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superstarz9 · 8 months ago

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So y’all fw some MORE Mr. Puzzles headcanons?

Cause I got some :]

Even though he streams his content, Mr. Puzzles hates streaming over normal television and believes it ruins the momentum. The only thing he appreciates about streaming is the lack of ads. No matter how bad the ratings are, Puzzlevision is an ad-free service!

To add, product placement is a no-go. Any products he might advertise on a show are all Puzzlevision branded, not that he’d advertise much. He’s a smart business man, which I’ll go in-depth with another time.

He’s all about authenticity with his actors an really hates big-time celebrities. Celebrities are snobbish and aren’t easy for Puzzles to handle. He also doesn’t want people to engage with his shows solely because of famous names. The day he hires a celebrity is the day he becomes a sellout, and the idea of selling out terrifies him.

Mr. Puzzles does an extensive background check of every single cast member he recruits. Not just because he’s trying to find the perfect actors, but because he’s trying to find people that wont be missed if they mysteriously disappear for long periods of time. After a cast’s likability begin to dwindle, Puzzles brings them back as if nothing happened. Previous cast members won’t remember their time at Puzzlevision and have a hazy memory for a bit before they adjust to normal. If they watch a show that they’ve been in, they’re so disconnected from the show that they won’t recognize themselves. However, Puzzles is careful to avoid reruns after switching casts.

He absolutely hates reality tv for multiple reasons. It’s the farthest thing from reality, everything is so fake, and the writing is HORRIBLE! If the audience demands it, he’ll make a reality tv show, but it would be one of the few things he wouldn’t mind not hitting 5 stars. The less creative impact he has on the show, the less he cares for it.

He prefers live-action over animation, but highly respects animated shows.

He likes movies but heavily prefers tv since television has always been frowned upon within Hollywood and the entertainment industry (It’s actually interesting to know the beef between movie studios and tv, I recommend checking it out. To put in into perspective, picture the Disney theatre movies vs the straight to video movies: there’s a huge difference and it’s somewhat obvious of the cash-grab tv movies/shows are. The purpose of tv has always been a quick cash grab, actually. Kinda like the first content farm, to an extent). Puzzles wants to prove that television is a respectable media outlet and shouldn’t be frowned upon within the industry.

He is familiar with almost any televised language. The only major issue is that, yes, he needs subtitles to completely understand. However, he can hold a relatively decent conversation in most languages, he’d just need a few refreshers.

Already talked about it last post but he likes to cook and really enjoys cooking/baking shows. Y’know that thing where you’re good at one but not as good at the other cause they’re so different (you cook to your liking vs following a strict recipe for the best dessert outcome)? I feel like Puzzles would be perfect at baking alone but any baking show he does goes to absolute shit. However, he’s not as great at cooking alone (since he can’t taste) but it much better with a sous-chef guiding him.

This was someone else’s hc (I don’t remember who’s, I’m srry), but they brought up that the order of shows Mr. Puzzles makes with the SMG4 crew reflect the shows he watched growing up (the kids-y shows, family disney-type movies, teen stuff like Scooby-doo, and gameshows). I’d like to add that he enjoys making gameshows the most because he can be the main character in every episode, and everyone’s reactions are the most genuine. The only thing I can see Puzzles not liking is the lack of creativity (similar to reality tv). However, it would be pretty fitting for a production company called Puzzlevision to make game shows.

This one’s gonna be a little bit more depressing. No matter how hard he tries or how good he thinks his writing is, Mr. Puzzles cannot write anything original. It’s the curse of seeing every piece of televised media to ever be produced. He tries his best to be original but as the puzzlevision arc continues, he gradually stops trying to be original, which is what ultimately causes him to lose. While Puzzles keeps trying to copy other successful media and failing, it’s the originality the SMG4 crew produce that gets them to 5 stars (and extremely quickly, too). Puzzles fails to realize that the shows he loves and tries to replicate were original, too, and that’s what got them to succeed in the first place. I feel like this success from SMG4’s originality is what sparked Mr. Puzzles’ envy in the first place.

To add to this, Puzzles has been canonically spying and interfering with the SMG4 crew for a while (selling them the showgrounds, the cursed keyboard in the ITS GOTTA BE PERFECT arc, the Western Spaghetti arc), and is almost a direct parallel to SMG4. They both was to succeed and produce original content, striving for perfection. The only major difference is that Mr. Puzzles has been alone for the majority of his life whereas SMG4 has his crew. Despite this, however, SMG4 still snaps and isolates himself similarly to how Puzzles takes complete creative control.

Not having a proper friend/support group is also what causes Puzzles to fail, isolating himself from the rest of the world. Even though we don’t see much of the studio, it’s still pretty run down and barren, implying that Puzzles doesn’t spend much time there, if at all. Puzzles spends most of his time in the shows, directing/acting/ect, and avoiding the real world where he doesn’t have control. When he’s in the real world and bored, he dissociates a lot, planning out his next big projects.

To add, he’s not a big fan of modern technology as a whole, and sticks to older tech (like the older computer model in the teaser between the scooby episode and the gameshow episode and his head being an older computer). Same goes for the studio. I can totally see him walking into the decrepit building with the real estate agent being like “this building hasn’t seen the light of day since 200 b.c,” and Mr. Puzzles ecstatically goes “I’ll TAKE IT!” He’d also do his own renovations and film it for an abandoned house-flipping series, scrapping it later because he sucks at renovating.

He can’t take constructive criticism if his life depended on it. He tries, but all he thinks is “well these people just don’t understand TRUE art in this world!”

He can play shows/movies in the back of his mind whenever, and often does if he’s not on set. Y’know that reddit/tumblr post about the kid who memorized Shrek so much that he could just watch it from memory and his dad would catch him at the 37:14 mark and be like “stop watching shrek and go to bed,”? Yeah, Puzzles is like that. Only difference is that he can’t pause it, only tune it out.

He’ll watch them, but found-family sit-coms depress him. Shows like Friends, It’s Always Sunny in Philly, etc remind him of what his life could’ve been if he could’ve made friends properly.

To add to this, y’know how he projects himself in his shows? What if he did that with shows like Friends, where he’s a part of the cast and laughing along. He’d do it in his sleep and not even realize it’s a dream until the episode ends and he wakes up alone. :,]

On a lighter note, older tvs release a light frequency that gets louder the older it gets. Mr. Puzzles probably hums a frequency without realizing it that people can only hear if they’re close and he isn’t babbling away. Older tvs also kinds adjust(?) where they slightly creek a lil. Mr. Puzzles probably does, to, and it’s the equivalent of him cracking his neck.

He’s also more prone to shock people slightly, depending on how manic he is. If he rubs his gloves together he’s practically a battery.

He has a daily care routine that involves him carefully wiping his screen with windex.

These ones are more show/content based. If these continue to do well I’ll post some more general and maybe relationship hcs :]. If you guys have any suggestions/questions/critiques please let me know!

#mr puzzles #smg4 puzzlevision #headcanons #mr puzzles headcanons #puzzlevision

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royal-writer · 6 years ago

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I Get to Love you

It's a promise I'm making to you: Whatever may come, Your heart I will choose Forever I'm yours Forever I do

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Another descriptive ns/fw piece with mild dirty talk and consensual very tame light bdsm. Basically Essamon is some horny bastards and I want to experiment with my style some more. Whoops.

Gods, she wished he’d stop pacing in front of her like that. He smelled like distractions; deep woody fragrances, leather, just a fine hint of jasmine and coriander. The seductive aroma wafting off of her husband had her lifting her head as he moved around the room like a caged animal. He’d pitch another log into the chimney stack; momentarily disguising his cologne with the smell of smoke, and then be on the move again. Account books were left stacked on the desk and coffee table with each round, set down with a steady hand. Letters from townsfolk and other territories addressed to them folded over everything in a cascading mountain of articles.

She tisked as he made to pass her again, careful to scoot her paperwork to the side so they wouldn’t be blown off. “Feeling cooped up today, m’lord?” Her hand flattened the parchment that contained a census of the current food stores as she glanced up at him, catching the deep sigh radiating in his chest. Her gaze softened at the frustrated sound, murmuring gently, “Perhaps a break is in order? We could share a snack, or check on if the garden needs tending? I could look over those ledgers for you, if you’d like to step out and stretch your legs? A bit of sword practice, or a walk maybe?”

He snorted with discontent. Changing his walking pattern; which really by now should have left a worn path in the floor, the nobleman skirted between the low table and the sofa to sink down beside her. He expelled a dejected rush of air, dropping his face in his hands as she reached out to him.

“Poor dear,” Essätha comforted, kneading her hands into taut shoulders and down his back. Goodness he was mouth-watering. She wanted to sink her teeth into him; picking up the faint spicy cinnamon she hadn’t noticed before in his after shave. He flexed beneath her touch a few times; the rippling bands of muscles in his back and arms firm beneath her grazing fingertips. He had such a fine sculpted figure; not built like bulky cold marble or too yielding and soft. He was strong in all the right ways, inside and out.

Grabbing the lining of his cloak, she guided the fabric off of his shoulders as he shrugged leisurely to help her. His arms rolled backwards, dumping the apparel onto the couch. She could feel the question of his glance moving to observe her, the onyx of his pupils, the ocean of his iris. She ignored his unasked inquiry to slide her hands beneath the collar of his navy jerkin; palms working against his shoulders in hard circular motions and fingers dipping into his undershirt. Her nails left crests and grooves as they dug into his flesh.

Amon hummed deep in his throat with appreciation. His body shifted; turning from the waist and then scooting across the cushions to better face her. All the while her hands worked; rubbing and palpating into the tension of his body. From his shoulders, alongside his neck, down to his shoulderblades and up again. The stiff fabric of his clothing kept her from sliding her hands further down arms to tease him, much as she wanted to.

“You need rest,” she chided with an unhappy frown. His tension was beginning to evaporate beneath her fingers, easing the strain and pressure in his muscles tight with stress. Essie squinted into his face, watching slowly as the creases of concentration began to magically disappear. His jaw went slack; mouth parting slightly as he dragged air into his nose, and out of his mouth gradually in a relaxed breathing exercise. She grinned with triumph, leaning in to press a kiss against his open-mouth. He startled; grunting as she pulled away with a mischievous giggle.

He reached for her. His eyes darting from her butterscotch golden brown down to her mouth, over her throat, and to her braid which he picked up where it lay on her shoulder. He rubbed the coils between his rough fingers periodically. His gaze was blazing as he returned it back to her face, leaning in close to breathe, “I don’t need rest. I just need you.”

She glided her tongue over her lips slowly. “Sly move,” the noblewoman purred, slithering her hands from beneath his doublet towards his chest. Gods, she was hoping he’d say that. A fiery bolt of intense need shot straight through her loins. With proficient hands, she steadily undid each of the fasteners of his jacket while her touch whispered over him. His jaw clenched in response; adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Hungry but patient, he dropped the tresses of her hair to stroke his broad hands from the nape of her neck down. Light against her waist, rounding her hips, and urging her into his lap.

A heated moan passed his lips. Amon groped her rear, pushing her hungrily forward into the tenting of his slacks. Her sigh came out shaky with desperation as the last clasp snapped open beneath her fingers. Her mind was flying through a turbulent storms; strikes of electricity sizzling through her bones and crackling in her veins. Her breathing hitched as she twisted and turned, panting heavily through a foggy cloud of yearning.

He was an addiction. Intoxicating. The Lord of the Emerald Expanse didn’t need to do anything to garner her attention or spark her appetite. She always wanted him in some fashion. His voice; steady, calm, profound. It was rich like chocolate but could be deep and rumbling as an approaching twister. Intense. His breath, curling the hair against her neck as he exhaled close to her ear. She shivered in response; goosebumps breaking out everywhere. The taste of him; the salt of his skin and texture beneath her mouth that was just him.

And oh gods the feel of him. There was so much to feel, so many edges and hollows she imprinted to memory. The places she could touch that drove him crazy. Tickle his ribcage, slid her digits over hills and down dips and across slants, grip his study limbs, fondle him everywhere. Her heart raced for him even now. The calluses of his hands on her ass, the prick of his teeth grazing her neck, the hair on his chest which she smothered and plundered over as she untucked his shirt. She wanted it all. Every delectable piece of him, always. Her dashing Amon; so handsome, so gentle and polite.

He made her feel alive and worthwhile. He made her feel more then what she was, and what she was capable of. He made her feel attractive at her worst. He believed in her, even when she’d forgotten how. Even when no one else did. He was certainly a sexy man with plenty of attractive qualities, but even the most beautiful man couldn’t keep her heart if it wasn’t for what reflected inside. Amon had values and morals. He was dignified, respectable, chivalrous, and honorable. He was courteous and patient, gentle and brilliant. There was so much beneath the surface of his valiant heroism. He was sensitive, a bit scarred, and perhaps not always as fearless as you could believe. But he was courageous and steadfast; ultimately the most authentic and bravest, most loving beautiful soul she’d ever met.

Even now, grinding his length into her center and sucking on her neck, his action was tender consideration. He could fuck her hard into the sheets until she went cross-eyed and her lungs burned and felt ready to collapse, and he’d still be thoughtful and gentle. Whispering to her sweet nothings, holding her close, seeing to her pleasure and kissing her slowly with satisfaction as they rolled around tiredly when all was done. Everything would feel sore and slick with a crazy dull ache and he’d touch her everywhere; strumming her heartstrings, easing her cramps, soothing her into a peaceful slumber nestled against him.

“Ooohh Amon,” she sighed, gyrating her hips encouragingly against him as he left a dark hickey against her hairline. Her hands were too eager to explore the canvas of his chest. A piece of chiseled craftsmanship. With jerks and tugs at buttons, she opened up his button-up and shoved at his arms. Marvelously receptive and submissive, Amon let go of her ass long enough to allow her peel of his collared shirt and undershirt. She wasted no time in excavating her discovery.

He hissed through clenched teeth sharply as she lapped her tongue over his nipple. With a sassy smile; all bravado and brazen, she repeated the gesture until he grunted, a string of elvish fizzling out. Essie could make out some of it; the fragments of words of endearments and cherished love and lust, but it was difficult to understand in the deep guttural tone. She crooned with appreciation, enjoying his response so much that she scraped a fang against the tip in hopes of hearing it once more, circling her hips back to brush against his.

Another sharp intake. She smirked, roaming her feather-light grazing touch over his chest. His muscles flexed in response. The soft curls of his chest hair beneath her touch and rigid structure of him. Her digits moved lower, inspecting the denser trail that lead beneath his pants. Amon’s breath quickened, rushing against her as she drew his nipple into her mouth to taste him.

“Essätha, Essätha,” he chanted weakly. “Essätha, darling…” With a helpless groan, he pushed his hard-on into her palm. Her lips sucked harder upon his skin and he bucked, a gravely low sound cutting through him and vibrating through his chest. She laughed breathlessly against him, placing tender kisses gently against his torso. Her thumb worked lazily on the strapping of his belt, and her other hand traced the shape of his arms, following the shape of his back, pinching his nipple gently as she moved on scrap her teeth against his other nipple and start again.

Amon’s head fell back roughly against the back of the sofa. Both hands found their way to her bottom and he squeezed her roughly, writhing beneath her touch as she kissed and circled his nipple. She flicked the tip with her tongue and he curved towards her; lifting his hips to grind against her hand. Breathing him in deeply; the spice of his fragrant skin a delicacy, she dropped her head to lave and nibble down the middle of his abs. Her tongue swept over his quivering midsection, her teeth finding a rigid line to sink into gently.

Pawing her way down his build, Essätha finally drifted down to belt buckle where her other hand cupped his erection. She pulled the prongs free, and dragged the strap through the belt frame and loop loosely. “Mercy, my love,” Amon pleaded hoarsely, rotating his hips to feel the her touch beneath the straining bulge of his trousers. Glorious, she thought to herself wickedly. He was begging for relief now as she worked the leather band from his pants, taking her sweet leisurely time. Her mouth, for the meantime, latched on to his shoulder to suck firmly on his flesh.

Essie tossed the belt aside. Her breathing sounded just as ragged as his; rolling over his skin damp from her lewd tongue and drifting lines of sweat. “You taste as amazing as you feel,” she purred, dotting soft kisses against his collarbone. He gasped, fidgeting, nails embedding into her ass as he kneaded her the moment her tongue descended, tracing the carving of his chest in a single stroke south. “I need you,” Amon sputtered shakily. “I’m so hard for you. Nnng, good girl.”

Good girl. Gods, she loved it when he said that, all hot and bothered and needy. Oh she had some plans to be good to him, but not necessarily a good girl. Her breath billowed over the dense pubic hair disappearing into his pants, her eyes turned up to her husband. Heated and smoldering, she took in the fluttering of his half-mast eyes and the jump in his throat as he swallowed deeply. His jawline moved, clenching and unclenching as he caught her studying gaze.

She splayed her hands over his chest like an anchor, and leaned in. Her teeth caught the edge of one button of his pants, and worked it. It popped through the hole and Amon froze, gaping at her with his tongue running hungrily against his lips. Grinning with confidence, she moved on to the next one, aware of just how close she was to his throbbing cock. Shocking how still he could be when she was so close; her air brushing against the flaps of his opened slacks against his undergarment as she gripped the next button. She worked it carefully; an expert lover’s twist and flick, and it snapped open as her nailed raked against his torso and chest hair, lowering as she lifted her head.

She teased him, slipping her fingers into the opening of his trousers. The nobleman stilled. A breathless pause. He hitched for air, groaning the moment her fingertips grazed along the base of his stiff member. His hands, having lost her rear as she dropped lower, went for her shoulders in a bear trap’s vice grip. He whined openly as she dipped her tongue along his navel, into his belly button, and caressed over to his hip to nip the protruding bone.

“Mmmm, I love it when you grab me,” she whispered, kissing her way across his abdomen towards his other hip. He spasmed; cursing in common and elvish as her fingers brushed lower as his legs snapped open wider. She stroked his sack and he gave a sudden and sharp cry as her teeth dragged along his other hip bone, biting gently. “I’m so wet for you, m’lord Amon. You’re a sexy stud, and I want to fuck your handsome cock until you feel boneless and forget how to walk.”

“Ugghhh Essie,” Amon whimpered. He wriggled, shallow huffs of air expelling rapidly from his chest. His butt lifted from the couch as she gripped the leg of his pants, and yanked them part of the way down. Her mouth formed into a frown and she removed her hand from palming his warmed scrotum. He choked with longing, leaving crescent moons on her shoulders with impatience as she tugged his askew clothing down to his boots.

“Climb on my lap, darling. Fuck the formalities, I want to feel you.” His voice was raspy. Stroking a velvety touch along the cords of her neck, he gasped with exhilaration. She hummed, her lashes skimming the top of her cheeks as she forced his shoes off, barely reasoning with the knots or loosening them. They were thrown across the room with a thud, his socks and pants following moments after.

Ignoring the thickness in his imploring voice; the deeply profound want of his faint words, Essätha settled on her knees between his legs. His small clothes were the only barrier between her, and his erection. She raised a lingering smile to beam up at him, dropping kisses along his knees. He groaned, straining as her tongue and teeth joined. Brushing her pillowed lips against his skin, skimming teeth, lapping with her tongue. Her fingers seduced every inch of his sublime figure. Caressing his waist, nudging his legs apart, scrapping along the sensitive raised goosebumps while her eyes locked on to his. She savored each moan that escaped his lips and echoed in the depths of his lungs.

Down his ankles, back up along his shins, and against his knees. She licked the inside of his thigh and he shuddered, rolling her name out with ecstasy. His hips drove forward in an invitation. He was a temptation she couldn’t refuse. Her husband, so fetching and delicious. He was a fantastic lover in every way, but there was so much to appreciate in this view. The trust. The reception. He held to her shoulder with one hand, and gripped the cushions with the other for support, clasping and unclasping his fist from the furniture as he groaned with submission to her dark desires and sinful foreplay.

Her tongue danced over his skin, moving up closer and closer to the edge of his drawers. Amon gyrated his hips, thrusting towards sanctuary. Essätha snickered, drawing spiraling shapes with her fingers over his torso in a sensual, erotic display. “Would you feel better if I kissed your poor, weeping shaft m’lord?”

The flushed color in his face grew darker and deeper. He groaned, mouth-gaping, pupils huge. His mouth closed, and he swallowed before opening again. He was speechless. She cooed at him with pity, placing a kiss along the very edge of the fabric that separated them. Once more, he threw his head back violently into the sofa, growling with frustration. “I’m not hearing an answer,” she chimed, grinning wildly.

“Yes! Yes yes, fine, please- do something-” He choked; a long drawn out gasp staggering out of him as she kissed the head of his erection through his underclothes. She grinned broader as his eyes closed, mouth twisting up and throat flexing with each withheld grunt as she lapped the damp spot on the front of his undergarments from his arousal. The musk of his need was heady and strong.

As he keened for more, Essätha sank slowly back on her knees. Her tongue drew across her lips with suggestive slowness, catching his eyes as they pried open with hopeless abandonment. Moving her hands low, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his drawers, and pulled experimentally. With an arching eyebrow, she dragged his knees together, resting her breasts against them as she whispered low and husky, “I have an idea in mind. In the bedroom, if you want to try it, m’lord Amon.”

“You’re torturing me dear,” Amon complained, his nostrils flaring. But there was no hiding the interest brewing in his gaze, his tongue moving over his own lips now. “What sort of idea? And does it involve you removing any of your damn clothes, too?”

She laughed quietly. “All in good time,” she promised, slowly climbing back up. With a hand placed on either side of his legs; fingers sinking into the fabric of the couch, Essie leaned in to ghost her lips upon his. It’s not enough. He moved nearer; claimed her mouth with his own. It’s all yearning and pleasure. Far from soft; his teeth bruise her lower lip and his tongue claimed her until she quivering. Another stab of her most vulgar desires send a wave through her as she clenched her thighs close together, a moan tumbling from her mouth into his.

He released her from the glorious spell of his lips. Every nerve ending was hyper-aware of the blaze of his mouth, caressing a long line down the side of her neck. Panting heavily, Essie ran her fingers through his beard, up to the side of his face, and cupped his cheeks. The hard calluses of his palms found her blouse and crept beneath, skimming along her pelvis. They moved to her back, tracing an old scar before flattening out.

She pulled away, placing a hand to his forearm firmly to retract the sinful gentleness of his hand claiming her. With a frustrated snarl, Amon placed a tender kiss to her lips. Sweet and soft, gliding his tongue along the seams of her lips until she was relinquished control briefly once more. His hands lingered on her waist a moment longer; massing into her bare skin, before he flopped back into the seat with a pout. His skin was glowing, and his eyes dark with lust and triumph to see her weak-kneed, trying to stand but wavering.

Beckoning him with a pointer finger, Essätha reached down to grasp his hand. He held to her hand, clasping her carefully. As he stood, he placed her hand briefly to his chest, over his heart in a symbolic gesture that made her pulse skip a few beats. He wore the fondest, most adoring smile and it was aimed like a perfect arrow through her heart. With a scarlet blush creeping deeper into her neckline and causing a haze of color to her skin, she chewed on her sore lower lip and tugged at him to follow.

She tripped and narrowly missed a puppy-love fall from glancing over her shoulder at Amon, but he dragged her back into the safety of his chest. With a grin broad and knowing as she inhaled sharply, feeling the bulge in his underclothes against her, Essätha kicked aside the boot she nearly fell over. She scowled at it, head down, and hurried the rest of the way past the disorganized clothes and coffee table brimming with ledgers. Some of the paperwork managed to fall to the floor in their haste to pass, and she quickly kicked the door to their private quarters closed behind them. Let any daring housemaid catch the sounds coming from their room and see Amon’s clothes in the sitting room, and be so brave as to try the coming in.

With more ferocity then she believed to have, she shoved her husband back into the door. He drank her in like a desperate drunk, and they sighed in unison against each other with relief. She moved against him; hips undulating, humping him greedily and grinding into his length. It’d be a lot more comforting to feel the contact of skin against skin, and not the friction of her clothes trying to mask the basking warmth of her sun.

He gripped her back and bottom, smothering her against him. “Mmmmf, my Essie,” he growled possessively, drawing on each syllable. She lunged for him once more. Wanting more; tasting his lips as the back of his head smacked against the hard oak. He groaned for her loudly as her hand squeezed to his, her free one tugging at his black locks roughly to tilt him just the way she wanted him. Enough to deepen the kiss, and weave her tongue carnally against his.

Swiftly and suddenly, Essätha leaned away from him. The cold seems to hit him all at once; his mouth hanging open, a shiver racing down his spine. He unfroze after half a second and reacheed for her once more, trying to gather her close, but she stepped away. With a scolding tut, her finger tapped his lips lightly. Amon didn’t hesitate; puckering his lips to kiss her digit as the soulful depth of his gaze swept over her like a salacious caress. For a moment she’s utterly lost in the fathomed depths; lost in the abyss of his pupil devouring his iris before she remembered herself.

Moving quickly, she stepped over to the nightstand as the nobleman detaches himself from the door. He moved as though in a dreamy romantic state, not quite making it to her by the time she fumbled through, and manages to produce a length of silk, and then a second. They were extra fabric pieces to a scarf she’d made herself for Josephine, and she’d tossed them thoughtlessly into the dresser one day, thinking that maybe one day be of use. Today seemed as good a day as any.

“You intend to tie me up, with those…” His voice was soft, but compelling. A predator lay in wait in his gaze, ready to pounce. Hungry, at the end of his chain, wanting to sink his teeth into flesh and possess her in all the ways that made her scream for him. There was doubt in his regard to the fabric; but a dangerous wanton expression creeping into the tints of color on his features.

She lowered her gaze, biting into her aching lower lip. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

Amon made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. Reaching up to stroke his beard; in a gesture that was comical as it was cute, he gave a slow nod. “Alright,” he agreed, a lazy smile spreading on his face. “What would you have me do, my lady?”

A thrill of eagerness momentarily stole her breath. With a voice more breathless than she intended, Essie indicated with a jerky hand towards the bed, hissing her demand: “Lay down.”

“Commanding,” he murmured, his voice deep and sultry. He moved past her; the smell of him distracting her just as it had before. He took full advantage of her gawking state, brushing his hand against the side of her bosom as he whispered hoarsely, “I like it.”

“Bed,” Essätha ordered, voice cracking. She was going to lose resolve with a look like that. The back of her mind whispered to her, knowing full well he could bring her to that edge again and again until she was howling for it. He could make her scream until she lost her voice, if he wanted to. But this was her game, and she had every intention on seeing it through.

Her beloved Lord Amon sank into the creaking bedframe wordlessly. His eyes said everything the crafty, smug smile of interest of his smile did not. But he wouldn’t be cocky for long (ha). Wearing a seductive smile of her own, she slunk from the end of the bed up to crawl atop of him, and straddle him. He groaned in agony; her clothes still a hindrance as he glided his hands firmly to her sides.

She held out her hand, and he froze. Obedient and silent, but watchful, he placed his hand in her grasp. She twined the rope carefully around his wrist, creating a cuff. Knotting it firmly in place, she gave the material a few jerks and tugs to test its strength. It didn’t fray or split. It wasn’t much of a distraction from the urgent look in Amon’s gaze, or the way he swayed his hips from side to side to try diverting her focus. Which it did. Easily.

Scowling, Essätha leaned over him to tie the other end of the silk to the bedpost. She shifted closer, concentrating on the knot she was making. It proved difficult as Amon breathed heavily against her chest, sitting up enough to skim his nose along her throat. Breathing deeply, he groaned: “You’re beautiful. How long are you going to toy with me like this, darling?”

“Until I’m satisfied,” she retorted, keenly aware of the feverish gasping in her voice. Taking his other wrist, she began the process of looping it and knotting the material like before. Once she leaned in to tie it to the opposite bedpost, her devious little husband tormented her in return. His hips lift; rocking his erection into her crotch as his mouth latched on to a nipple through her shirt.

Cursing shattered words in various tones and languages, Essätha shamelessly rode the shape of his package with a muted whimper. With an internal shiver, she reminded herself of what she wanted to do, and managed to squirm free with a gasp. Sitting back on her knees and far from the proud smirk pinned to the Illiad heir’s face, she gave him a serious glance. No matter how lecherous of an Aphrodite she could pretend to be; raw, aloof, charming, disarming, she was still just as enthralled and drawn to him as he was to her. Her body might want to give in to the immediate gratification of passion; quick and rough or cuddly and soft, but she could wait until she’d gotten her fill of making him lose his mind.

Amon shifted, and the bedpost creaks. He gave a tentative tug on the binding with his arm, and the tension pulled the length taut. His eyes wander from it, to her, and back again as he gave another jerk. His muscle strains, and the silk holds firm as the entire bed rocks from the effort. His eyes dart back to her once again, and his blown pupils consume her whole.

“I quite like this look,” she purred, stroking a hand absently over his chest. The tips of her fingers step across his navel, up his tense abdomen, and to his nipple. She strumed her thumb against him as he groans. “Lord Amon Thomas Illiad, my submissive husband, all tied up just for me,” Essie breathed, leaning in to hover above the heat of his body. “I bet you’d like to be inside me, right now. I bet I could make you orgasm. I wouldn’t even have to do much, would I? Kiss you here,” she pressed her lips softly over his throat. “Maybe here.” Another, over his nipple. “Or here.” Against his rapid heartbeat, and he moaned. “Touch you in just the right places, and you’ll just explode.”

The realization seemed to hit him. Truly trapped; the silk too well-made to rip or tear from his brute strength. He groaned; loud and low, trying to angle himself as much as possible to try brush his length against her. She bent upward just enough to avoid giving him the contact he ached for, and a whine settled in his throat. “Essätha, please,” he begged, dragging in air in short bursts. “Please. I want you. I need you, Ess’. Please.”

Gods, she felt drunk with power. This man; her man, a proud Illiad, praying and beseeching to her. He craved her. He wanted her in ways both filthy and amorous; wrapped around each other, frisking, touching, nuzzling, kissing. She wasn’t so blind and stupid not to see the way people looked at her over the years. She had appeal, if people could get past the random patches of scaly growths on her skin. For Amon her scales weren’t a hindrance. What she was didn’t stop him from pressing his mouth over her every curve and angle as he’d glide his hands over her, embrace her, and whisper words of flattery in her ears as he loved her. There was no greater joy and honor than to hold and love this man.

Or in this case, nothing was more satisfying than to leave him begging for more. Her valiant husband’s gaze coasted over her, and follows the hypnotic gestures of her hands. She smiles slowly, skimming them down the front of her camisole to the hem. Gathering the thin cloth in her hands, she began to drag it slowly up her body. Revealing her stomach; the planes of her belly. It hiked up higher, just beneath her ribcage and then beneath the shape of her small bust. The light against her warm skintones was luminescent, casting a drapery of shadows against her hips and curves.

Amon licked his lips in response, and lurched forward. The wooden frame of the bed protested, and the silks yanked him back into the pillows with a ragged gasp parting his stunned lips. She snickered, flirting her half-mast eyes across his expressive gaping face before flipping the garment the remainder over her breasts, and pulling her head out. With a flick of her arm, she sent the top fluttering off to the floor, her chest rising and falling with her eagerness. It gave the small mounds of her breasts a bit of bounce, which captured his attention for a lengthy intermission.

“Goddess,” the nobleman crooned, giving no indication on if he meant her or a true deity. Judging by the fixated attention of his gaze groping her however, she felt sure she knew the answer. The flush of color in her face heightened in response. Playing her fingers across her collarbone, she grazed lower; momentarily stopping to mold her palm against her breast. Amon heaved for oxygen, sucking in large gulps of air, as her hand relaxed and skimmed lower to her pants.

Bending forward, Essätha reached down to push the fastener through on her slacks, one at a time. She shed them aside, revealing the lace-covered panties beneath. The Briarton Lord let out a noise both miserable and primal. Her movement is slow and cruel; peeling back the dense cloth to show more and more of her supple thighs, all the way down to her knees. She raised her ass in the air, reveling in the way he huffed and wrestled in the restraints to lean forward at the edge for her. Bracing with one hand, she wiggled the apparel down further, and repeated the gesture on the other side until every nude contour is visible, save for the hidden crown of his lust beneath her knickers.

Extending her arm, she dropped her slacks over the side of the bed. A stern squeak emits from the posts as he tugged at them once more. A trace of pity hits her, seeing the strain in his face, in the muscles of his arms, in the pull of his eyes. In the most enamored, awe-struck voice, he managed to speak; his voice husky and deep, “Undergarments. Remove them.”

“I’m sorry, are you commanding me?” she taunted, moving to loom over his struggling form, smiling broadly. Keeping herself aloft with one hand, she used the other to cradle his face. He sighed deeply with enjoyment, nestling his face into her touch. A turn of his face, and he kissed her pulse-point gently, searching her face for a sign of reaction.

He must have found what he wanted, because he grinned. She realized she expression became vulnerable; staring, wanting, a jolt in her heartbeat and mouth parted with flush lips. With a scowl burying her heated need, she snatched her hand back, caressing it instead down his bare chest instead. “Was that a Lord command, a I’m-Your-Husband command, or a I’m-Desperate-To-Be-Fucked command?”

To her delight, he appeared suddenly sheepish. His throat jumped, and he rasped: “My apologies, my love. I demand nothing of you. The shackles, they just…” His voice faded out as she hovered closer. Lightly pressing her lips to his with sympathy, she kissed him softly. Her words breathed against his ear; light as a butterfly’s wings, “Not so easy having no control, is it?” She felt him nod, swallowing thickly once.

In a sign of forgiveness, Essätha leaves sensual kisses across his neck, carefully nipping along his sensitive skin. She stops to lap at his nipple, enjoying the faded growl in the back of his throat as she brushed her breasts to his torso. His chest hair tickled her erogenous zone. Moaning weakly, she traveled over the model of his magnificent chest; suckling and nibbling down to his underwear. There’s a damp spot from the dew of his pre-cum and where her tongue had been earlier. She strips them away; sliding over his body to throw them across the room.

She exhaled, breath fanning over his straining cock. “Gloriousss,” she managed to hiss. Her tongue stroked the inside of his thighs in a single line towards his balls, and he keened with pleasure. Her cheek grazed his rod as she moved up along his leg. She left wet, lewd kisses along his leg; listening to the rapture of his his voice rather than the words in a tongue of elves that made little sense to her.

Shimmying lower down the bed, she anchored her knees for support, and lured her tongue over the head of his cock. His reaction was instantaneous. Amon arched; his hips lifting, and a ragged moan poured out of him in a reverberating tones. Without looking up, she feels the burn of his eyes on the top of her head as her braid falls on his thigh. She encouraged him to nudge his legs wider for her, dragging nails against one leg and taking a steady grasp of the base of his length with the other. Through clenched teeth, her husband draws out a fizzling gasp of hope.

Swirling her tongue along the head of his manhood, she tasted the tangy musk of his desire. Her lips kiss along his slit and she engulfs just the head, sucking lightly. He pulled up like a bow strung too tight; tense, rigid, stiff in the groin as he grunted loudly. The moment he urged his hips up again, requesting more, she retracted; laving her tongue down his shaft and back up again slowly. She paused to leave an open-mouth kiss on the underside of his length before repeating the gesture; smoothly gliding her tongue over the other side of his dick and back up to leave a filthy kiss beneath his leaking slit.

A string of ‘please’s tumbled out of his mouth. Essie offerd him a sinister smirk, casting a glazed look up at his face. He’s more flush than ever. Wriggling into the mattress, he huffed and screws up his mouth with vexation. It’s gone in a flash; parting his mouth into a gratifying cry of euphoria as she dipped her head once more, taking him into her mouth to suck deeply before popping him out with a prurient wet kiss.

“Essätha,” he appealed, twisting his hands to hold the silken lengths. She hummed at his inquiry, lowering herself to lap along the base of his erection. Her tongue darted out against his scrotum; dipped lower and moved along his sack. A whimper escaped the nobleman and he thrust into her hand that still gripped him, wheezing helplessly as she took one ball into her mouth and sucked gently. “More,” he wailed involuntarily.

She was more than eager to please. His reactions were perfect. Yearning and hot. She danced her tongue along the sensitive skin, moving him up and down in her mouth. From one, she moved on to the other; leaving his balls shining with her saliva. Her nose pressed into the base of his cock as she stroked him gently, up and down. His legs trembled with the effort to remain steady, to not plunge himself into fucking her hand and mouth in a sad attempt to finish himself. A ravenous moan of bliss fueled him as he sank into the covers, head lulling, mouth open.

“Good girl,” he gasped, her tongue flicking at the skin along his dick and scrotum. She kissed and licked her way back up his member, listening to the unsteady roughness of his breathing. He groaned as she sucked the tip of his head once more. “Essie, please. Please.”

Gradually, she bobbed her head. Lowering further onto his cock, she takes the girth and weight of him deeper. Her throat flexes, her cheeks hollow, and she sucks him a little tighter the deeper he goes. Amon’s groans grow animalistic with hunger; constant, wild, and passionate. He flexes his hips forward, as far as he’s able, scrambling for more.

In a rhythmic motion, she begins to fuck him. Swallowing the pre-cum leaking from his slit, she moved her lips over him and dipped her tongue along the side. It grazed him; swirling and flattening in different directions. Her hand fists him all the while; clenching and relaxing, moving up and down to caress and bring him higher. She cupped his balls in her other hand, breathing deeply through her nose, and massaged them slowly. He babbles some sweet-nothings, but it’s near impossible to make out in a rush of crude words and whining.

Darting her eyes over him, she appreciated the erotic dance of his hips, the helpless writhing of his body. Perspiration drenched his skin. She relaxed the suction, aiming her tongue to throttle over the head of his hardness before taking him deep once more. His eyes open and close; moving from her to the ceiling, hissing through his teeth. She can make out the slight chaffing against his wrists even from where she was; turning a reddish hue as he struggled against his bonds.

“Close,” he bit out. “M’close.” Another gasp, and he bucked up towards the heat of her mouth engulfing him. She winced; tears momentarily blinding her eyes from the sudden jab to the back of her throat before he settled back into the bed. His length passed the spread of her full lips, and Essätha dragged in a large breath, licking her tongue along the slit of his cock one last time before sitting up. Her jaw ached. She let go of his dick and ballsack slowly to rub along her jawline for a moment. Despite herself, a smile pulled at her aching face, watching her Lord lounge in the sheets, trying to catch his breath with eyes shuttered to the world.

While he was wonderfully preoccupied and trying to regain composure, Essie rolled off of him to crawl further up the bed. She fumbled with the nightstand, producing a condom from its contents. Leaving the drawer open, she ripped open the packet and pitched it. Taking the contents from inside, she rolled the damn thing down his shaft, still slick from her mouth. It fit snuggly in place, right where it should, with the end slightly extended as it should be.

Gripping the edges of her panties, she yanked them off in a single fluid gesture. They fell off the edge of the bed as she slipped forward, straddling her husband by the hips. An ecstatic moan of impatience dragged out of her chest. Amon’s eyes snapped open wide and sudden as she slid down, allowing his cock to glide against her folds wet with want to brush her clitoris.

The entire headboard lurched forward with a defiant shirek. Twisting his wrists, a bellowing sound of remorse filled the room from his lungs as she moved again, a shaky sigh moving past her lips. Gods the pangs of need were torture. She was starving for just a pinch of his love, just a bit of his fiery elation and the taste of his lust. Just a little relief. Her walls clenched against nothing, wanting more as her mouth fell open, that sweet bundle of nerves in her bud blooming as her back arched to move against him once more.

Slamming his head back into the pillow, Amon drove his hips forward maddeningly. “Untie me!” he relented, his eyes catching hers. She blinked sluggishly, lost in the dark colors of his eyes for a moment not comprehending as he turned the cuffs around in his grip. “Essätha. Please. Untie me. I need to touch you.”

Wearing a saucy smile, she inclined over him. “So elaborate for me, my beloved: a blow job doesn’t get you hot and bothered enough to demand being released, but my pussy against your cock does?”

He groaned, gyrating his hips once more to grind his shaft into her clit so her eyes fluttered shut, and she mewled with astonishment. His lips wet his lips, and he groaned softly, “Untie me, Essie. I want to feel you. I want to hold you. I want to participate and please you by the Light of Pelor, please.”

His gaze was rounded with pleading. With a hitch in her breath, she leaned back. The nectar of her want glistened against his erection as she hung just above against his chest, dotting a kiss to his upper collarbone while reaching for his left hand. “You are a sentimental softie, m’lord,” she murmured, unfurling the first knot as she finished close to his ear, making him shiver, “I love it. I love you, m’lord Amon.”

Calm. His scorching eyes slipped over her face with in the soothing silence. She felt a sense of unease; as though she may have been tricked, as her hands worked on the last knot. His free hand moved to her face, brushing frizzy strands of loose hair from her braid aside. He cupped her chin, examined her swollen lip, and stroked his thumb along her jaw. As the silk slackened on his other wrist, he pulled his arm free to hold her cheeks instead. Turning her face, Essie pressed an apologetic kiss to the tender area of his skin, worn from the fabric chafing at his flesh.

“I love you, Essätha Meduza Illiad, my wife,” he rumbled conclusively. He followed her as she pulled away, his lips mirroring over the outline of hers as she panted. Pulling his legs in just enough to offer support as they sat up; her in his lap, he ran his hands down her throat. She trembled beneath the light contact, barely grazing her shoulders and massaging down her curves. He halted as she lifted her hips; kneading her ass and guiding her forward.

Her eyelashes fluttered. Slowly, she sank down on his member. A synchronized set of moans pushed past their lips. The broad hands on her rear smoothed up her back, embracing her close. With a steady thrust, and rotation of his hips, Amon moved deeper. She clenched against his cock, keening pitifully. By all the gods, he felt incredible. She was soaked for him, and he fit so perfectly inside her.

They moved slowly; finding a gradual pace. Feathered kisses lined her jaw, up her cheeks, to her forehead, and over her nose. Essie gasped, gripping his shoulder and his waist while rocking into him. He found her lips. A tender pressure; careful of her inflamed lower lip. His tongue swept against her own as her mouth parted and she shuddered. It was gone too soon. Her head spinning; already dizzy and lightheaded from the waves of heavenly bliss as he moved on to leaves kisses down her throat. Scrapping teeth against her skin, circling his tongue against her sweaty skin.

Amon’s hips bucked firmly up into hers. Throwing her head back, she moaned with ecstasy. With a hand against her back keep her steadily in place, her breasts squished to his chest, Amon edged a hand between them to the juncture of her thighs. His pointer and middle found her clitoris and he circled her nub. Flicking the hood, rubbing her furiously, she ground into his hand and moaned close to his ear. Her fang caught his earlobe and she licked against the shell as he bit her neck gently.

“Darling,” he grunt; honeyed with fondness. He jolted; driving his hips at just the right angle to spark a dangerous fire inside. She whimpered, riding him fast. His groans increased in tempo and strength, and he kissed her vigorously, repeating her name over and over again like a prayer. “Essätha. Essätha. Essätha-”

The nobleman let out a loud groan. She could feel the ripples of him spilling into the rubber as he continued to move. His fingers changed tactics; one barely whispering a coaxing gesture against her sensitive bundle of nerves, and the other tickling just to the side. It was a strange combination, but the sensation worked. She jumped; hissing. Her thighs pressed close, moving against his limp erection. Too close though. It was right there and he cursed; trying to help her chase it-

The world faded, and she toppled into paradise. Screaming his name weakly with release, her walls fluttered and pulsed around his cock. Her climax coated the condom, and dripped on to the sheets as she slumped weakly against her husband’s chest, gasping. His hand retracted from her mound and she quivered once more, resting her head to his shoulder.

Sucking her juices from his fingers, Amon wrapped his arm back around her. She winced as he guided her off of him; a slight burn in her loins. He rolled the condom back up, and ditched the used latex off to the side. His beard rasped against her cheek as he nuzzled her. A kiss pressed to her temple and he flopped back into bed, guiding her with him to lay sprawled out across his torso.

Leaving a delicate, romantic kiss to the underside of his chin, Essätha exhaled heavily with contentment. “That was extraordinary,” she stated quietly, lifting her head to gaze at him with a sultry smile. “Good for you?”

“Fantastic,” he replied, chuckling.

She grinned. “Think you’re ready to go back to work?” she teased.

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed, rubbing a hand to the back of her neck, urging her forward. “Now com’ere you, it’s my turn. And I want to kiss all over your gorgeous smiling face, to start with.”

Snickering, Essie climbed closer to the temptation of his crafty grin and tranquil, loving eyes to meet his gentle mouth in an intimate kiss. A strong arm around her, another tucked in the loose curls around her ear where they’d fallen. He breathed her in; kissed her sweet and soft, and whispered a poetic verse in elvish she recognized that made her insides melt. This moment and this man, it was all hers. And as she smiled into the kiss, she knew in the depths of her heart, nothing could possibly make her happier. She found refuge with him. She found home, with him. He took such care of her heart and its misshapen form; and her soul, which some days she still wasn’t sure wasn’t tainted by some blot of darkness.

“I love you,” she muffled against his lips once more. “I love you,” he repeated quietly, caressing her spine. She sighed pleasantly, arching into his touch. With lowered lashes, she allowed herself to be vulnerable. Limp; safe in his arms. The safest place she ever knew. His mouth pressed to the corner of her own and she curled up into him. Nothing to fear touched her here; no doubts, no sorrows. Only happiness. Only him. Her hands slipped over his cheeks, rubbing his beard and gliding up into his hair. She drew him deep into her lungs, kissed him tenderly in return, and did something she’d never done before, until she had him.

She lived. Perfectly happy, lost in the moment, and cradled in the security of his arms. Home, loved, and utterly and totally at peace, with him, her beloved Lord Amon.

#eci artz #essamon ship #Essie rw #amon illiad #ns/few writing #//ask to // tag

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ninnieartsies · 4 years ago

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hello, it's the fic anon again! do you have any hard limits on the ship in terms of kinks? i wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable when i write the fics in case it gets ns//fw... i certainly would also like a background on raimundo too please (as a whole character) cause i'd be ashamed if i write him too ooc! ♥️ thank you sm for giving me permission to write about your wonderful oc too! 😭💖

sdsfllkds I’m!! 💞 💞

Hard limits would be mainly piss/scat/vomit based stuff. Other than those, I’m pretty aight! So if you wanna go wild and explore some, feel free to! òvób Rai is good for that stuff!

Okay, so I’m putting the stuff about Raimundo under a read more since it gonna be long-ish. TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR CANNIBALISM, SADOMASOCHISM, MEDICAL/INJURY DESCRIPTIONS, bad renders of SCAR PLACEMENT ART, and other stuff!!

This bastard of a man is 190,5cm (6'3’’), and he weighs 74kg (163.14 lbs). His eyes are red, and his hair is black.

He has a habit of using endearments/petnames on everyone but especially his s/o. These typically are babe, sweetcheeks, darling, my love, love, snookums, snugglebutt, and so on.

SOMEWHAT OF A TL;DR: Think the trope Grumpy/dangerous one being soft for only One Person -ship trope.

Raimundo is a cannibal vampire, which means that he eats other vampires, but will also eat humans. Human blood is like a snack for him, so it doesn’t sustain him, while vampire blood will satisfy him for three days. If he eats human flesh, he’s alright for three days, while if he ate vampire flesh he’d be good for a week.

Rai’s blood is black and tarlike, and it stinks absolutely horrible. It is especially revolting to those with a sensitive nose.

Werewolf blood will make him high (think weed usage).

He’s a sadomasochist, who has a hard time creating emotional bonds with people. But with mutual trust and enough time, anything is possible. His sadomasochism makes it that he can’t get off unless pain and/or humiliation is involved; either him receiving or giving.

He likes cats and strawberries.

Strawberries are pretty much the only thing he can eat that’s not raw (human/vampire/other) flesh, without getting sick. Anything else will get him ill.

He can eat meat that is sort of similar to that of a human, be it raw or cooked.

He can’t read or write due to his brain damage.

Enjoys being read stories to.

Rai’s kinks are basically: anything goes.

Can both top or bottom, both are fine. Though I usually have him top or Katsuk be a power bottom. But you do you!

Rai likes to sit or lay on the floor. For some reason, he finds it comfortable.

He doesn’t understand technology at all. TV and phones are filled with demons. Automatic doors are hell, and escalators are the stairs of satan.

When he’s after affection, he may squish Bakug. Think big dog thinking its a lapdog.

Bakugou is someone Rai trusts and respects immensely, and the only one he can fully relax around. This is why he may nap laying on top of him.

When Katsuki’s busy, Rai may just lay close by to him, or curled around him, as long as he can have a little bit of physical contact, then he’s happy.

Since Rai can turn into a bat, he may also hide himself under the collar of Baku’s shirt and join him on little outings. (Katsuk’s emotional support bat, lmao).

The bat size is basically big ears and a body that’s the size of your hand/palm + wing span. Black bat.

Rai’s and Bakug’s relationship is first and foremost built on mutual respect: Both are aware that they can injure each other badly or even kill each other, if something goes wrong.

He’s got a bunch of scars littering his body, most noticeable being those on his throat and over his nose.

and a burn scar in the form of a cross on his back.

Now then his personality:

Raimundo’s sense of fear has dwindled to almost nonexistent since his brain damage got severe enough. He’s very street smart, and one for close combat, and will keep going, despite getting injured in the process… Now, despite him being what you’d call an apex predator, Raimundo is clumsy when he’s somewhere comfortable. He has a tendency to trip over carpets, and fall down stairs (be it him going up or down them). But once he is outside again, and this clumsy streak is nowhere to be seen. This is because he unconsciously switches on/off his survival instinct. Out in the wild/in the cities, he has to keep an eye on the surroundings and not get caught.

Raimundo is pretty violent by nature, in addition to being reckless. He has issues in showing his feelings in other ways than being a complete asshole, or through bursts of aggression. Raimundo is not someone who’d cry, he hasn’t cried since he was a kid. When he’s sad or upset, he tends to get violent. He also has a hard time trusting anyone enough to form a relationship with them. If anyone would be interested in him enough to suggest dating, they’d need to be patient. Very patient.

He CAN love if the stars align right, and everything clicks. Once he finds his ideal mate, Raimundo is surprisingly cuddly, and he quite enjoys close contact with his SO. He is also POSSESSIVE, and will mark his chosen one often with bites. These bites will be deep and may require stitches if he is not careful enough. Rai is also not shy to show affection through kisses, and/or other means. He may also get easily jealous and act out on it. In bed, he, by default, will be rough. There will be blood involved; it’s either he or his partner that is bleeding. His partners do not have to worry, though. He does not EAT them he views as his. But he may bite too hard since he can’t control himself always due to the brain damage.

Raimundo’s possessiveness can become an issue. He does not like others touching what is his, and even less if they upset his s/o even a little.

When you reach a friend status, or a trustworthy status in general, Raimundo will be sort of pleasant to be around. He will crack jokes and he’ll even be ready to help you with stuff, if he deems you worthy of his time, more or less. Rai can and will use bad pickup lines for the heck of it if it means he can make Katsuki laugh. For example: sit next to him on the couch, and put an arm around him and say “So. Ya c’mere of’en?”

Then for the fun part! Raimundo’s medical issues.

He has BRAIN DAMAGE called CHRONIC TRAUMATIC ENCEPHALOPATHY, that has altered his personality; affects his learning, memories, fine motor skills, and causes seizures.

These seizures can last from a few seconds to a few minutes. In his case, they are unpredictable and episodic. Having lived alone for so long, he doesn’t recognize symptoms, nor does he even understand that he has a brain injury, to begin with.

(Usually, he gets a seizure when he gets overwhelmed, when it’s TOO loud, or he’s idle for too long. Having all his senses stimulated heavily at the same time, may also result in a seizure. Hitting his head or getting a hard enough blow to his head can also cause seizures.)

He thinks it’s normal to black out, be disorientated, and to have gaps in his memory. Now, encephalopathy was also triggered by Rai’s habbit to CANNIBALISM, which he picked up from his step brother. Even Raimundo’s AGGRESSIVE BEHAVIOUR is linked to CTE. As his aggressiveness took a more active part, it in turn dwindled his self-preservation to a bare minimum. Raimundo does understand danger, but MIGHT NOT ACT like someone would expect one to.

Other symptoms in addition to the seizures are his MEMORY LOSS and TROUBLE CONCENTRATING FOR LONG PERIODS of time. He needs to take breaks or he gets frustrated, which in turn can lead to an aggressive outburst. His ABILITY TO LEARN is also affected, it being much slower than that of an average human. He, however, is stubborn so he does not easily give up, but he gets very frustrated when something doesn’t go as he hoped.

Raimundo also has some trouble with his dexterity or fine motor skills. Grasping a pencil is very hard, for example. He can’t always control the strength of his grip either, it being too loose or too strong at times. His hands also shake.

Raimundo’s use of endearments/petnames really comes down to him not bothering to remember names, since he’d probably just forget them after a bad seizure episode.

Katsuki, however, has made a lasting impression, so his name is pretty much etched into Rai’s brain and the few brain cells he got working. Rai also calls Bakugou by his given name, Katsuki.

AFTER THE SEIZURES

he is disorientated, often scared, and confused. Then he becomes lethargic and very SLEEPY. He might think he’s moving, i.e. lifting a hand, but instead, he’s just laying still. Usually, something familiar will help him to GROUND himself. A FAMILIAR VOICE or SCENT calms him down and keeps him from spiraling down into, worst-case scenario, another seizure.

If he is with someone he trusts, he will be more than happy to cuddle/hold hands/anything that offers him some sort of comfort & allows him to calm down.

Rest is important. So don’t be too surprised if he spends hours sleeping after a seizure. Depending on how bad it was it can be a short-ish nap, or he sleeps practically the whole day away.

His speech will slur, he won’t make as much sense, and his reaction time is drastically reduced. He is at his most vulnerable after a seizure.

After a seizure he may also lose memories. Sometimes he can get a fuzzy version of a memory back, but mostly they’re gone forever.

HIS VOICE

Since an incident where he was attacked by a beast (chimera), that left the scars on his throat a century ago, Raimundo’s voice has been altered. IT’S HOARSE, a little bit strained as the vocal-cords in his throat are PERMANENTLY DAMAGED despite his healing and regenerating abilities.

(The incident almost killed him, so the healing process took more priority in keeping him alive than to worry about his vocal cords.)

In order to not irritate his throat, HE DOESN’T SPEAK THAT MUCH. If he does, he has to take breaks in order to let his voice and throat rest. It is inconvenient, but he’s learned to live with it.

Some days he may opt not to speak if his throat/voice is acting up.

Raimundo also purrs when he’s content or happy. He may also hiss, growl, snarl, shriek… All of the sounds he makes will still keep the same strain. Since Raimundo originally was a human, his growls/snarls will never sound as natural as they would if they came from a wolf, for example.

SKILLS

HE CAN TURN INTO A BAT; he might “hibernate” during the coldest months

EXTRAORDINARY CLIMBING SKILLS: Climbs vertical walls like it’s nothing, and might also crawl along the ceiling. That means, he has some killer gripping force. He can also climb walls while carrying someone.

REGENERATION/FAST HEALING: depending on wounds 2 days to 4 weeks+++

“MOVING” THROUGH SHADOWS; practically just got A game in hiding in shadows, in disappears into them. As long as light doesn’t touch him, he’s practically invisible.

HAS THE STRENGTH TO BREAK BONES, with his bare hands.

EXTRAORDINARY HEARING: can in a sense see even as blind, thanks to his hearing alone (think bats and echolocation, tho not as sharp). To navigate blind, he will need a noise source.

A GOOD SENSE OF SMELL.

SPEAKS ENGLISH, AND DEMONIC/BEASTIAL LANGUAGE (albeit broken, as he can’t reach the ranges a demon/beast could).

And broken heavily accented Japanese when with Bakug. Will also mess up meanings of words, or come up with new words.

ex. fries = elongated potatoes

WEAKNESSES

HOLY WATER: burns like acid. Digested he’d cough up blood and probably his intestines, and thus die.

HOLY ARTIFACTS; can kill him if used correctly (i.e. the artifacts are made into weapons). Mostly they just give him a migraine.

SUNLIGHT: The exposed skin starts to bubble and eventually bursts open. Depending on the severity and exposure, the spot can burst into flames. Throw him into a sun-exposed area and you will practically witness him be burned alive. A very painful death.

TRAUMA TO THE HEAD: can cause him to have a seizure at worst, but at the least it makes him disorientated.

WEREWOLF BLOOD will get him high as a kite.

If one was TO KILL RAIMUNDO, you just need to pierce his heart with a weapon of your choice, or alternatively, destroy his brain. He can also bleed to death if he is not careful. But for a quick death, the two other ways are more effective.

#raimundo #bakurai fic anon #ninnieatalk #i think that pretty much covers everything regarding my rairai #if there's something else you need to know just hmu for more rai facts lmao #anon

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