautiful he is. Ethereal, mesmerizing to the extent that even a single glance from him is enough to make his heart race.

Unfortunately, words elude him.

He reaches up to shakily cup Morax’s cheek, eliciting a light chuckle. Xiao appreciates how it lightens the atmosphere and pulls his heart back into his chest.

A finger slides inside him, so gentle, as if Morax is handling something so fragile and delicate and not the Conqueror of Demons.

It’s enough to make him swoon, his insides squirm as a second finger joins, thrusting in and out of him, now more accelerated.

Xiao huffs short breaths, expectant for more, yet enjoying it too much to move on.

He involuntarily whines when Morax retracts his fingers, earning a chuckle once again.

“Patience, my beloved Xiao.” he lines up with the yaksha’s entrance, “Keep this up for me, okay? You’re perfect.”

“Yes, my lord. Thank you.” Xiao averts his gaze.

Perfect? He feels far from it. All he feels is deeply flawed.

The voices he had suppressed all his life, if he had made the fatal mistake of letting them speak up, they would eat him alive.

But, perfect, in the eyes of his master.

It’s enough to silence everything else, and Morax certainly notices the reaction he attempts to hide.

“Take a deep breath.” he coos, and he pushes in as Xiao fills his lungs to the brim.

He holds the yaksha close, moving inside him carefully until he reaches the base. He falls static, looking down to feast on how well Xiao takes him, walls tightly sucking him up and limbs completely relaxed.

Certainly a lot different than the first time he attempted it.

“Beautiful.” Morax turns his gaze to the blissful look on Xiao’s face again.

The moonlight surfaces the blushing of his cheeks.

Morax has a general idea of how Xiao sees himself, and whenever he gets a taste of his inner hatred, he can’t help but disagree.

Because to him, Xiao is magnificent.

Still pure as a cold stream that flows to meet the sea, adopting the impurities of the dirt he carries along as his own.

It is simply untrue, now as Xiao lays in his arms, free of the filth that he has been cursed with, even for a short while, he is light itself.

Cannot be replaced or replicated, he shines so bright, so effortlessly as the sun itself, and as mysteriously as the moon.

A ray that strikes Morax’s soul, it has him melting away just as Xiao does under him.

They crumble together while Morax pushes him into the mattress and pulls away with wet noises mixed in with desperate moans.

Xiao feels his claws penetrate the sheets, knuckles turning white from the strain.

“Hold onto me instead.”

I wouldn’t dare sever you, my lord, Xiao wants to say, you mustn’t bleed by my hands.

But “Claws…” is all that leaves his mouth. Short and simple, all that he is capable of at the moment.

Zhongli digs his own into Xiao’s hips, “Marks laid by you, I would cherish them until my very last breath.”

Xiao feels light-headed in the best way possible. He holds onto Morax’s shoulders, digging his sharp claws into his skin that now shines with golden markings.

Morax growls and slams into him even harder, creating a vicious cycle of deeper stabs and stronger thrusts.

A cycle that leaves both of them grunting between passionate, sloppy kisses.

Blood seeps from the cracks Xiao creates as a hand wraps around his cock swiftly.

Xiao notices the thrown-off rhythm, patiently awaiting Morax's release.

He looks up peacefully as an indelible warmth settles deep inside him.

"Morax..."

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