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misserabella · 4 months

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Filthy Rich

Spencer Reid x Fem! reader PT.1

pt2! pt3!

✧ Synopsis;; Spencer Reid was filthy rich, for he was royalty. Handsome, charming and a gentleman, a dream dressed in pure silk for any kind of woman. But not you.

✧ y/n is a mere slave of a nobel family who just turned 22. On the night of the prince’s royal ball she is dragged against her will to this dance just to be used as a coat rack for the purses and coats of the family ladies, who, of course, treat her like absolute sh’t, to the point where they could agreed to hand her over for a generous amount of gold.

“Just name your price, sweetheart.”

“Screw you, my prince.”

Just how lucky you were for had caught the

prince’ s attention!

< enemies to lovers 3

17th century royalty! inspired by bridgerton!

CW;; this series might include 18+ content (details will be given at the start of each new part uploaded) MINORS DNI AND SKIP!!!

WARNINGS PART ONE: mention of blood, abuse, cursing and slave trafficking.

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

WORD COUNT;; 2k!

Her faced seemed to tell everything: she hated it.

She hated everything. From the music, to the little stupid shoes that clacked against the floor. The floral scent, the wine, the giggles… She hated the ton*. Every single one of them,

Everything. It was a goddamn nightmare.

“y/n! You are letting my coat slip! Do i have to tell you how much it costs?! If you dare let it touch the floor I’ll take the money out of your poor allowance to pay for a new one!” one of the misses glared at you, hitting you in the face with her closed paper fan, its gemstones leaving marks on you cheek.

“We might as well do it anyways, since her filthy hands have touched them already!” her sister laughed, grabbing your face in between her gloved fingers and digging her nails in your skin. “Don’t you think so, y/n? What? Cat got you tongue?” they giggled.

“Children, children!” the woman of the house hushed them with a sweet smile. “You shall never touch her!” she said, taking of the gloves out of her daughters hands to give her a new pair, with a sweet smile telling one of the servants of the castle to burn them. “God knows what she might infect us with!” she laughed, her offsprings following her.

God, you hated her. Her and her stupid daughters. With their stupid dresses and stupid painted faces.

You glared at them, your grip tightening around their belongings, holding your stare and your head up even when the woman stared back at you, her face scrunching in disgust and anger.

“Who do you think you are staring at?!?!” she suddenly yelled, catching the attention of those who enjoyed drinks and company around her, not waiting a mere second to rise her hand and slap you to ‘show you your place’. You took the hits, the metallic flavor of blood filling your mouth due to the continues smacks and hits with the back of her fan. “You filthy ungrateful bitch, you dare stare at us, who give you food and a bed?! I should’ve let you died out in the cold, in the dirt, where you belong to!” you gritted your teeth, your eyes down to the floor as your free hand made its way to your bottom lip, where you felt the skin split, the crimson of fresh blood tinting your frail skin.

“Fucking fussock*.” you cursed her under your breath, loud enough for her to perfectly hear you.

“What did you say?!” her free hand gripped your long and matted locks, making you look into her enraged eyes, her other hand rising up to hit you once again.

Your eyes closed as you expected a new slap, which surprisingly enough never came. The sound of multiple gasps filled your ears and when you opened up your eyes once again, your stomach sank at the sight of…

“Your highness!” everyone suddenly diverted their eyes to the floor, including you, your mistress and her daughters bowed in his presence, the wrist of the first of them all gracefully and softly held by the prince’s, who let her go with a kind smile.

“Is everything alright?” his voice tested the waters, his tone low and soft as the silk he dressed in, his hands jeweled in golden rings joining and intertwining in an elegance you never had witnessed.

“Yes, your highness.” the woman stuttered, showing a nervous smile. “Our slave just seemed to…, misbehave, your highness.” your eyes travelled trough his tall and magnificent demeanor. His fern green suit matched perfectly with the caramel of his skin and his brown and perfectly combed curls.

Your eyes quickly darted always as he had caught you staring once he had turned to you. He fought the lopsided smirk that urged to grow in his lips, stepping closer to where you stood.

He took a glance at the ragged clothes that hid your bruised and malnourished body, probably due to the family’s treatment under your care, your matted hair, cut up hands…

His warm touch spread on your skin as he took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, softly trying to rise your head up, but you denied him, in a harsh turn of head freeing yourself from his touch before giving him a glare.

A new wave of gasps filed the air as you stared right into his eyes, him holding your glare.

You didn’t care if he was a noble or pure royalty. Those ‘pure blood’ were all the goddamn same. With their leather shoes and gold jewelry, fancy words and silk dresses and suits. Their appearance was only a pretty facade that hid the ugliness of their insides.

You hated all of them. Might as well just get your head off as soon as possible.

“You slave! How is it ye dare to stare at the prince, soon king?!” a brunette and tall man talked, you recognized him as the pince’s right hand, but only with a wave of this hand, he stood silent beside the prince.

“Huh…” the smile he had been trying to fight off finally took place on his gracefully sculpted face and full rosy lips. “Interesting.” once again he took a soft grasp to your face, this time not letting you go even if you fought him off. His eyes took everything your face offered him, from your perfect nose to you long eyelashes and your beautiful fierce eyes, which stared at him with pure hatred and anger. “How much?” he suddenly asked, still not drifting his eyes away from you.

The woman stood frozen in place, just like her daughters.

“What does your highness mean with…-”

“How much would you want for her?” he cut her off, the deadly silent that fell on the salon almost giving you chills.

What was he saying?

“Your highness, I can’t…” she was short of breath and words. “I surely doubt thee would want her under your care, she…”

“I don’t care about any of it. Name a price.” everyone was shocked by the situation. Buying and selling slaves was something quite common, that’s how your current ‘family’ have got you, but this…

The prince? Has he gone nuts?

“Your highness, I don’t think…” the prince’s counselor stepped in, shutting up once again as soon as he gave him a glance.

“50 gold coins.” the woman suddenly blurted out, everyone’s jaws dropping at the audacity of the woman and such large figure.

“Mother!” her offsprings whispered-yelled. Not believing her words.

50 gold coins?!

You scoffed, smirking at such nonsense, not noticing the staring of the prince due to your reaction.

She wished you were worth that much. He would never…

“Make it 150.” he closed the deal.

“Your highness!” the counselor exclaimed, completely alarmed.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Gideon.” he hushed the man with his soft hazel eyes.

You watched as the woman who once abused you and starved you for days fainted due to the prince’s words and his daughters kneeling down to help her followed by some of the nearby guests, fanning her pale sleeping face.

You too felt like fainting.

“Hey, eyes on me, sweetheart.” the prince caught your attention once again, when your eyes met a smile growing on his lips. “All you need to do from now on keep your eyes on me.”

“Get off of me!” you screamed at the servants that tried and strip you out of your clothes, pushing their hands away. “I said stop!”

“Miss, they’re orders from your highness.” one of them spoke, her blue eyes soft on you. “He wanted us to help you bathe and and get rid of your dirty clothes.” she explained.

“I don’t care about what he said.” you scoffed. “If he wanted me undressed so fast why isn’t he the one taking my clothes off?” they all gasped at your words and no respect to the prince.

You didn’t care though, they were all the same anyways. Always reaks* that just wanted to have women swoon at their feet. Maybe that’s why he had bought you, just to use you when his cock got cold.

Suddenly, the door on your back opened, the heads of the servants quickly lowering as your eyes met the prince’s.

“Oh, fantastic…” you muttered. Just what you needed at the moment.

“You heard her, ladies. You are all dismissed.” he smiled at every and each one of them, bowing and moving aside with a swing of his arm on the door to let them out, all of them bowing and giggling.

And weren’t you just right?

“Great. And what do I have the honor of your highness’ presence for?” you sarcastically inquired him once he had closed the door behind his back, noticing…, ‘Gideon’ outside. “Got too excited due your new acquisition to just wait?” you mocked him.

“I heard you were putting up a fight.” he smiled, ignoring your words whilst looking at you up and down. “Is there something not to your liking, perhaps?”

“‘Not to my liking’?” you scoffed. “I can’t believe you.” you shook your head, grasping at your locks as you stared at him in disbelief. “How about this whole goddamn situation? I mean, look at this!” you pointed out everything that surrounded you, the whole bathroom with a gigantic bathtub of quartz, marble floors and pillars… “A few hours ago I was being used as a coat hanger in your ball and now I’m in a bathroom with the prince, who, surprisingly enough, bought me for 150 golden coins god knows why?!” you exclaimed.

He stared at you with a funny look in his eyes. His back against the door as his eyebrows raised at you.

“What.” you spit out, a glare in your eyes.

“Nothing, is just that…” he stepped closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t seem to…, respect me.” he frowned, his voice low. “Not like all of them.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, your highness, for not being another dog licking your leather boots.” you bowed, more of his steps growing closer to you until his thumb took your chin, rising your head up so you could meet his eyes, his face stood serious for a couple of seconds, before a downside smirk grew on his factions. “Why haven’t you cut my head off yet?” you inquired him, not really understanding his behavior. By the way you treated him, any other prince would have already gotten you to the guillotine.

“Why shall I?” he answered with another question, his thumb caressing the wound on your bottom lip, the still fresh blood that stood on it staining his thumb as you hissed in pain, getting away.

You stared at him in confusion.

Yeah. He was absolutely nuts.

“The water will go cold if you don’t get in soon.” he said, drifting off the matter while whipping off your blood from his thumb with his handkerchief. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off those ragged clothes?”

“This is the only dress I’ve had, sir.” you said, his eyes meeting yours.

“What’s your favorite color?” you frowned at his sudden question, which made absolutely no sense. He made no sense. “Crimson, like the purest blood? The forest’s green? The ocean’s blue, perhaps?”

“I’ve never seen the forest nor the ocean, sir. I’ve never left the capital. Though I find the sky’s blue on spring pretty wonderful, not sure it does justice to the ocean’s.”

“It doesn’t.” he said, sitting in the edge of the bathtub, his fingers taunting the warm water. “The ocean is cold, and fierce…, untamable. But it can also be warm, and calm, and soft.” he tried to explain, and from your point of view it didn’t make sense.

It didn’t make sense but you found it…

“It must be beautiful.” you said, him flashing you a soft smile before nodding.

“It is.” he got up clapping his hands together before looking back at you. “Well then, you should really hurry up, the water is perfect.”

“I already told thee, this dress is the only-“

“You won’t need it anymore.” he cut you off.

“And why is that?” you inquired, his steps growing closer to you.

“Because from now on…” he said, catching one of your locks in between his fingers. “You belong in this castle.”

To be continued…

*fussock; a lazy fat woman…, a frowzy old woman.

*the ton; the ton actually refers to English high society during the Regency era, and encompasses every aristocrat from the royals to the gentry.

*rake; ‘rake’ is used to describe an immoral, hedonistic young man circulating in high society.

#spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!readr #criminal minds #spencer reid cm

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slavonicrhapsody · 13 days

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why Divine Beast Dancing Lion has the best soundtrack in the entire game

When I watched the first DLC trailer 6 months ago, I was so focused on Messmer that I never gave the lion dancers a second thought. But in a shocking turn of events, Divine Beast Dancing Lion is now my favorite boss in the whole game. To me, what makes this fight truly exceptional is its soundtrack, so I want to go through the music and outline all the things that make it so great!

What makes the music stand out is that it feels SO different from the rest of the OST… the majority of the boss tracks have a pretty similar style and instrumentation, but Divine Beast stands out in my opinion because of how it emphasizes its rhythm and texture.

Conceptually, this boss fight is first and foremost a dance — you are fighting two Hornsent warriors operating a lion costume based on the traditional Chinese lion dance in an arena that’s actually a giant stage.

The Chinese lion dance is typically accompanied only by percussion (drums, gongs, and cymbals). So naturally, Divine Beast’s soundtrack has much more pronounced percussion in comparison to the rest of the soundtrack, featuring heavy drum beats and cymbals, plus shouts and chants from the choir. The music is in a steady 6/8, with 2 beats per measure divided into three pulses (think 1 2 3, 1 2 3) giving it a lilting, dancelike quality (this type of meter is often used in folk and traditional dances!). And, in the boss’s second phase, the dancing lion’s lightning, wind, and frost phases each have their own music and are timed to transition as the music transitions. The whole boss fight is programmed like a dance, so when you fight the boss it feels like you’re dancing with it too!

The choir has a range of vocalizations that goes beyond singing melodies and harmonies; as I touched on before, they’re also shouting and chanting. The shouts are used percussively and help accent the rhythm of the dance, and the low chanting also brings to mind a sort of religious ritual? Which is exactly what this boss fight is… in Hornsent culture, the lion dance is a ritual for invoking divinity:

“A charm depicting the crazed, cavorting dance of the divine beast conducted at the tower festival. Raises potency of storms. Divine beasts are messengers of the heavens, and their rage mirrors the tumult of the skies, of which storms are the pinnacle.” (Enraged Divine Beast talisman)

The lion dancers, or “sculpted keepers,” are those amongst the divine beast warriors (themselves the chosen amongst the tower’s horned warriors) who truly excelled at divine invocation, and were “granted the honor of the lion dance” (Divine Beast Warrior Armor). In the boss cutscene, the Hornsent Grandam calls upon the divine beast to possess the bodies of the sculpted keepers, and rise again to defend the tower… so the lion dance, performed by warriors skilled in divine invocation, is essentially a ritual for invoking the presence of the divine beast within the dancers in order to commune with the heavens.

The sculpted keepers, having invoked the rage of the divine beast, are able to channel the forces of the stormy skies — lightning, wind, and frost. The force of the storm is represented in the music by quick runs in the high woodwinds and strings that come and go like gusts of wind. The music almost never lets up or loses momentum; it goes at a powerful, furious pace until the end, embodying the divine beast’s fury.

But the Divine Beast that we fight has an extra layer of emotion that goes beyond divine ritual:

“When the Impaler's army assailed the tower, the ritual of the lion dance was turned toward martial ends—its divinity, its fury, its light-footed beauty.” (Remembrance of the Dancing Lion)

What was once a beautiful ritual dance conducted at the tower festival was forced to become a weapon of war in order to fight against their people’s annihilation at the hands of Messmer’s crusade. And even this was not enough…

The Dancing Lion that we fight was slain, lying in a pool of dried blood, when it is miraculously awoken again with a fervent prayer. This is the last lion dance that may ever take place, giving us a mere glimpse of this ruined city’s long-vanished splendor.

Listening to the soundtrack, there is not only pride in the music, but also an urgent, visceral, warlike rage, a multitude of voices joining in a desperate fight for their civilization’s very survival.

#elden ring #divine beast dancing lion #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring lore #this fight is CINEMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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gatorbites-imagines · 9 months

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Hi!! Hope everything is going well!

Could I Please ask for some bottom buggy (mayhaps with some watersports since I saw you had a interest) or some ftm crocodile being fucked into submission!

Have a nice day.

Ftm Sir Crocodile x male reader

Ficlet

I love Sir Crocodile so much 🗣️ 🗣️

Reader is part of Buggy’s crew, cuz I thought that would be hilarious. Reader doesn’t have a devil fruit, but is still super kickass. Hes kind of the information gatherer, smuggler, etc, for the Buggy crew. Reader is also normal human height.

Mixed terminology for Crocs bits. Also, breeding/pregnancy? kink warning ig. but its just mentioned for the fantasy.

The Cross Guild appeared great for any outsider or lesser in the know members, which was most of them. They all saw your captain as someone great and almost godly, thinking he was so much more than he was, but you had been with him for many years, even before the Buggy pirates had even been created. Shortly after the execution of Rogers, Buggy had stumbled into your path and had accidentally saved your life, and from then on you had been by his side.

Most people thought of you as something akin to an accountant or treasurer, wearing an outfit that looked very much like that of a ringmaster, long red tailcoat and top hat and all. You were always one of the first to run away, giving you a reputation of a coward who couldn’t fight.

The only one who truly knew how much of a threat you could be, would be your captain and his inner circle, which you were also part of. You might not have been the strongest physically compared to someone like Mihawk, but no one could gather information like you could, smuggle like you could, or have someone “disappear” like you could. Your network was so extensive that even the one they called Joker, who you knew was none other than Donquixote Doflamingo, was jealous.

That was why you knew everything about Sir Crocodile and Mihawk before the day was over when the Cross Guild was formed. You cowered off to the side, keeping up your weak act as you flinched at their raised voices or the light reflecting off Crocodiles golden claw.

They believed you a weak fool who’s only worth was your quick mind and ability to calculate numbers quicker than most computers, which resulted in them mostly dismissing you. It was a role you basked in and felt comfortable, using it to keep your true identity under wraps. That was until they pushed your captain too far, as Crocodile especially seemed to take great pleasure in antagonizing and hurting your captain.

You were protective, most pirates were, if they felt any sense of loyalty to their captain. It was because of that, that you dug up a trusted contact, a celestial dragon with greater access to seastone than anyone else you knew. Using measurements from the moment’s clothes had to be made, a pair of cuffs in just the perfect size soon arrived to you with the post.

It was easy to press Crocodiles buttons, to get him worked up by acting stupid and pathetic, just the way you knew made his blood boil. It was even easier to enrage him so far that he chased after you, so blinded by his anger that he didn’t even notice how you kept avoiding his sand, or how you were leading him further and further away from the rest of the guild.

When he finally caught up, Crocodile caged you against the wall, hook digging into the drywall as he almost snarled down at you, cigar crunched between his teeth as his purple eyes blazed. But mild confusion crossed his face as your fearful expression dropped, his body straightening as your eyes met his head on. Before Crocodile could order an explanation, a feeling of weakness crashed through his body, making his knees buckle enough that you had to catch him, supporting his towering weight and bulk.

His vision swam as you started dragging him along, his feet dragging along the floor because of his height compared to your own. Crocodile felt dizzy and mildly nauseous, his eyes finally catching the heavy bands around his wrist, the one he still had left. “ssseastone?” he slurred out, voice lighter than the growl you were used too, cigar long forgotten somewhere along the journey.

In the beginning, you had planned on torturing him, the blades strapped to your person burning at the thought, but as you threw him down almost carelessly on a barely clad bed, a different through passed through your mind.

A slight thrill ran down your spine as his purple eyes burnt into you, his usual anger still present, but mixed with something else, something deeper and hungrier. Soft pants left Crocodiles lips, sounding faintly struggled as the seastone drained the power from his body, leaving him limp and pliant.

You could see the heat rising to Crocodiles cheekbones as you started stripping off your usual getup, tailcoat slid off your shoulders and neatly folded, top hat placed down with care. “What the hell are you doing…” Crocodile rasped from the bed, his pupils blown as an unfamiliar need unfolded inside him, the familiar thrum of pleasure running through body.

Maybe it was his weakened state, but he swore his cunt was pulsing with need, especially as you unbuttoned the stark white shirt you always wore, revealing a tightly muscled and heavily scarred body underneath, leather straps adorned with vials and weapons stretched across your torso.

Crocodile tried to shuffle his legs, maybe to squeeze his thighs together, or to spread them further apart, he wasn’t sure, but all he could do was a minimal twitch and jolt. “I planned on cutting you up, making you beg for mercy. But from the looks of it… you wouldn’t mind some other kind of discipline” you murmur, almost stalking towards him where Crocodile was splayed out on top of the white sheets.

You could see all his muscles tense as you let your hands climb up his legs, up his thighs and stomach, traveling all the way up his arms towards his hook. A choked off noise leaves Crocodile as you remove his hook with ease, like you had done it a thousand times before, placing it off to the side with care.

“Behave yourself” you tell him, squeezing the sides of his jaw to make his lips part. Crocodile tried to growl or snap a threat, to snap his teeth at you or somehow fight back, but his body was mostly unresponsive, his tongue feeling thick and useless in his mouth.

A shiver of anticipation ran through Crocodile as you moved again, settling between his thick spread thighs. Your eyes met as you reach for his belt, your brow lifting as if asking if he wanted you to stop. You may be a pirate, but you had class and manners, at least when it came to stuff like this.

But when all Crocodile responded with was a sour expression and glare, you make easy work of his belt and slacks, tugging them down his hips and legs, throwing them off to the side with little care. Your disregard for his clothes made Crocodile grumble, but the noise was quickly silenced as you pressed your entire hand against his slick underwear, fingers teasing his hard t-cock and soaked folds.

“Tsk tsk, look at you, bet you just need someone to put you in your place, is that it?” you mumble in an almost mocking tone, looking up at him with an almost feral hunger in your eyes. Crocodile chokes on the words that want to form in his throat, some kind of rebuttal perhaps, that he would never want someone as low as you to do anything to him, but as you pinch his cock between your fingers, it morphs into a shaky moan.

Crocodile’s boxers as easily pulled off, thrown to the floor with a damp plap, making his face redden further as you only find amusement in the obvious sign of his arousal. Kicking off your pants and boxers, you crawl up the bed and sit between his thick thighs, pushing them further apart to expose where he only grows slicker, hole clenching around nothing as if begging you to fill it.

“What would they say, seeing the great Sir Crocodile, spread out like this, ready to take the cock of a feeble weak treasurer” you taunt, pressing your hips closer to his, so that you could drag the tip of your cock up and down through his folds. The act has Crocodile arching as good as he can with the cuff on, his eyes squeezing shut as he clenches his jaw, a breathy noise leaving him, folds only growing slicker around you.

Maybe it was your size difference, with you being average human size, compared to Crocodiles almost 9 feet, or maybe it was his gut deep arousal, but his hole didn’t need much prep for you to be able to fit inside.

That didn’t mean you were just gonna give it to him, since this was supposed to be a lesson. A stuttery moan spills almost silently from Crocodiles lips as your fingers rub through his folds, barely pressing against where he wants you the most. He had never imagined himself in a situation like this, splayed out and dripping for you, someone he had always just seen as a nuisance, but here he was.

“Come on Crocodile… ask nicely” your tone is almost cruel as you push only two fingers inside him, barely felt because of his size, but just enough to rub against his wet gummy insides and leave him aching for more. Crocodiles jaw clenches, barring his teeth as his head weakly rolls to the side, as if to hide his face into the sheets.

“Or… I could just leave you here, thighs spread open, cunt glistening with want. Im sure someone will pass by, and who wouldn’t want a chance to fill this” as if to exaggerate your point, you push two more fingers into his slick hole, burying them as deep as possible into Crocodiles wet insides, punching a gasp out of him.

Crocodile seems to debate it, if he wants to put his pride aside for someone like you, but his thoughtprocess is knocked off course as you pinch his cock with your free hand, twisting it cruelly. Had he not been wearing the seastone cuff, his thighs would have clamped shut and a shout would have left him, but now all his body could do was tense up as a wet keen tumbled out of him.

“P…please” Crocodile finally mumbles, voice small and almost shy, but it can barely be heard over the wet slick sounds of your fingers thrusting in and out of him, his wetness running down your palm and wrist in the process.

“Hm?” you hum, the questioning tone in it clear, as if you didn’t hear him at all, giving his cock another twist just because you could. “fuck me… please…” is gasped out, Crocodiles insides clenching around your slick fingers as they rub and prod around inside him.

Your fingers movements slow to a stop, silence filling the room long enough for Crocodile to peek an eye open and look down at you. Your eyes are intense as they bore into his, the predatory flare in them making Crocodiles insides quiver. “Normally id demand better than that, but I’m starting to pity you” you scoff out, withdrawing your fingers from his hold with a slick noise.

Instead of wiping them off on the sheets, you use the large amount of slick that had gathered in your palm to slick up your shaft, releasing a huffed exhale as Crocodiles eyes widen at the sight. “I’ve thought about making you ride me, so you’ll have to make yourself take it, but we can’t do that right now, can we” you eye the cuff around his one wrist, making Crocodile growl and spit out a weak warbled “fuck you”

His insult carries no heat, clearly only for show, his glare quickly wiped off his face as you finally push inside him. Crocodile needs little time to adjust, resulting in you almost immediately setting a bruising rough pace, drawing in and out of him with loud wet slick noises, his hole gripping onto you as he gasps and moans.

Reaching down, you push his shirt up just enough to splay a hand across his lower stomach, a foxlike grin spreading across your lips as you watch his hips weakly roll into your own. “If you weren’t such an asshole, I could fuck you whenever. Imagine that Crocodile, walking around, cunt leaking my cum, as you try to play tough.” You chuckle darkly, tone thick and hungry in the way only a predatory animal could possess.

As your cock rams into that sensitive spot inside him, Crocodile is finally starting to realize you are truly more than you seem, his cunt drooling a wet puddle under him on the sheets as you take him with a new hunger, a glint appearing in your eyes as your hand presses down harder on his stomach.

“I could knock you up you know, right here.” Is hissed out as you bottom out inside Crocodile, the words making him tighten up and shiver in want. “No one would find you so scary then, would they Crocodile. Waddling around, fat with my kid” you purr, letting both your hands splay across his stomach. It was all fantasy, but by God did it make Crocodile wet and wanting. Something about the fantasy of you, some lesser subordinate knocking him, Sir Crocodile, up, had him seeing double.

The seastone didn’t help with his woozy state, all attempts at forming words only becoming half formed and slurred, Crocodiles eyes going wet and glassy as that familiar feeling spread through his body. “in… inside me…” Crocodile slurs as you curse to yourself, clearly close to the finish line as well. Had it not been for the cuffs, he would have thrown his legs around you, squeezing you against his body to keep you inside him, but all he could do now was beg.

Crocodiles pride crumbled as your fingers squeezed his cock one last time, a pure orgasmic expression crossing his face as he gasped and moaned, his entire body twitching weakly as he came, wetting your cock and the sheets even further as the feeling thrummed through his entire body.

With a deep groan you bottom out inside Crocodile for a last time, letting your eyes squeeze shut as you spill inside him, coating his insides in a thick coat of white. Crocodile whimpers weakly at the feeling, trying to squeeze around you as if to milk your length for more.

He slumps against the sheets further than he already is, eyes falling shut in a relaxed exhausted expression. Crocodile barely notices as you pull out, white leaking out from between his folds to join his own mess on the sheets. He barely even notices you cleaning him up, only twitching and gasping softly when you clean up between his legs.

Its only when the seastone cuff leaves his wrist that Crocodile returns to himself somewhat, as the familiar feeling of his devilfruit washes through his body again. Squinting his eyes open, he catches sight of you getting dressed again, tucking on your shirt, then your coat, and lastly placing your hat on top of your head.

Even with his devilfruit returned to him, Crocodile still feels weak and exhausted, but the good type of exhausted one only gets after a good fuck. Part of him wants to ask you to stay, to hold him and pet his hair, to maybe mumble more dirty fantasies about knocking him up, and how you’d make him live as your pretty little housewife. But instead, Crocodile just grunts to get your attention, his attempt to demand to know where you are going.

“I have to get back to the others, since ill be taking over your duties for the rest of the day and tomorrow” you say, voice resolute and not allowing any denial or struggle. And normally Crocodile would have growled and rejected anyone taking over his duties, but for some reason, the idea of you taking care of him made him relax deeper into the bed, muscles lax and thoughts empty and calm for once.

Approaching him, you press a soft kiss to his forehead before telling him “this room is hidden away from everyone else, so take all the time you need. Ill check up on you later” as you pat his cheek. After telling him where the bathroom is, where he could find towels and replacement sheets and blankets, you were on your way, leaving Crocodile on his lonesome.

It took a while, but he finally pushed himself into a seated position before getting to his feet. The feeling of your cum trickling down the insides of his thighs as the familiar heat of arousal burning inside him once more, making Crocodile shuffle towards the bathroom you had pointed him towards. Even though you had just left, he could still get himself off a few more times from just the memory alone.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be disciplined by you, he wondered how you’d react if he caused issues with your smuggling routes. The idea sent a line of heat up his spine as he stepped into the shower, hand quickly traveling between his thighs, fingers burying themselves into his still sensitive hole, fantasies of hungry glare and cruel fingers filling his mind.

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sukunasdumbestchef · 8 months

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way how i see you (long story version)

trueform!Sukuna x Blind!fem!reader.

꒰A beautiful woman, with a pleasant life, nothing could get better… However, one unexpected day put you in a horrible situation, your husband beat you to have money and 'honor', putting you in an arranged marriage with the cruel and merciless Ryomen Sukuna. However, you hide a secret, you are blind.꒱

╭ ➤୨୧ Warning: Angsty, Arranged marriage, [name] had a shitty husband. Crap story with crap writing (I have no self confidence <3)

╭ ➤୨୧ Words: + 2,6 what? It looks much bigger when writing…

the other version

bad english.

For obvious reasons, your life changed drastically after your vision got worse, the world around you lost its colors and beauty every day.

Her world became just silhouettes moving around, almost colorless and blurred. But, you were aware of some things, just by looking at the silhouettes, you know how to differentiate an animal from a human, or if someone uses hair accessories. You weren't completely blind, but you were blind enough to be considered blind and have difficulties.

However, you noticed that no one noticed your loss of vision. You continued your life, pretending everything was fine. Your loss of vision became a big secret, which you tried hard to keep, afraid that your life would get worse and you would end up alone.

Today in the village, someone caught everyone's attention, you couldn't see the person properly, but you recognized a male voice. The man informed everyone in the village with his loud and clear voice: "… The King of Curses wants volunteers for a marriage…" These were the words that left everyone's jaw dropped, he continued "… The most eye-catching one will win, and the family will gain reward and honor." And that was it, the entire crowd was speechless, moved by money and the honor of marrying such a grotesque but divine man as the King of Curses. But most of all, the people were afraid to refuse, that the king would get enraged and end their lives and stories in the blink of an eye.

You obviously refused, there are so many other women, all different and talented. You were heading back to your home, but you were stopped by your own husband, a grip your arm. "Where are you going? Didn't you listen to him? You're perfect…" He says, you look at him confused. The husband pulled her back to that man, raising his arm against her will, you try to push him away. "Here! This young lady! The most beautiful! The most intelligent! Take her with you!" Her husband screamed, you pushed him, accidentally hitting him in the face, you successfully let go of his grip. You were going to retort, but people pushed you to follow the girls and the two people.

You can't see anything, the silhouettes will blend together and you won't be able to distinguish the crowd of people. You felt a strong grip on your arm, your eye noticed something light in color and a voice said. "Start walking, we don't have all day." You analyzed where the voice came from, without success when trying to differentiate which gender this voice was from. However, the light-colored clothing made it easier to follow.

You were probably crying already, turned around, seeing only the big gate of the village, you couldn't even see your husband anymore… who literally gave you to another man as merchandise. Eyes filled with tears, which made it even more difficult to see. Just follow the white silhouette, said to yourself.

The walk was completely silent. They walked for around 20 minutes or more, you saw a house… you think… your doubt was answered with the sound of the door sliding, and the silhouettes entering. You listened and counted the steps of others, locating yourself and finding out where the steps would be. You were mentally thankful that it was bright inside, the light and dark tones of people's kimonos were different, as was their hair.

"Ladies, these women are going to help you get ready for the big meeting with the king." The male voice said.

"I hope you are not reckless and disrespectful towards the king, know your place, and only speak if he addresses you…" The person with light hair said, this person sounded colder and crueler than the other guy. But, they was giving you a warning so you don't die because of stupidity…

You followed the other volunteers, it was a pleasant room, you guessed it by the good freshly cleaned smell. All the silhouettes sat on the floor facing each other. You did do the same. You hear footsteps coming your way, a silhouette of… a kimono? Flowery? You kick what this person wears. They sit in front of you, "Good afternoon, lady. I'm here to help you dress up formally and beautiful for the king's presence" sounds like a sweet old woman. You smiled, and greeted her.

"Good afternoon ma'am, I appreciate the help" You really appreciate it, it would be a great difficulty to put on makeup and pretend to see clearly.

"Alright, let's begin. The king will come soon…" The woman quickly begins to put white powder on her face, and she touches her lips with a reddish tone. "There, you're very beautiful, my lady…" You felt flushed with the compliment.

"Thank you, but is that all I need to look beautiful in front of the king?" You ask, you actually don't care… you just wanted to get out of here, but… you have no choice.

"The king said he preferred it this way, so he would have a clear view of their natural faces… but, I'm sure he doesn't care." She answered him, giving a small laugh as she stood up. You got up and she helped you put on a Jūnihitoe.

Despite the compliments murmured by the old women, the happy noises from the other volunteers for also wearing a jūnihitoe. You have a huge desire to see yourself wearing this outfit, it wasn't the first time, you wore one like it at your wedding. But, despite the compliments you receive… You didn't see all the details, colors or designs on the fabric. With that all the sadness mixed, you came back to reality… Your husband 'sold' you and you are volunteering to marry the cruelest curse… and what will happen if he doesn't like you?

"You have sad eyes." A whisper from the sweet lady made you come back. You removed the water from your eyes with a finger. "You are so beautiful…. I hope you change that king's cold heart. But even if he doesn't choose you as his wife, maybe you can be a maid or something…" She said, as if it was a good thing.

"No… I'm sure that won't happen." You replied, your voice cracked in the sentence.

"Why?" She asked.

"My eyes are no good… normal people already leave me aside because of that… I imagine he'll throw me away like an animal." You explained, not directly saying it, but it seems that from the small gasp of surprise you heard, she understood.

"Oh, my poor girl… Are you blind? This… is horrible… You can't…" She seems lost for words, but you already anticipated a reaction like this. Before you could speak, the door opens.

"In positions, now. The King of Curses is here and wants this to happen quickly." Someone said, probably the person with white hair. You all took a stand. The sweet woman helped you and whispered:

"I have hope in you." Your expression softened upon hearing the woman's sweet and motivating phrase, even if you don't know her. You really needed that, some comfort.

But that warm feeling in your heart turned into creeps and an overwhelming fear throughout the body, as if you were going to die. Your breathing becomes irregular, thinking if you make one small mistake, everything will result in your dead body on the floor.

Your keen addition hears heavy footsteps in the distance, approaching. The door slides open, making your body shake in harmony. Was it him? You couldn't say, but you looked up for a moment, it was a huge silhouette, you felt a thunderous and terrifying presence and aura. It was him, definitely. The king, Ryomen Sukuna, was in the same place as you.

Swallowed dryly, you felt your throat catch in the process. Your clothes started to itch. You nearly screamed when you felt a poke on your arm.

"Slowly lower yourself to the ground and bow in respect to the king, without eye contact."

That sweet woman whispered to you. Then, you get on your knees, and place your forehead on the floor, your body as close to the floor as possible. Soon after, the entire room becomes silent.

"Get up."

A husky voice spoke to all of you. it was a dark and haunting melody tone worthy of a merciless king that everyone must obey and fear.

At the same moment everyone got up. You hear a snap of fingers that causes a scream from one of the voluteries, a large fall was heard and another followed. Your eyes popped out when you heard the terrible noises, your mind had already formed a terrifying scene. Moving only your eyes, you peeked in the corner of your eye, everything was even more blurry, things started to mix up and you couldn't differentiate

You felt a thousand things at once. Your mind and heart are racing, your entire body is shaking, even your teeth, your eyes are watering, but you hold on, not being able to let even a single tear fall.

Sukuna's large silhouette approached, you could hear the cries of one of the volunteers. Her crying was cut short, replaced by another fall.

"How dare you look at me without permission? Stupid woman… died like the other two. Am I wasting time?" Sukuna complained, giving you goosebumps. They really died…dead, by doing…nothing.

Keeping your head slightly lowered, you're sure you could die just looking at him, and you're not even sure where you're looking, your tears made everything worse. While you were trying to figure out what was going on, you saw something move. Before you tried to find out, you felt a strong poke on your arm, on the side where the sweet old woman was.

Sukuna stared at you, you heard a light chuckle. "Look at me." he ordered. You lifted your face, thanks to the lights you notice his shadow, he is much taller than you. You find yourself imagining his face, your vision of his face was all mixed tones. "You're pale." You didn't respond to him….should you do that?

You saw something approaching his face, it was a hand but there was something dark on it, like bracelets or something. A light touch on your face, but the hand was big and rough, you denied the possibility of it being his, because you didn't believe he would do that. After that, you felt him put strong pressure on your chin, moving your head to the side.

"You're so scared that you don't even know where you should face…" he laughed arrogantly again, and removed his hand. You remain silent, and you see him move again. "I'll…take this one."

Who? You? She herself couldn't say, she wiped her tears trying to see better, and you felt someone approaching you

"You did it…he chose you…" The sweet old woman told you, which made you open your eyes wide in surprise, gasping. You could see the big smile of the old woman, which made you do the same.

"I didn't even know what happened…I feel relieved, thank you very much ma'am!" You thanked her, but you should now follow Sukuna, before that you and the woman removed the junihitoe, returning to wearing your clothes. The lady accompanied you outside, where it was still light and daylight. The wind made you take a deep breath after a long time of suffocation.

"Now…you're after him…Have a great life, my lady…" The lady said, it seems like she mumbled something to someone, but you were very happy to have lived to pay attention. The lady left, and you waved to her, soon after following the huge silhouette of your newest husband and king.

It was a very silent walk, no one said anything, including you. But, all the events made you exhausted, all you wanted was a nap or something like that. But you feel like this is just the beginning.

Now, lifting your head, seeing the enormous light of the setting sun, saying goodbye to the day. You wanted to ask if you were arriving, it would be difficult to walk in the dark. As you walked, you reached the residence where Ryomen stayed. The king entered without saying anything, you feel he was stressed…

"We're here, now back off" The monotonous voice said, you turned to them, thinking it had been addressed to you. The white-haired person just kicked that man out, and turned to you. "This is your new home, make yourself at home I guess." Now they talk to you, you nod your head, turning inside.

It was very empty…. there was only a candle, you couldn't see anything else.

"I am Uraume." They identified themselves, bending down in front of you. "You must be [name], am I right?" , you nodded again, forcing a smile, Uraume seems not to have done the same.

"Yes…" was the only thing you replied, you feel an awkwardness between you two, honestly, you think that this Uraume shouldn't even be human, they seem to be close to Sukuna however…

The room seemed to get darker, meaning it was harder to see. You look around, nervous. Until Uraume interrupts you: "Do you have… something to tell?" This question made you open your eyes, worrying that you weren't hiding the fact of your blindness much. You quickly shake your head

"No, no… I have nothin-"

"You're lying, forgive my impudence. Do you have vision loss?" They interrupted you abruptly, but they at least apologized to you. The direct and raw question made your body freeze and your jaw drop slightly. It seems like your acting failed…

"N-No.. how… wait"

"The old lady told me. I wanted to confirm by asking you." They explained. You felt like…you were going to die or something, like you had committed a sin… You swallowed and took a deep breath, ready to admit everything:

"Yes…I have…I- I'm blind" You said, feeling the tears "But not completely! I can see you…not now, but… I- I can pretend to see everything' I- don't tell him." You made a desperate mess explaining to them, and you still couldn't even see Uraume's reaction.

"I would tell you, but… I think it's better that you tell him, when you're ready, I advise you to be quick though… My king has no patience, and don't keep any other secrets from him…" Uraume replied, in his voice, It wasn't surprising that his secret was exposed. You nodded, wiping away your tears. "Now…I'm going to guide you to your room, I'm going to make sure to keep it well lit, does that help?"

"Yes…" you replied, feeling their extremely cold hand on your arm, they murmured 'excuse me' and guided you to a room, they helped you sit on the floor. The room was pure pitch black, you could see absolutely nothing. Did you hear them leave, is that it? Will they leave you here alone? Even if-

"Here, these are the only candles we have.." They comeback, and lit the candles, but you still didn't see anything, but… you appreciated their action. They poked you, and handed you a cloth. "It's a newer and cleaner kimono, you'll have to dine next to the king every day. Do you need help putting it on?"

"No, thank you. But I'm going to need help getting to… get to where dinner will be." You explained.

"Yes, I understand. I'll be outside the door, you can call me when you're done." You nodded and heard them leave. Now, you needed to get dressed. It wasn't that difficult for someone experienced like you. You sat on the floor, feeling the kimono, knowing what the front of it was. You got dressed. Now…you're going to face a horrendous moment, having dinner with the king… And worse, you have to find a way to tell him your secret.

Feeling fear cover his entire body, thinking about the possibilities he could do when he finds out. Your hot tears returned, you remained on the floor having your little moment. Until the door opens and:

"[Name], Sukuna wants you there now…are you ready?"

That's it, I didn't continue because I thought it would be too long………..

I have a few things to say:

Thank you very much for the notification, I'm really happy. And I'm not posting anything because I was a little busy with things in life..

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk x reader #true form sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen

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yuurei20 · 6 months

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Continuing from a previous ask : what are easier / harder / Malleus-level magics? (easier / vague magics listed here, harder magics listed here, "precision magic" here) Part 4/4

Malleus' Magic

Teleportation:

Malleus seems to be capable of at least two different kinds of teleportation, one that appears identical to Lilia's ability to teleport and one that involves green flames. The only time we have seen him use the green flames was when he brought Silver along with him, so it is possible they are a side effect of having a passenger (or they may have just been for dramatic effect. Crowley comments on Malleus' ability to make a bold entrance in a vignette).

There is also the teleportation spell he uses in his vignette to link the Mirror Chamber to Diasomnia, transporting all the housewardens and Crowley against their will.

Returning to "proper" place/shape/form:

Malleus has used this spell three times now, once to return the coliseum back to how it was before Vil's overblot (which he describes as "even more trifling of a task than re-weaving unraveled fabric") and then again to return Vil to his proper age.

Malleus explains that even he cannot turn back time, and the spell involved him sharing magic with Vil. While a seemingly impressive feat, Malleus later says that it required "a paltry amount of magic" from him.

After the VDC, Ambrose LXIII says that he is "picking up traces of large-scale magic all over the coliseum," but it is never explained if it was Malleus' magic or Vil's overblot (or the combination of both) that he was sensing.

The third time is during Spectral Soiree, when he returns the "Sparkling Hall" to its true form and we learn that he doesn't even need to have seen what the "true form" of a person or thing is in advance.

Weather:

Lilia says that Malleus has been magically controlling the weather since he was a child, breaking boulders with lightning bolts when he threw tantrums.

Malleus threatens Magicam Monsters with lightning when they enrage him, summons thunder at the beginning of Firelit Sky when Jamil is reluctant to allow him to join the group and summons a powerful lightning strike out of rage at Rollo.

He also tells a story about nearly freezing the entire castle in which he lived (and all the people in it) as a child, "back when (he'd) finally started walking on two legs."

All of this combined with how he unconsciously summons a blizzard in Book 7 seem to hint that his weather-based powers may not be entirely under his own control, but during Halloween he consciously summons lightning to frighten Magicam Monsters away.

Attacks:

Malleus will occasionally threaten the use of attack-magic, but what it might entail (Lightning? Fire?) is not shown or explained.

Flight:

Like Lilia, Malleus does not require a broom for flight. He says that he has enough power to fly to anywhere in the world that he wishes.

Other Malleus magics we have seen and/or heard about are: ・Animating the long display at Ramshackle Dorm during Halloween ・Stopping time on campus (using his own power combined with the school's barrier and ghost-magic) and trapping everyone at the school

・Growing enough briar to fill Diasomnia ・Washing clothes

・Dualcasting wind and fire magic simultaneously ("It doesn't have to be be a tornado!" - Deuce) ・Summoning rare ore ・"Fire-breathing magic" (unclear if this is limited to his dragon form or if he can breathe fire all of the time)

・Levitating a truck ("I'm pretty sure only Malleus could pull off a feat like that…" - Epel) ・Using fire magic to light all the lanterns in Briar Valley ・Creating a tuxedo look for Lilia

#twstask #twisted wonderland

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trappedinafantasy37 · 19 days

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"Weeeh! I wanna recruit Minthara on a good playthrough! Weeeh! I don't like the ultimatum and want to keep both Minthara and Halsin! Weeeh! I wanna make Minthara good! Weeeh! I don't want Minthara to break up with me!" Minthara deserves more content but none of these things are at all what she needs or deserves. No, these are all things that you want for yourself, but do absolutely nothing for her. This is one of the biggest L's in the game and it will forever enrage me because I just know it will never happen.

Minthara deserves to confront Orin like all the other companions do with their abusers. She deserves to scream and yell at Orin. She deserves to cut at her the same way Orin did, make her bleed and scream in pain. Minthara deserves to torture Orin, just as she did her in the mind flayer colony. Minthara deserves the right to roll up to the Temple of Bhaal and beat the shit out of Orin with her bare hands. Leave Orin begging for mercy in which Minthara will not even give her a drop. To slam Orin down on that altar and slice her throat, offer her up as a sacrifice to the father she is so blindly devoted to.

And yes, Minthara would be afraid. She would be TERRIFIED. Despite how strong and powerful Minthara is, she is also the only one afraid of Orin. Unlike Ketheric, or Gortash, or Sarevok, she is the only one who fully acknowledges just how dangerous Orin actually is and does not underestimate her. She will walk down into that temple, intending to duel Orin with a massive disadvantage because she is terrified.

Minthara choked when seeing Orin again in the mind flayer colony. She choked when seeing Orin as an imposter, throwing her deep into the ocean of paranoia and fear. And she is so entrenched in paranoia that it actually becomes palpable to everyone around her, even you. She describes herself as paranoid, but this is the first that you actually see how paranoid she is. And she choked again when Orin kidnapped someone in camp, making her feel inadequate, making a mockery of her for being unable to protect one of her own. And every day that passes, the more and more likely that the victim is going to die and she has doubts on their survival.

At every possible avenue in which Minthara could have done something or said something about Orin, she froze in place with fear. But she's had enough. She cannot be afraid of Orin forever and she doesn't want to be. One way or another, Orin has to die and she wants to get over that fear. She needs to know that Orin is dead, for herself.

This would also make the alurlssrin confession all the more impactful. She wants to tell you that she loves you in the best way that she can because of the very high likelihood that she will never have another chance to do so. She would beg you to come with her as you give her the courage. She has the courage to face her fears and confront her tormentor, because she knows she has you in her corner. If you have the courage to stand up to the very gods themselves, then she can stand up to Orin. Romanced or not, your presence alone is enough to give her the strength to do something she would otherwise be too terrified to do.

Minthara deserves the honor to solo duel Orin in a fight to the death. Minthara deserves the right to achieve vengeance for herself. No, I do not care that this confrontation would conflict with a Durge playthrough. In fact, it would provide a phenomenal source of some interesting, and toxic, drama between Durge and Minthara. Especially if they're in a relationship. This also does not mean that Minthara killing Orin instead of Durge would not have its consequences (because it most certainly will). Even if Minthara does not fight Orin, it would be so much better if Minthara was just given the fucking chance to yell at Orin like all the other companions in their personal quests.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #minthara #minthara baenre #evil murder kitten #orin #orin the the red #i spend a lot of time theorizing what a good personal quest for minthara would look like #and i've even written a mock up personal quest for her #one in which could have a major impact on minthara's character and who she chooses to become in the end #but instead - all of you 'good only' players focus on the wrong things and would prefer to bastardize her character #just so you can feel better about yourselves #rather than look at what minthara needs for a proper character arc and genuine character growth #minthara's change should not nor should ever be along the lines of morality #but a deeply personal and internal one in which she makes the choice to change for herself #if minthara ever were to get more content #it absolutely should be about direct interactions and a confrontation with orin #i literally do not and cannot care about the rest #but she will never get what she actually needs because the whiny babies who don't appreciate her character #are crying and demanding all the wrong things that do absolutely nothing for her #and larian is bending over backwards and breaking her character just to make *you* happy #and denying her the justice she deserves #this is literally the only thing on my wish list for patch 7 - but i know it just won't happen #but i will hang on to the hope that i am proven wrong once it does release

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meiluu · 10 months

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“Touch Her, and I’ll Kill You”

Leon S. Kennedy/ AFAB!Reader [no gendered pronouns, if there are let me know so I can fix it :D] cw: SMUT 18+, blood & gore, Leon goes feral, protective Leon, Plaga!Leon. Terms you may not be familiar with and their meanings: Round- the entire bullet and its casing, the bullet is the tip and the casing is the metal that surrounds it and holds gun powder which allows for the bullet to travel when the gun powder is ignited. Magazine- the term for rounds that are incased in either a type of metal or hard plastic and feed into a handgun or a rifle from the bottom. It is not the same as a ‘clip’.

not edited

Leon pov.

Leon was beyond pissed, this mission to save the presidents' daughter had gone from bad to fucking horrible. He was lucky enough to have another agent along with him, you. Someone who Leon cared for-trusted and you had been separated from him and Ashley. And he was losing what last bit of sanity he had left, he knew that you were strong, capable and so smart. All logic pointed to you being able to hold your own until they were able to find you, or until you found them. But Leon's heart was overruling his brain, taking full control, as his mind was in overdrive as it pushed each of his senses and his knowledge to try and find you. And all of this was pushed into the extremes now because of Leon being infected with the Las Plaga.

Saddler wished he could control the lethality that Leon possessed but the Plaga that he had been infected with seemed wholly under Leon's control and wouldn't respond to his commands.

With his guns at the ready, knife sharp enough to cut through anything, Leon was prepared to go to hell and back to get you. Having heard some spanish grumbles from one of the infected villagers giving him a much needed lead to find you. The chill air of the night nipping at his arms, the darkness of the night keeping him concealed as he made his way to a decrepit building. Turning back to make sure that Ashley was still in the secure spot he left her in- satisfied that she wasn't following him, he continued onward. Gun at the ready as he silently made his way into the building, once inside he made quick work of scanning his surroundings seeing no infecteds around, he moved further in. Footsteps light, measured breathing as Leon moved with a purpose, but that all falters when he hears your enraged cry.

There are hundreds if not thousands of stories out there that talk about feeling so angry that you see red. Stories of people blacking out as they fight whoever it was that threatened them or someone they cared about. That was not the case here. Leon has never felt so focused than now, as he ran to the sound of your cry. Reaching a room with dozens of infecteds along with a grotesque monster trying to give you the las plaga. What was only a few seconds, felt like an eternity in Leon's mind. His vision had completely zeroed in on the monster in front of you, his mind coming up with the perfect way to get you out and kill everything within this room. Then he was moving.

Firing off three rounds into the monster, in its faltered state it let go of you, letting you fall to the hard floor below you. Running towards you in long strides, Leon grabs your arm flinging you behind him- sliding you across the floor towards the entranceway of the room. Unnatural strength that only the las plaga could give him, using every facet to his advantage.

By the time the creature had gained it bearings Leon was right in its face, grabbing onto the creatures deformed face- bringing it down to ground. Smashing its skull into the concrete floor, its dark red blood splattering onto the ground and onto him. Raising his head he saw the swarm of infecteds running towards him- quickly aiming his sights onto the closest ones. Seven more rounds leave his gun, seven infected fall to the ground with 9mm holes through their skulls. Hearing the click of an empty magazine, with not enough time to reload Leon's holstering his gun and grabbing his knife. With an infected near inches from his face, he's stabbing the knife into its skull- a satisfied squelch greets Leon's ears. Its face falls as the life in its eyes is smothered out. Retching his knife from the skull, he's swinging wide cutting another infected’s neck-nearly taking its head off its shoulders. Both of their bodies crumbled to the ground- but there are more headed his way.

Eyes that no longer held that sky blue color but instead were a red crimson with black veins standing out against his skin that became more prominent as he fought. With the last infected slumping to the ground with its decapitated head being carelessly flung to the floor. Breathing hard, shoulders rising in falling as Leon gains control over his breathing again. Satisfied that there was no more threats within the room he's turning back to where you were still sat near the entrance. Your face was marred with a shocked expression, a mix of fear and awe at what you had just witnessed. "Are you ok?" Leon's voice is husky with exertion, your eyes meet his as you nod your head. With quick long strides Leon closes the distance between you two.

Picking you up from the floor like you weighed nothing bringing you into his embrace, burying his head into the crook of your neck inhaling your mouth-watering scent. Letting it ground him, he had found you and you were okay. His arms were wrapped tight around your waist, he felt your arms hesitantly wrap around his shoulders. "I'm okay, Leon. Are you?" your voice was nervous. Not that you didn't secretly relish with the embrace from someone who you had been crushing on for awhile but after what you saw you were a bit afraid of pushing him too far. Though somewhere in the back of your mind you knew Leon would never hurt you- even with the plaga, within him. "Yes." a short and gruff reply was all you got from him.

"Where's Ashley?"

"Safe."

"Ok, lets go meet back up with her so we can get you both help."

"No."

"Leon-" unable to finish as Leon warm tongue is licking a long stripe from the base of your neck to the spot right below your ear. "You smell so good, we don't have to leave now." his voice is smooth and full of desire. "But we-" a soft gasp interrupts you, as Leon gently bites into the sensitive skin of your neck. “Let me have you.” His words are rough as he says them into your skin. Your mind blanks, there’s no way this is happening right now! “Leon- right here?!”

“Yes here, now.” No hesitation to be found in his proclamation. Maybe it was the fact that his scent was overwhelming your senses or maybe it was the fact that you’ve dreamed about being with him (maybe not like this). Whatever the case your mind was giving into his advances just like your body had already surrendered to him. Not that there was really ever a want to ‘fight’.

“Ok, but what if someone comes in here?"

“I’ll hear them before they get that close to us.” So assured of himself, no room for doubt. But you never had reason to doubt him and his capabilities.

And with some of your worries eased Leon is lifting his head from your neck. Locking his gaze with yours, his once beautiful baby blue orbs are a vicious red with black veins to accentuate them. You knew this was because of the plaga but it seemed that he had full control over himself- unlike the other people who were infected. But your thoughts are halted by his soft lips claiming yours.

Eyes fluttering shut at the sweetness of his taste, a gentle dance that quickly turns heavy as Leon nips at your bottom lip- pushing in his tongue to dance with yours. A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through Leon's chest, the intoxicating taste of you has his body burning with need. Pulling you both down onto the hard floor, lips still locked together- soft gasps of air echoing out in the space around you. Your hands are running through Leon's soft blond locks as his hands drift down. Rubbing his thumbs over your pebbling nipples eliciting a whimper from your swollen lips, hands leaving a fiery trail down towards your navel but then he is pulling his hands away from you. A pathetic sound leaves your lips at the lose of his warmth but you are quick to shut up when your eyes catch onto his teeth pulling off his gloves from his hands, discarding them like trash.

And as quickly as those gloves where thrown away are his hand back onto you, pulling up your shirt, his calloused hands caress the soft flesh of your navel. One hand travel up back to your left breast as the other dips below the waist of your pants going straight to your neglected clit. "Leon." a breathy moan of his name leaves you as he begins to swirl your clit with his thumb while two of his fingers work you open- stretching you out. The hand that had been massaging your breast retreats from under your shirt as it goes to unstrap your leather harness where your empty gun rests in. Clattering to the ground Leon pulls your shirt off of you- freeing your tits. Leaving your mouth his head is headed down taking a perked nipple into his warm mouth- swirling his tongue and softly nipping at it. Making sure not abandon the other nipple as he gives the same treatment to it.

With all of his combined menstruations your already close to your peak, fingers diligently pumping into you at a stead pace, clit buzzing in ecstasy while your chest radiates pleasured tingles throughout your body. Mouth hanging open to allow all your noises of pleasure to run free, but before you can reach that blinding peak Leon is harshly removing himself from you. A cry leaves you, you were so close, eyes raising from where they had been watching Leon worship your breasts. Now your eyes are watching Leon as he sits up on his knees, undoing his belt nearly ripping it in half. Then shoving his pants down along with his boxers- freeing his cock. Precum dibbles down the angry tip- weeping in anticipation. His hands soon find your pants yanking them down and off of you along with your drenched panties.

Your arousal hits Leon at full force now that there was no barriers between your cunt and him. Every basic instinct within him coiled with his care for you and then amplified by the plaga had turned him to a much more raw version of himself. This, what he was doing to you, was something so much more than just fuckin someone who he cared about or found attractive. (Both of those things were true). He needed you like he needed air, you had always balanced him out and you both were always so in sync with one another. Maybe it was the plaga within his veins, but at the end of the day, in the back of Leon's mind he knew all of this was true. He needed to fuck you so that you knew how much he needed you- in his plaga riddled mind combined with the past adrenaline of trying to find you and nearly going insane without you beside him- it made perfect sense to him. You were his just like how he was yours, wholly and completely yours.

He killed for you and would do it again without hesitation, he would search to the ends of the earth to find you if you became lost. And so, warm and calloused hands pulled you to him- no space left between- cock bumping against your clit and then was pushed into your wet heat. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the fullness, something you hadn't experience before. His pelvis meeting yours, hilt buried deep within you, he had reached heaven and nothing could ever compare to this feeling of being in your embrace. Grabbing your legs and placing them upon his shoulders, leaning down until his face was right above yours- with his hands now down below at the base of your spine lifting you up for him to fuck into as deep as possible.

Rough and deep was the pace Leon set, your moans unashamedly are cried out into the air around you. Not like you had a chance to smother your noises- how could you when he was hitting the inner most parts of you? With the tip of his cock bruising your g-spot as it sweetly kissed your cervix.

He was utterly ruining you, nothing would ever top this, you could never fuck anyone else without thinking of him. But would you want to fuck anyone else besides him? No, he was so perfect, the two of you fit each other so well why would you want anything else?

Deep groans mixed with husky moans tumble from his beautiful mouth, hypnotizing you in their melody. Your mind was dripping out of your ears to make room for the mind-numbing pleasure his cock was giving you. Every vein and ridge massaging your walls just right, the girth stretching you out to near pain and his length was able to mold you into the perfect cocksleeve for him. "Fuck-Fuck," Leon's words are rough with exertion, but he never once slowed down his pace.

Skin slapping against skin, the lovely sound of your cunt squelching with ever thrust of his cock into you, all in tandem with his full balls hitting your ass. Your peaking is coiling tight within your belly, and it snaps before you can even voice it to Leon, cunt erratically spasming around him milking him for his own release. With a couple more thrust Leon is burying himself as deep as he can get, as his balls tighten, releasing every drop of cum within your warm cunt. Pants leave him as you both try to come down from that earth shattering orgasm. And just as you think Leon's going to pull out of you he's turning you onto your stomach, leaning over you- shadowing your body with his- as he starts fucking with just as much vigor as before.

"Leon!"

"I'm not done with you yet-"

Mind going hazy with pleasure as your cunt lovingly continues to suck in his cock- obviously on the same page with Leon. You needed more and he was going to deliver on that. Somewhere in the back of your mind you hoped that Ashley was safe, where ever she was because you and Leon would be here for a long while.

*hehe i've cooking this one for awhile, hopefully y'all enjoy it >:) *

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antiquitiesandlabyrinths · 6 months

Note

. . .Osiris

Osiris (Great and Beautiful is He) is the God of the Underworld; its King and Pharaoh ruling over the Duat. He is pictured here on the far left, His skin green and His body in mummiform. This is commonly how He is depicted; as a green-skinned, mummified man.

Son of Nut, the Sky Goddess, and Geb, the Earth God, Osiris was the first King of Egypt in accordance with Kemetic mythology, although there are stories that recount Geb, His father, being King before Him. There are a great deal of myths and stories that surround and involve Osiris, and I suppose it is important to at least skim over them before discussing hard facts about Him, as it gives some reference as to who He is and what the culture surrounding Him is like.

Osiris Myth

After the world was created, the Demiurge (who changes according to myth, and can be Neith, Ra, Amun, Ptah, or others) produces children; in the most popular form of this creation story, it is usually Ra who births the first Gods. They are Shu and Tefnut, Air and Moisture. Shu and Tefnut then form a union and birth two children of Their own: Nut and Geb, Sky and Earth. Nut and Geb were very much in love and refused to separate from each other, which, of course, caused a problem, because if the sky and the earth are eternally in contact, there is no space for anything to live and walk upon the earth. Ra made it so Nut and Geb were forever separated, by having Shu, air, stand atop Geb and hold Nut up as the sky. But Nut was already pregnant. When Ra discovered this, He was enraged, and forbade Nut from ever giving birth on any day of the year.

Nut cried to Djehuty (Thoth), and Thoth devised a plan. He went to Khonsu, God of the Moon, and set up a gamble, saying that every round of the game Senet Khonsu lost, He would have to give Nut some of His moonlight. Khonsu ended up losing so many times that Nut had enough moonlight for five days––five days that weren't in the calendar. This allowed Her to give birth on those five days, and on each day She had a different child; Ausir (Osiris), Wr-Heru (Horus the Elder), Sutekh (Set, Seth), Auset (Isis), and Nebet-Het (Nephthys). Nut and Geb were still forever separated by atmosphere (Shu), but the five Gods were birthed, and Osiris, as the eldest son, became King of the Living World.

As a side note, all Gods do have ancient Egyptian names which are different from Their Greek and now modern names. For convenience's sake, and to avoid confusion, I will use the names They are most known by; Their Greek/modern names. And as another side note, there are a lot of variations on this story. I will be piecing together a lot of different ideas but I will be leaving some things out for the sake of cohesion.

When Osiris came to Egypt, He found the people there to be chaotic and lawless. As King, He instituted laws and spread ma'at, which is truth, justice, harmony, and order. Egypt flourished under His rule and the people were incredibly happy, as all were equal, and with the fertility of the God-King, the crops were always bountiful and food was plenty. He brought not only law and prosperity, but also the right way to worship, and the teachings of agriculture.

Set, God of chaos, confusion, the desert, and of foreigners, and the youngest brother of the Ennead, grew to be quite jealous of His older brother. There are many variations and the most popular variation of this story comes from the end of the New Kingdom (1550-1070 BC), where Set fashions a fabulous coffin in the perfect measurements of Osiris, throws a party, and tells the party-goers that whomever the coffin fits may have the coffin as a gift. When Osiris fits perfectly, Set quickly shuts and bolts the coffin and throws it in the Nile (this version of the myth gives an origin to the idea that people who drowned in the Nile were holy). His coffin drifts downstream and into the Mediterranean, where it washes ashore in Phoenicia, in Byblos. The coffin wedges itself into a growing tamarisk tree, a tree which envelops the coffin. Eventually the tree is cut down and used as a pillar in the palace in Byblos.

Isis, Osiris' wife and sister, searched far and wide for Her husband, and did eventually find Herself in Byblos. The story is quite long and complicated, but in the end She convinced the King to give Her the pillar, and when she returned to Egypt, She hid Osiris in a swampy area of the Nile delta, and bade Her sister, Nephthys, to watch over Him while She went in search of healing herbs. But Seth heard that Osiris was back, and so after interrogating His sister-wife, Nephthys, He found Osiris, cut His body into pieces, and threw them into the Nile.

Isis was horrified at what transpired in Her absence, but She immediately set to work on finding the many pieces of Her husband with the help of Her sister, Nephthys. They managed to find every piece of His body except His phallus, which had been eaten by an oxyrhyncus fish, a fish that was thus forbidden to eat.

With the pieces of Osiris reassembled, and the healing powers of Isis in full power, Osiris was brought back to life, but incomplete. Isis assumed the form of a kite, and from above drew out the seed of Osiris, impregnating Herself with Their child: Horus the Younger. But Osiris, still incomplete, could not properly rule over the land of the living any longer.

This is why He is the ruler of the dead––He was once the king of the living, was killed, and was resurrected, and this is what every ancient Egyptian expected and hoped would happen to them: that they would die and be resurrected. In tombs and mortuary temples you will always see Pharaohs associating themselves with Osiris.

But this long myth I have just told you is not the only version of the story, and in my opinion, it is definitely the longest version of the story. Back in the Old Kingdom and Middle Kingdom there were several different versions; for example, Set's motive is different, ranging from revenge for Osiris kicking him, to revenge for Nephthys (Seth's sister-wife) sleeping with Osiris (which eventually births Anubis). Some texts claim that Seth took on the form of a wild animal, such as a crocodile or a hippopotamus, and killed Osiris that way. In others, Osiris is drowned. In some, the steps surrounding the coffin are skipped, and Osiris is simply cut up, and His pieces scattered around Egypt; a version which explains the many cult centers of Osiris claiming to be a place where Osiris is buried. Osiris' resurrection is also often helped along by other Gods such as Thoth (God of wisdom) and Anubis (God of embalming). In some versions, Set is killed for His actions. In most He is simply defeated and driven from the land, as chaos is necessary for balance and harmony, and thus cannot be killed. And the story that I have told is from the Late Period, recorded by Plutarch, and does not really go along with many Egyptian accounts, which often find Osiris' penis intact.

So that is the Osiris myth with all of its' intricacies and changing rhythms over the course of 4,000 years of Egyptian history. It embodies a huge amount of cultural practices and religious ideas within ancient Egypt, including the idea of truth, harmony, and justice, as well as resurrection, the afterlife, healing, and the workings of the cosmos. I've decided to leave out the later parts involving Osiris' son, Horus, and His fight with Set, for now because this does not directly involve Osiris, and that is our topic for this post.

Tradition, History, and Culture

Worship of Osiris dates back to the Old Kingdom, but the idea of Osiris is likely older than this. Before Osiris was actually Khentiamenti, an agricultural God centered in Abydos, a city which would later become the cult center of Osiris. Khentiamenti means 'Foremost of the Westerners', a title for the ruler of the dead, as the dead resided in the west, where the sun set each day. But Osiris Himself is not found mentioned in any texts or carvings until the 5th Dynasty, where He is depicted as a man wearing a divine wig. Later on He would take on the form we know Him best in––wrapped in a white mummy shroud, wearing an atef crown with ostrich plumes on the sides.

The mummy shroud He is depicted in forever associates Him with death and with the essential story behind Him, which is why I found it so important to start off with the Osiris Myth. This myth is also why He consumed and took the place of Khentiamenti; the name Khentiamenti, Foremost of the Westerners, instead became a title for Osiris as the King of the blessed dead. Another common epithet/name of Osiris is Wennefer (Omnophris), meaning 'The Beautiful One', 'The Beneficent One', and more archaically, 'One Whose Body Did Not Decay'. Among these names He was also called 'The Lord of Love', 'The King of Living', and 'The Eternal Lord'. From the Early Dynastic Period up until the end of the Ptolemaic Dynasty, when Rome conquered Egypt, Osiris was one of the most highly worshipped and revered Gods of Egypt.

Osiris was associated with the Nile river, with its' renewal and life-giving abilities, as one of Osiris' domains and powers was fertility, as well as rebirth. Another of His duties, evidence of which originates in the New Kingdom, was to act as judge of the dead; being King, He sat on the tribunal with the 42 Judges in the famous Weighing of the Heart ceremony. In this ceremony, which took place in the afterlife, the deceased would have to stand before the court and place their soul up for judgement. If it weighed lighter than the feather of Ma'at, representing all justice, truth, and harmony, then the heart acted well in life and would be allowed eternal happiness in the Field of Reeds. If not, the heart, and thus the person, would be consumed by Ammit and committed to nothingness. So Osiris would sit in on this tribunal and judge who entered His kingdom, as it was His domain. In this role, and in His role as King of the Living, as well, He was the embodiment of harmony, law, and justice.

"Most of his appeal was based on his embodiment of the cosmic harmony. The rising Nile was his insignia, and the moon’s constant state of renewal symbolized his bestowal of eternal happiness in the lands beyond the grave. In this capacity he also became the model of human endeavors and virtues..." (The Complete Gods And Goddesses Of Ancient Egypt, p.307)

As I mentioned earlier, Abydos became His cult center, as it was the cult center of the God who came before Him, whose traits He subsumed. It became a very popular burial site, as legends would say that Abydos was where Osiris was truly buried, and the people wanted to be buried as close as possible to Osiris. At one point they believed an ancient tomb there––which was actually the tomb of an Early Dynastic King––to be the tomb of Osiris, which they much revered, and left so many offerings in clay pots that Arabs would later call the site 'Umm el Qa'ab'; Mother of Pots. But this was not the only burial site of Osiris; since many variations of the myth include Set chopping up and dismembering Osiris into many parts, ranging from 14 to 42 different parts. These parts were scattered across Egypt, so many cities and nomes could claim that they had a part of Osiris buried in their domain. For example, far in the south, the island of Bigah claimed to be the burial site of Osiris' left leg, and thus the source for the yearly Nile inundation.

Going back to the Osiris Myth, after Osiris died and became the ruler of the dead, His son took His place as King of the Living: the falcon God, Horus (Heru the Younger). After the brief bout of chaos brought about under Set's rule, Horus took over (after much deliberation from the Gods) and order was restored. Because of this story, Pharaohs would not only associate themselves with Osiris in death, but with Horus in life. Each Pharaoh, as they came to the throne, would become the living embodiment of Horus on earth, the son of Osiris. In this way, Isis was also the mother of every Pharaoh, and their protector. And, to added extent, each Pharaoh would have a personal name, and then a Horus name granted to them when they ascended to the throne.

"It is for this reason that Osiris is so often depicted as a mummified pharaoh; because pharaohs were mummified to resemble Osiris. The image of the great mummified god preceeded the practice of preparing the royal body to look like Osiris... The king's appearance as modeled after Osiris' extended throughout his reign; the famous flail and shepherd's staff, synonymous with Egyptian pharaohs, were first Osiris' symbols as the flail represented the fertility of his land while the crook symbolized the authority of his rule." (Osiris, World History Encyclopedia, Joshua J. Mark)

Osiris can also be represented by a number of physical symbols, such as the crook and flail that He carries in almost all representations of His earthly form. The crook, which is the striped hook He carries, represents power/authority, and is a symbol of the Pharaoh. The flail, which is the instrument in His other hand, represents the fertility of the Nile, and as an extension, the fertility of Osiris Himself. But the crook and flail, though both seen typically as symbols of Pharaonic power, are actually the tools of a shepherd. There is reasonable evidence, thusly, to suggest that the physical origins of the idea of Osiris may not be that of a great King, but of a ruler of a shepherd tribe in the Nile Delta, whose rule was so beneficent that it led to him being worshipped as a God. For Egyptologists, this theory comes from His association with Andjety, a predynastic God-King worshipped in the Delta who also bore the crook and flail as His symbols. This, however, has not and likely cannot be fully proven. But the postulation is still interesting nonetheless!

Osiris' ba soul had its' own culture of worship, a practice of soul-worship that is prevalent in the cults of several other Gods, such as Hathor (HwtHer). In this form, Osiris was known as Banebdjedet, meaning 'The Ba of the Lord of the Djed,' which in English terms means 'The Soul of the Lord of the Pillar of Continuity', as ba means soul, and djed is the symbol for a pillar, which represented the backbone of Osiris. Interestingly, the name Banebdjedet is feminine, as the letter t denotes a feminine word or name in ancient Egyptian; although there are also variations on this name that exclude the t in favour of the alternative, Banebdjed. Banebdjedet, Osiris' ba soul, was worshipped mainly in Mendes, a city in Lower Egypt, in the Delta.

This leads to an interesting point concerning the androgyny of Osiris, a subject I found while researching for this post. Osiris' fertility comes from His castration and then being healed by the mother Goddess, Isis. Not only that, but both men and women identified themselves with Osiris in death. Then the name for His ba personified as another God is feminine, although representations of Banebdjedet are overwhelmingly male. Before anyone attacks me, I am not claiming that Osiris is a genderless God or King––just that He has some traits of androgyny, which I find interesting and love to study in ancient cultures, and I thought it would be good to mention for anyone else similarly interested.

Worship, Festivals, and Cult Activities

When it comes to the practices surrounding Osiris' cult, we actually know a good deal of information regarding the activities of worshippers and priests. Osiris' cult and worship was so widespread and lasted long enough that it could be recorded by the earliest Greek historians, and remained carved in temple walls for thousands of years. Among the most well-known cultic tradition is the Osiris Bed.

The Osiris Bed is rather well documented, as it was an object placed in tombs. It was not a bed for the deceased to lie in, but instead a box made of wood or clay, moulded into the shape of Osiris, in which the fertile Nile soil was placed and seeds were planted. These boxes were then wrapped in white mummy linens, and the seeds sprouted through, representing the resurrection and fertility of Osiris, and the crops that grew each year in cycles. One of the most famous of these beds was found in King Djer's tomb, a King from the Early Dynastic Period; the 2nd King ever of the unified Egypt. Coincidentally (or, perhaps, not so coincidentally) King Djer's tomb was the tomb which pilgrims believed to be Osiris' burial site.

While the Osiris Bed is far from the only practice and tradition of the Osiris cult, it does show the rich cultural practices and symbolism present in His worship. Let's look at some other examples of the practices of Osiris' cult.

Similar to the Osiris bed were Osiris gardens, which were essentially the same concept; fertile soil was planted inside a vessel shaped into the form of Osiris, and seeds were settled within to grow. These beds were tended to during festivals instead of being buried in a tomb.

There were a great many festivals, and each of them quite popular according to their time period, dedicated to the story and symbolism of Osiris. Some festivals started with recounting the mournings of Isis and Nephthys, Osiris' sister-wife and sister, in the form of a drama acted out in a call-and-response format. Another drama acted out for the glory of Osiris was more in the form of an actual fight that anyone could participate in; it was modelled after The Contendings of Horus and Set, which I briefly mentioned as a long and drawn-out argument between Horus and Set over who deserved Osiris' vacant throne after He had died. On this occasion, people would battle out and reenact the events of the story until the side of Horus finally won and victory was achieved. Afterwards, the celebrations commenced in honoring the restoration of order, and the gold-encased shAwyt-nTr (the Holy Statue) of Osiris would be taken out and lavished with offerings. Osiris, in the form of this statue, would be paraded throughout the city of Abydos before being placed in a shrine outside, where He could participate fully in the festivities, and be admired by the commoners who would usually never behold the face of Osiris. This emergence of Osiris from the dark temple's inner sanctuary to the light of the city resembled and represented His resurrection from death into life again. Although this particular festival was celebrated mainly in Osiris cult center of Abydos, it was also celebrated in other cities such as Bubastis in the Delta, Busiris, Memphis, and Thebes, in Upper Egypt.

The Mysteries of Osiris was a series of plays performed annually, and in dramatic, passionate form. It was one of the most popular observances of worshippers, and it told the story that I first told to you––of Osiris' life, His death at the hands of His brother, His resurrection at the hands of His sister-wife, and His ascension into the role we now know Him for. The roles in this reenactments were often taken up by high-ranking officials, and afterwards, the Contendings of Horus and Set would take place, which I just mentioned. These plays would take place over several days.

One festival was called The Fall of the Nile. During this time, the waters of the Nile would recede, and the worshippers of Osiris would go into mourning. One of Osiris' representation on earth was the Nile, and the Nile represented His fertility and life.

Another festival was celebrated on the 19th day of Pakhons, one of the months in the Egyptian calendar, which is roughly equivalent to May in our Gregorian calendar. On this day, the followers of Osiris would go to the river with shrines containing vessels of gold and metal, and would pour water into the Nile, exclaiming, "Osiris is found!" Mud and spices were mixed and moulded into the shape of Osiris, as well, to celebrate His return. Another festival similar to this one was called The Night of the Tear, and took place during modern-day June.

The last festival pertaining to Osiris that I will mention is the Djed pillar festival, held in modern-day January. The Pharaonic court and family would participate, raising djed pillars to welcome Osiris and the harvests that coincided with His return.

One last and interesting tradition that may seem familiar to Christians, at least in a small way, was the baking of bread in the shape of Osiris; bread as the flesh of the God, a sort of predecessor of communion wafers. But in reality the traditions of the Osiris cakes are completely different, and there were several different ways of going about it, depending on which nome you were from. In Dendera, wheat-paste models were made in the shape of each of the 16 dismembered parts of Osirs, and each model was sent out to the town where each respective part of Osiris was found by Isis. In Mendes, figures of Osiris were made of wheat and paste. On the day of the murder, they were placed in a trough, followed by water being added each day for several days. Afterwards, this mixture was kneaded into a dough, put into a mold of Osiris, and buried on the temple grounds.

Conclusion

This has been a somewhat brief glimpse into the cult, history, and traditions surrounding the Great God, The Beautiful Lord Osiris. If I can clarify anything please let me know and I will do my best!

#Osiris #ancient egypt #egyptian mythology #egyptian gods #Kemetic #ancient history #egyptology #Kemeticism

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animasola86 · 11 months

Text

Mine!

Notes: This works as a stand-alone one-shot, but it's technically a continuation of It belongs to me (which is a continuation of The Horny Ghost). Enjoy!

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!mc

Genre: Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Possessive!Seb. Bathtub sex. More sex. Oral sex. Facesitting.

Word count: 6.5k

Synopsis: Sebastian's girlfriend is a bit of a nymphomaniac. And he is not complaining. Or is he?

Warning: There is smut under the cut aka horny teenagers having sex! Read at your own risk!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

Mine

Sebastian couldn't believe his eyes. There she was, floating on her stomach in the large basin of the Prefects' Bathroom, her perfectly plump arse cheeks breaking through the water surface as if they were taunting him as she splashed about completely oblivious to his presence.

It wasn't the sight of her naked body that enraged him but the reason why he was seeing her like that. Because others had seen her too. He had been on his way to the Great Hall when those snickering fifth-years came the opposite direction, laughing and sneering about this girl enjoying herself in the bathroom, without locking the door, without covering herself, one even said she had winked at them.

Despite there being many girls, he had known immediately who they were talking about. Among all the girls there was only one who would do this: his own girlfriend. Having a very sexually active and not at all modest or coy girl by his side sure had its advantages, but unfortunately he couldn't spend every single minute of the day with her and when he didn't, she had the tendency of ending up in situations he then had to hear about from other students.

It had started when she had pleasured herself in front of a ghost and that hadn't been the end of it. She was just insatiable. And while he loved that about her more than anything, he couldn't help but feel very angry when she would share the beauty that was her body with others.

She was his, for crying out loud, and no matter how often he would figuratively drill (or quite literally fuck) that into her, she kept having these little accidents as she would call it: exposing herself in public, because oh no the wind, or bending over and forgetting she hadn't put on any underwear that day, or stretching a little too far causing the buttons of her shirt to almost pop.

And while the horny boys lusted over those incidents, the girls who witnessed them started to slag her in the most heinous ways, and when he first heard one of them referring to her as that needy nymph or the school's slut he had lost it (there was only one who was allowed to call her that, him, and he wouldn't even say it to her face). He had tried to talk to her, but she hadn't cared one bit – another reason why he loved her so much. She just didn't care what others thought about her. But she was playing with her reputation and he really didn't want her to jeopardise that.

Luckily the professors either ignored the rumours or didn't care, because despite it all, she was an excellent student and always exceeded expectations in anything she did. And maybe she did these risky things because she would be bored otherwise. Classes came too easy for her and he just knew she needed the thrill. He tried to satiate her hunger, he really did, but as they were from different houses and his roommates weren't the welcoming sort, there were times when he just couldn't be there for her.

Sebastian was here now though and after watching her for a while, how she floated about, steam and soap bubbles clouding the air, her body glistening under the large candle-lit chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and how she presented those curves... He sighed deeply, turned away and locked the door with a flick of his wand, before he stepped closer to the edge of the pool-sized tub and cleared his throat.

“Forgot to lock the door, darling?” he said loud enough for her to hear over the constant rushing of bath water spurting from the various taps lining the sides.

He watched her spin around and where there had been the plump curves of her arse were now the taut mounds of her breasts poking through the water surface, before she took a quick dive and emerged closer to the edge, her wet hair stuck to her head as she looked up at him with a sultry smile.

“Oh hello Sebastian,” she greeted him and grabbed the edge as she lifted herself up on her arms, her arse breaking through the surface once more as she squeezed her breasts between her arms and seductively splashed her feet about. “Fancy seeing you here...”

He gave her a grunt and crouched down to meet her eye level, his hand closing around her jaw as he pushed his mouth against hers for a quick but heated kiss. “Do I even have to say anything?” he then said quietly and raised his eyebrows.

She frowned innocently. “What do you mean?”

“Don't play coy, love,” he said with a dark grimace.

Her eyes wandered over his face as she eventually pushed herself out of the water and sat down on the edge, water running down her skin in thick rivulets. Then she sighed. “Who had the pleasure of seeing me now, hm?” she teased and smirked at him as she put her hands through her hair to push it out of her flushed face.

“I should be the only one who has the pleasure of seeing you like this,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed. “Not some horny fifth-years gloating about it on the Grand Staircase.” He sighed then and looked down, shaking his head. “You have to stop being so carefree...”

“I was just bathing!” she said in slight defiance. “That's what this bathroom is for, isn't it?”

“People usually lock the door when they occupy it, you know?”

“Boring people,” she remarked and rolled her eyes, looking away as she inhaled deeply, her breasts moving slightly under the motion. For a moment he was a little distracted as he took in her tiny frame, his hands itching to touch her and feel those curves under his rough fingers.

“Love, you can't keep doing that. You might get expelled...” he whispered, genuinely concerned.

She scoffed and shook her head, water drops flying everywhere. “Rubbish!” she exclaimed. “I've never even gotten detention for any of this!”

“Because it's usually me who gets detention whenever I indulge in your desire to fuck somewhere in the hallway,” he said with a smirk. “I am the disturber of peace, and gladly so, because you don't deserve the punishment. But seeing your reputation get dragged down like this... I think that's worse than getting detention.”

“I don't care,” she muttered, before she looked back at him, chewing on her lip. “You know I don't...”

He sighed and raised a hand to gently caress her cheek. “I know,” he confirmed. “But it hurts hearing those other girls call you... slut or whore or... nymph...” It hurt saying those words out loud as well and he saw her flinching at them, yet she didn't say anything and looked away.

“What if I am... a nymph?” she whispered then and he saw her eyeing the large mural on the wall depicting a mermaid on a rock. “Not just this... nymphomaniac girl everyone seems to talk about, but a real nymph? Perhaps I am part-mermaid!” She looked back at him and grinned, and he rolled his eyes.

“Sure you are,” he said dismissively and moved his hand over her wet hair. “You can be anything you want.”

She turned towards him then, kneeling in front of him, her hands finding his hard face as she stared directly into his eyes, her lips parted and trembling slightly.

“Then let me be this insatiable girl who is very comfortable with her body and who can't stop thinking about what to do next with her equally insatiable boyfriend!” she whispered and moved closer, her hot breath ghosting his skin.

He licked his lips and watched how her eyes wandered down his face, before he closed the distance between them and smacked his mouth to hers, kissing her hungrily. Her hands dug into his hair as she pulled him closer and he swayed on his heels, threatening to fall over the edge of the pool.

“Unlock the door, Sebastian,” she whispered against his lips, a dark gleam in her eyes. “Let them see...”

He held her gaze for a moment, breathing slightly heavier already. In the end he let her decide and handed her his wand without saying anything. She smiled at him and leaned past him before he heard a quiet clicking sound. When she looked back at him, the smirk only grew and suddenly he felt his clothes disappearing around him, leaving him crouching completely bare in front of her.

Her eyes moved down his body appreciatively and she licked her lips when she poked his growing arousal with the tip of his wand. “Look who's happy to see me,” she laughed and stood up, putting his wand carefully on a nearby stack of fresh towels.

Groaning deeply, he got up as well and watched her move her slender body along the large room, her hips swaying invitingly as her fingers slid over any surface that came her way while she traversed the steam filled space with confidence.

“So where do you want me?” she asked sultrily. “On this dresser? Against the wall? On the floor like the dirty animals that we are?” She touched a few taps and differently coloured water spurted from them, filling the large basin with more and more foam and the air with soap bubbles.

“Get in the water,” he said gruffly and after exchanging a dark gaze with her, he simply dove into the tub head first and emerged with a loud inhale on the other side, his hands finding the edge as he looked up at her, her entire body on display for him from this angle. She put her hands on her hips and walked closer to him, smiling seductively, her legs crossed as she stood, before she made a show out of uncrossing them, giving him a quick glance at her beautiful pussy. He bit the inside of his cheek and worked his jaw.

Before he could lose himself and just drag her in himself, she jumped over him and landed arse first in the bath behind him, splashing water and foam everywhere. She emerged with a laugh and they finally found each other in a heated tangle of limbs as she threw herself at him. Their mouths collided and he kissed her with a new born hunger that quickly left him light-headed and wanting so much more.

His hands were all over her as he groped at her hips and grabbed her rear and teased those cheeks apart. She moaned into his mouth, her breasts rubbing against his chest as she clung onto him. Somehow he ended up sitting on the steps leading into the vast basin, leaving him submerged to his shoulders, while she floated against him, her arse breaking through the water surface as he held her by her plump cheeks with nimble fingers teasing at her holes, still kissing her breathlessly, while her hands had found his cock and worked on him relentlessly.

Their heated and unfiltered noises, moans and groans and grunts and whimpers, could be heard loud and clear over the rushing of water and bubbling of foam and a small part of him wanted a bunch of fifth-years to walk in on them and not only see his beautiful girlfriend like this, but also see him holding her with his big hands, claiming her mouth and body possessively. He wanted them to see who this nymph belonged to.

As he felt himself tensing up under her ministrations, he grabbed her waist and pushed her body underwater and right on top of his lap. She broke from his lips then and watched him breathlessly, before she positioned herself right against his already twitching cock and due to the warm water surrounding them or the state of their aroused bodies, he slipped into her tight pussy easily until he felt himself buried deep within her.

Holding her firmly against him, he moaned into her mouth as her hands grabbed his face in support, her hot breath ghosting his flushed skin. It took him only a few upward snaps of his hips, until he shot his load right into her and it was almost a shame to know that his seed would be lost to the bath in no time.

As if reading his mind, she suddenly grabbed the edge of the tub and lifted herself up, her chest rubbing against his face as she struggled to get her footing, before she turned around and sat on the tiled edge of the bath, her legs spread and fragments of his cum dripping out of her clenching hole.

He stood then and turned to her, quickly resuming his grip on her waist before he changed his mind and made her turn around until she was lying on her stomach, her legs floating in the water around him as he stepped between them. Grabbing her arse cheeks and parting them eagerly, he didn't wait long to push his cock back into her, using his own cum as lubricant as he drove himself as deep as possible.

Her moans echoed off the walls of the room and he saw her stretching her arms out to hold onto a nearby towel rack. As he was still standing on the steps of the tub, and quite unsteadily so, he decided to crawl out of it and over her, pushing her forward on the slippery floor with his hips, prodding his cock deep against her cervix as he did so. She gasped and pulled herself over the floor to help him find space to adjust to the new position.

He grabbed her waist and lifted her rear up slightly, parting her legs wider as he settled between them. She shivered from either the colder air hitting her wet skin or his slow, but steady thrusts as he started moving against her, before he quickly fell into a rapid rhythm of driving his cock all the way into her to almost retreating entirely to repeat the same motion with as much fervour as he could muster. Which was a lot.

Now they had really become the dirty animals that they were as he took her on the floor, his pelvis slamming against her arse with loud slapping noises that mixed with their moans and groans and the occasional squeak as her hands slipped over the wet floor in a desperate attempt to hold onto anything as he pounded into her relentlessly. He could feel her walls clenching around him almost painfully and it only made him move faster and harder against her until she shuddered and cried out loudly, the tremors of her orgasm vibrating through his cock, causing him to come right after her.

He gave her one last final thrust that would have skidded her over the floor if he didn't have a death grip on her waist, and buried himself deep inside her tightly clenched pussy, releasing his seed right into her womb, and even though he knew she took those contraceptive potions, he wanted to imagine that he had claimed her, made her his, by filling her to the brim with his cum that would one day make a tiny human grow inside her beautiful body. And it would be his and his alone.

With a deep grunt he collapsed on top of her, feeling her gasp at the sensation of his weight pushing her to the hard floor. His hands moved up to caress her hair as he cradled his arms around her head and kissed her cheek. She was breathing heavily beneath him and for a moment they were lulled by the sounds of the water rushing into the tub and foam bubbling out of the taps.

“Never change,” he whispered hoarsely and brushed his lips against hers as she turned her head towards him, her eyes half-lidded. “You are the most amazing girl I have ever met and anyone who says otherwise is just a sad, miserable human being! I love you,” he concluded quietly and saw her lips forming one of those gorgeous smiles.

“I love you too,” she whispered back breathlessly and brushed those lips against his for a quick kiss.

He shifted slightly on top of her and leaned up on his arms to give her some room to breathe, and after pushing her rear against him once more, coaxing a moan out of him, she somehow managed to slip away from under him, before she turned onto her back and grabbed his arms to help her slip back into place, her cum dripping centre pressing against his spent and drooping cock.

“Come on, get cosy,” she offered with a smirk. “You don't actually think we're done here, right?”

Sebastian watched her with a raised eyebrow, before he grabbed his length and gave himself a few strokes, but she quickly touched his wrist, her fingers prying his away to do the task herself. Licking his lips he leaned back on his knees and watched her, and it didn't take long for him to get somewhat hard again.

Holding onto his cock, she shimmied closer to him, her legs snaking past his hips as she wrapped them around him and crossed her feet behind him, pulling herself right against him, before she guided his tip to her entrance and with a slow tilt of her hips pulled him into her tight warmth once more. Inhaling deeply he felt himself sinking into her, held comfortably by her clenching walls.

Her fingertips brushed against his lower stomach and upwards over his abdomen, grazing the tight muscles, as she just lay there in front of him, his cock coming back alive inside her while she just seemed to enjoy the feeling of having him so close. He watched her in nothing but awe and admiration, stunned by her bold moves and her beauty, until she started sharing her thoughts with him.

“You know what I've been thinking about?” she whispered quietly, drawing circles on his stomach. She didn't give him time to answer or think as she added: “Threesomes.”

His eyes went wide, before they narrowed darkly. “What?”

“Yes, who could we invite for a night of fun? What do you think?” she asked, licking her lips as she shifted slightly against him, deliberately clenching her walls around his cock.

“Nobody,” he immediately responded. “I'm not sharing you with anyone!”

Her eyes met his and she gave him a pout. “Why not?”

“Why not?” he repeated, his voice louder and angrier than he had anticipated. “Because you are my girlfriend, mine! I can barely stand the thought of other people looking at you, and you expect me to let some ugly bastard touch you? Forget it!”

“He wouldn't have to be ugly,” she teased and smirked at him. “But I'd be so curious to know what another cock would feel like...”

Her words sank into his heart like a thousand needles. “Am I not enough for you?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet, as he forced himself to remain as calm as possible even though his mind was racing and the emotions boiled just beneath the surface.

She blinked then and her face fell, before she sat up and snaked one arm around his torso to hold herself up, her pelvis pushing firmer against his. “That's not what I meant!” she said quietly and cupped his face with her free hand. “You know I love your cock and I would never want to part with it!” she said quickly and to underline her words, she shifted against him, pushing him in deeper. “I was just curious what another would feel next to yours!”

She only made it worse, although he switched from being sad and jealous to downright angry and disgusted. “Next to mine? As in... buried inside you with me? You want to have two cocks in your pussy, is that it?”

She blushed at his blunt words, but nodded slowly.

“Sorry, love, not going to happen. I'd have to be very close with whoever bloke you decide on. Like, very close, and I don't feel too comfortable doing that with any other guy...” he told her and clenched his jaw, feeling his dick shrinking just at the thought of that.

She chewed on her lips. “What about Ominis? He wouldn't even be able to see you --”

“No!” he exclaimed firmly. Her train of thought caused his head to spin. He never wanted to think about things like this, no matter how much he wanted to satiate and satisfy his girl, but getting his best friend involved was taking it a lot of steps too far.

“Okay,” she whispered after a moment of silently staring at him. “Okay, forget I said anything...”

He inhaled sharply and looked down at where they were connected. Suddenly he was filled with doubts and guilt and everything inside him was fighting. He wanted her to himself, but he also wanted to make her the happiest girl alive. But sharing her like that? He couldn't do it, not even with Ominis...

The worst part was that her idea was not new to him. He had thought about sharing her with the blond boy once before, right at the beginning of getting to know her better when he had found out that she had impacted the other boy's life just as much as she had his. Yet in the end she had chosen him, Sebastian, and he had never thought about it again. And he wouldn't start now.

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly, his eyes wandering over her flushed face as she stared at his chest, not even meeting his eyes any more. He noticed a wave of goosebumps rushing over her skin. “Come on, love, don't give me the silent treatment! That was a lot to ask, you know?” he tried turning the guilt train around.

She sighed, before she looked back up at him. “What about Jackdaw?” she then mused and he couldn't help but open his mouth in nothing but shock and indignation. The nerve of that woman! She couldn't just drop the topic, she had to bring him into it as well.

“Are you serious?” he exclaimed angrily and narrowed his eyes, his hands grabbing her waist tightly, possessively bruising her skin. She winced slightly, but held his gaze.

“Please, just try to think about it, okay? At least you wouldn't have to touch him!” she explained, her voice almost pleading.

“You realize that bastard doesn't even have a dick?” he said loudly and stared at her. “He is a fucking ghost!”

She blushed at that and pursed her lips, but kept staring at him. “He does and I'd still feel it and we could simulate it with one of my toys and he'd be there... to make it feel better...” she explained with her voice barely audible now. She even looked away as she spoke.

He listened intently, every word making it so much darker inside his head. “He didn't just watch, did he?” he concluded eventually, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed. “You told me he just watched as you pleasured yourself!”

“He did!” she quickly replied and placed her shaking hands on his tense chest. “But he also --”

“No! No, don't tell me! You fucked him after all, didn't you?” he yelled and pushed her hands away, then grabbed her thighs to unclench her from around his waist.

With a not so gentle shove, he brought more distance between them as he pulled out of her and got to his feet quite unsteadily, anger and exertion making his legs tremble.

He left her sitting on the floor, her legs wide open and her mouth just as agape as she watched him with her eyes watering and her lips quivering, before he started pacing the steam filled room, shaking his head. “I can't believe it...”

“Sebastian...” she whispered, her voice shaking as much as the rest of her body.

He stopped then and stared at her. “Well, tell me the truth then. What exactly did he do, huh?”

She looked at him and when the first tear dropped from the corner of her eye, he felt bad, but still too angry to do anything about it. “It was like I told you... he watched me play with my toys... asked me to... stuff my pussy... and take a look at it... and then he --” Exhaling loudly, she lowered her gaze, her fingers moving mindlessly over her wet folds. “He just hovered above me, really. He didn't touch me, he can't, you know that, it was just pretend... but you know what it feels like to get in contact with a ghost... all cold and tingly? Well, it did feel nice on my hot skin... I have to admit...”

Her words made his skin crawl, and not in the pleasant way that she had described just now. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath, trying to contain the rage he felt. “So you... pretended to have somebody else's dick in you and it felt nice?” he repeated with his voice low and threateningly quiet. His jaw was starting to hurt from being so tense.

When she looked up at him, her eyes were dark and full of defiance, despite the tears rolling down her cheeks. “You said it was my body and that I could do whatever I want with it! And I did! What is your problem?” Her voice had gotten louder and he saw her shaking badly as she clenched her hands into fists.

“You lied to me...” he muttered darkly and he saw how his words hit a mark as her face fell right in front of him, all emotion gone at once. All but guilt.

She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees, averting his gaze once more. “I didn't mean to...” she said after a long moment of the worst silence that might have ever been between them.

He felt his own anger deflating slowly. This was the second time he had been jealous of the same fucking ghost and he had told himself before that there was absolutely no reason, because in the end it was him, Sebastian, who would be able to touch and feel the girl on the floor in front of him. That was, if he didn't push her away completely.

Inhaling deeply he knelt down next to her, his hand gingerly brushing against her thigh before he gently grabbed one of her hands. “I know you have needs,” he started then, his voice as soft as he could possibly make it sound. She chose to not look at him still. “And I would never blame you for them. I meant what I said, it is your body and you can do whatever you want with it. And I suppose... you did and that bastard – Jackdaw – just used you like that. You can't possibly push off a ghost and I bet he wouldn't take no for an answer.”

He saw her stirring at that, her lips pressed together tightly. “But I... I can understand that it might have... felt good in that situation as well. I know you can lose yourself in lust sometimes and I don't judge you for it...” He gave a short chuckle. “Hell, that's one of the many reasons why I love you so much.” He took a deep breath. “Darling, I'm sorry. My emotions got the better of me... and that's probably why you didn't tell me, right?”

She finally looked at him, her features slightly more relaxed than before. The skin around her eyes was red and puffy and there was still a wet shine to her gaze, but when she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and looked him over, he knew she had already forgiven him yet again. He raised his free hand to cup her face and wipe at her wet cheek.

“How can I make up for it?” he asked quietly and brought his face closer to hers. “And please don't ask me to fuck a ghost with you!”

She grimaced at him and exhaled loudly through her nose. “Just... hold me?” she then asked, her voice strained and hoarse.

He obliged immediately and pulled her into a tight embrace, pressing her shivering body against his as he rested his chin on top of her head. She relaxed slowly as she melted against him. “I hate fighting with you...” he said quietly and kissed her wet hair.

“Me too...” she muttered under her breath. “And I'm sorry as well...” she then added, issuing a sniffling sound as she buried her face under his arm. “I know my request was... ridiculous. No, uncalled for even. I don't need another cock in me, I only need yours! I suppose my... hormones got the better of me.”

He chuckled at that and rubbed her back gently. For a moment they just stayed like this, a pile of limbs on the floor, his heart relaxing more and more the longer he held her. And his mind went back to happier places. “You know what's one good thing about having arguments?”

She looked up then, peeking her head out of his bear hug, her eyes sparkling.

“Make-up sex,” they both said in unison and laughed right after.

With his arms around her, he fell the short distance to the floor and rolled around a little until she was on top of him, their mouths already smacked together in a hungry kiss. “Where were we?” he grunted against her lips as she gripped his hair tightly and started grinding her hips against his groin.

“Where we belong,” she whispered and showered his face with hurried kisses before she moved down to his neck and along his chest until she closed her hand around his cock and focused all her attention on his growing length. “Where I belong...”

He inhaled deeply and crossed his arms behind his head as he watched her with a wide smirk. She didn't waste a single second before she had closed her lips around his tip and gave him a hard suck, coaxing those noises out of him that echoed loudly off the tiled walls of the bathroom. With her eager fingers massaging his balls, she dove down on him hungrily, the slurping sounds music in his ears.

Quickly forgetting about or at least suppressing anything that had happened earlier, his head was so full of static, he probably would have agreed to anything if she would have asked him in that moment. Luckily she didn't, luckily her mouth was too full to articulate any ridiculous requests. To keep it that way he reached out one hand to gently but firmly grab her hair and push her down onto his cock until she let out a gurgling sound.

He loosened his hold when she pinched his balls in retaliation, and he gave her a strained laugh as she looked up at him with dark eyes, her lips still strained around his girth. Winking at her, he accepted the rolling of her eyes as she continued to suck him off as if she was clearly starved and in dire need of his seed.

It took her only a few more moments of working her hand against him and pressing her tongue along his shaft and hollowing her cheeks around him, and when she lowered her head to let him hit the back of her throat, gagging deliciously around him, he felt his cock twitching and his balls tightening and then he came right down her throat. He groaned loudly and leaned his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as he bucked his hips against her, coaxing a few whimpers out of her, before he felt her leaning back, coughing slightly.

He looked at her then, her lips swollen, and when she opened her mouth for him, he saw the thick white substance on her tongue before she swallowed hard and made it disappear. That alone would have driven him off the edge yet again if he hadn't already blown his load into her. Grunting in delight, he watched her going back down on him, licking up the few rogue drops of cum on his stomach and thighs, before she licked along the pulsating veins of his cock, teasing his tip yet again.

“I think it's my turn now,” he said hoarsely and leaned up on his elbows, licking his lips in anticipation. She smirked at him, already knowing what he wanted to ask of her. Of course she had the same idea and she quickly clambered over him, and when he lay back down, she positioned her knees on either side of his head, before she lowered her centre right onto his face.

He grabbed her waist and held her in place as he dove nose first into her heated slit, taking a deep breath before he started lapping at her lower lips. She shuddered on top of him, moaning softly. He kept pushing his tongue through her folds, teasing his nose against her clit and causing her thighs to twitch against him, eager to just smother him once she reached a certain point.

Before she did, he snaked one arm around her leg, holding it in place while his other hand moved along the curves of her arse, squeezing and kneading her cheek possessively, with his fingers teasing her from the other side. She squirmed on top of him, barely able to hold her weight up, but he didn't care, he even pulled her closer to push his tongue deeper into her warmth until he moved the muscle past her entrance, really getting a taste of that sweet pussy.

He was light-headed and breathless, but he didn't stop his ministrations until she moaned louder and louder, her body shuddering on top of him, and only then did he move his mouth to her previously unattended clit. As soon as he pulled the soft bundle of nerves between his lips, she cried out and twitched badly, her thighs pushing together with a force that he could barely balance with his arm still holding her.

He licked and sucked her little nub with everything he had and when she came, it hit him right in the face. Closing his eyes, he kept going, relishing the fight she fought on his face, her body spasming wildly and her noises somewhere between helpless cries and lustful moans as she pushed her pelvis firmer against him, grinding mindlessly on his face as he kept pushing his tongue against her clit, while also lapping at her juices and sucking on her lips.

When he snaked his hand around and pushed one finger into her tightly clenched pussy and curled it just right, she screamed in pleasure and almost toppled off of him, but he held her tightly and kept stimulating her in all the ways he knew.

Another orgasm rolled over her and she jerked her hips against him and almost knocked him out with her pubic bone as she forced herself firmer into his face. Yet he kept licking and sucking and pushing until she all but wailed and collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily as all the fight left her body, leaving her a boneless whimpering mess that was still trying to smother him.

He eventually grabbed her waist and rolled her around, lying her gently on her back as he started showering her soft body with kisses. “Mine,” he groaned quietly as he kissed the subtle blush of hair above her pussy, then moved upwards. “Mine,” he told her stomach, imagining all the times he had filled her with his seed. “Mine, mine, mine, mine!” he repeated, kissing her ribs and between her breasts, before he moved to the soft mounds themselves.

He paid extra attention to them as they practically jumped right into his mouth with her chest rising and falling so fast. His tongue circled around her hard nipple while his hand found the other breast, kneading it firmly and rolling the pert bud between his fingers. She moaned and whimpered beneath him, her eyes closed, and nothing but pure bliss on her pretty face.

Once he was done and satisfied with handling her breasts, he gave them each another peck, whispering “Mine...” again and moved on to nibble on her neck next. There he kissed and licked and sucked on her soft flesh, teasing her pulse, grazing his teeth over her skin before sinking them playfully into her neck, leaving love bites and actual bite marks all along the slender column, big enough for everyone to see.

Before he moved to her face, he placed his hand around her throat and squeezed gently, coaxing a surprised moan out of her as her eyes fluttered open. Holding her neck firmly he pushed his mouth onto hers and kissed her demandingly, until she had to raise a hand and helplessly scratch her fingernails over any skin she could find to make him stop, and when he leaned back, she was gasping for air and all but glared at him.

He smirked at her and gave her a more gentle kiss, letting go of her throat as well, as he cupped her face with both hands and closed his lips around hers as softly as he was able to in his aroused state. She whimpered against his mouth and somehow her hand found the back of his neck as she pulled him closer with the tiniest of tugs, and he obliged, deepening the kiss with his tongue invading her mouth forcefully.

She seemed still too shaken to kiss him back at the same pace, so he went easy on her and eventually rolled onto his side and pulled her against him, one arm snaked around her neck, the other resting on her arse as he kissed her lazily, equally as breathless by now. “Who do you belong to?” he groaned into her mouth in a low, dark voice.

“You,” she replied barely audible, her voice strained and breathy. “I belong to you, Sebastian...”

He smiled at her and let his tongue glide over her lips until he moved to her earlobe and nibbled on it playfully, softly humming into her ear to coax a few more whimpers out of her. “Yes, you do... all of you... never forget that...”

“Never,” she whimpered and leaned more against him, her hands caged between their chests.

“Good girl,” he whispered and gave her arse a solid smack that made her cry out against him. He only chuckled and bit down on her earlobe gently, knowing that she wouldn't stray from him any more after he was done with her. And he wasn't done with her yet.

They hadn't been caught yet despite the unlocked door to the Prefects' bathroom and he really wanted to push his luck today. And the boundaries of his girlfriend. She deserved as much.

End notes: This was so hard to finish, not because I didn't have enough ideas, but because I had too many! I could have continued this FOREVER! They would just never stop! But I had to end it somewhere, so here, I hope you can live with this rather open-ended ending. Sorry.

Also, uh, I kinda love writing possessive Seb and his feral, horny-all-the-time girlfriend. One day I'll write an innocent mc, I promise!

And on the topic of Possessive/Jealous!Seb I want you to take a look at this amazing artwork by @tamayula-hl - just look at it and melt away at how stunning and fitting this is! I was already in the middle of writing this one-shot when this was posted and I was just floored at the timing once again! Love it, please take a look!

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow oneshot

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marv3l-drag0ns · 17 days

Text

Making my own idea of what the minecraft movie could have been.

Steve wakes up alone, in the wilderness. He's got no idea whats going on, but its slightly implied that theres something off to him about where he is. He starts walking and messing around with stuff, maybe making some tools or a crafting bench. Then he finds a village, and is so happy to be around other people, but hes gotten there right at sunset, so all the villagers are locking up shop and hunkering in their homes. He's confused until he hears the zombies groans, and then is terrified and begs to hide in someones house. A nice family takes him in, and he falls asleep scared.

In the morning, he wakes up to see deep gouges and arrows stuck in the walls of many homes. He keeps looking, and starts to see creeper holes, and splatters of gore where a severly broken down iron golem defeated a few monsters. Days pass as he slowly gets accustomed to village life.

One day, he hears the bell being frantically rung and everyone going back to hide in their homes. The iron golem, which is barely working now, staggers to its feet to defend its home and people. Pillagers rush into the village, vindicators start cutting down doors, and a ravager smashes into the iron golem, finally breaking it. Steve's freaking out with the rest of the villagers, and those who arent killed are tied up to be brought back with the pillagers. Steve is one of those.

The pillagers go back to the mansion, where the Summoner tells steve that the pillagers are looking to bring a world destroying entity to the overworld. The summoner speaks reverently of it and the eternal darkness it will bring with it. Steve is terrified, but stands up to the summoner only to get cut by vexes.

Steve is later brought to the nether to be used as a distraction as the pillagers delve into the nether fortress. As they go through the nether, he sees the immense damage the pillagers have wrought upon the Piglins and their bastions, and feels really sad when he sees a baby pokin their head through a broken wall only to be pulled back by a parent. They reach the fortress, and steve is badly burnt by a blaze, but manages to get a few rods. He also manages to fight a wither, barely escaping, in order to remind the viewers that it ccould be the wither the pillagers are tring to summon.

On the way back, the pillagers spot an enderman and shoot at it, only to curse when the enderman grows enraged and kills one of the pillagers. A vindicator cuts it down, but doesnt take the pearl, which steve notices and does take.

Steve manages to escape the mansion, running off with an iron axe, some gold boots, the blaze rods, and the enderpearl. he also rescues another player prisoner, Alex. They escape, and alex helps Steve make the eye of ender, saying that the Pillagers want to tame the dragon that lives in the void and use it to shape the overworld into the wastes that is the End.

Steve and alex must then race to find the stronghold and get good enough gear to slay the dragon, while still dodging pillagers. Herobrine is teased as the first player who tried to kill the dragon, but no one knows what happened to him. Theres a funny scene where steve is super afraid of a silverfish but alex kills it easily. Theres a heartbreaking scene where they go back to the nether only to realize they dont want to kill the endermen either, but a piglin mother sees this and trades them a few enderpearls for steves boots.

They make it, they kill the dragon and alex takes the egg, the end fleets are teased if they want to make a second movie. Steve is sad about the loss of the village and about the devastation the piglins faced, but is happy to have made new friends. The end poem is read and steve cries about it, mourning a past he may never remember. the universe gives him a hug. THE END.

#minecraft movie #minecraft #dragon's discussions #i had so much fun with this holy shit #BUT LOOK AT THAT IT FOLLOWS THE ACTUAL MC STORYLINE #AND IS SWEET AND BITTER #AND HAS STAKES #god it could be so much btter #also the movie should be done either like the minecraft trailers or 2d animated i think that would be cute #but alas i dont live in a perfect worl.

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turbulentscrawl · 4 months

Text

Modern AU: Norton Campbell

You've heard of modern reader? Well now it's time for Modern canon!

- Previously, he worked in the oil industry, but a nasty accident he doesn’t speak about has left him with his fair share of burn scars. Norton now works as an independent contractor, known around town as a do-it-all type of handyman. He rarely works with or for group projects, preferring to be hired directly by property owners for the work they need done. He’s his own boss, and he makes his own schedule, but he’s a workaholic.

- He was raised by his uncle Benny after his parents died when he was still very young—his mother shortly after childbirth, due to complications, and his father in a work-related accident. Benny’s health deteriorated fast, though, and as soon as he was legally able Norton picked up a part-time job to help pay the bills and build a college fund. (Or several, more like, and he was known to bounce around for better pay.)

-Some time in his senior year of high school, he discovered that Benny was keeping secrets; Benny had not only convinced his father to stay in the oil industry after he was born, but wasted and gambled away all the life insurance money from his death. Enraged and betrayed, Norton dropped out of school and left. He drove as far away as he could with the little money he had, and then lived out of his truck for a while. Eventually, he made enough money to rent a shitty little motel room by the week, and then a shitty little apartment.

-After leaving, he at first went into the oil industry like his old man and Benny had been—it was something he was familiar enough with and hard labor paid better than being a busboy again. But after a few years there was an accident which left him with several burn scars. He was left in pain for a long time, but the worker’s comp paid for most of his medical bills and his rent, giving him just enough time to get his GED. After that, he started into construction, plumbing, and other handiman things he was knowledgeable in after years of being poor and self-sufficient.

-The accident, this time, was more of an ACTUAL accident. Norton had a disagreement with some of the coworkers he hated. There was an altercation, and something ignited…and Norton was the only one who got out. He doesn’t talk about it, mostly out of shame and a sense of guilt, but he copes by telling himself they deserved it.

- He drives the same beat-up old pickup truck Benny bought for him as a kid. It was transferred into his name when he was 18, so Benny can’t swipe it from under his nose. (Legally, anyway.) He could probably get a loan and buy a new car, but at this point he prefers to keep the old hunk of junk. Maybe he’s sentimental, or maybe the weekly maintenance he has to do on it is just therapeutic in a way.

-Not a super techy guy. He keeps up with industry news and learns new skills often, but his truck, his phone, and most of his home appliances are older. He’s good enough with fixing things that he hasn’t bothered to replace them.

-He’s not much of a decorator, either, but he’s good at thrifting and building his own furniture with recycled materials. His apartment/home is a bit of a hodgepodge, with mostly bare walls, but what he does have I impressive in its own way. Any décor he has is likely gifted.

-He’d like to own a home one day, but he’s playing things by ear. He realizes that might be asking a lot while he’s got no real support system.

-He’s a fair cook, but a lot of what he makes could be called “struggle meals.” They’re what he’s been used to for a long time.

-He’s a little paranoid about pumping gas into his truck, but he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do. On his days off, he tends to walk to take public transit to save some money and gas mileage.

-He’s that guy with a 7-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, bodywash etc men’s soap. Someone please teach him better ways.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #turbulentscrawl #norton campbell x reader #idv prospector

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toastyrobos · 6 months

Text

I’m okay…okay? (Wrecker X Female reader one shot)

Word count: 2.5k

((After everyone's chips are removed on Bracca you try to talk to Wrecker about what happened, since you care for him, but he again tries to avoid you. What happens when you've had enough and confront him))

If only things had gone down as planned. Then maybe the feeling of dread and helplessness wouldn't be permeating the air around you. Maybe then you wouldn't feel so..so terrified and useless. You couldn't have done much of anything in that split second when theory turned reality. When the reason for those chips showed itself to all of you in that room.

That room you didn't want to step foot into anymore. His face...that dull lifeless appearance it took on the second his chip had activated. How when he uttered those words you wanted to cry out. And you did. Not because you were afraid of him.

No.

You were afraid for him. You saw how Wrecker's eyes...the kindness and childlike essence was still there. Fighting whatever the chip was doing to him. He was actively fighting the programming that was inside his mind...and losing.

And you knew...knew that if or when he would came to he'd never forgive himself for what he had done. It's what the Empire...those bastards wanted. A perfect creation that could be programmed, when needed, to do their dirty work. And it happened right under your noises. They used and turned the clones into nothing more than their own personal attack dogs.

It made you sick to your stomach.

They were used and discarded as if they were a dirty rag. No longer serving its purpose. It enraged you. What they did to their most loyal supporters, it enraged you what they did to him.

To the one person who had made you smile at every given opportunity. Could insight the biggest applause of laughter and fill an entire room with it. The person who would do anything to protect those he cared about at a moments notice. He was fierce, powerful when he needed to be. Especially during the heat of battle. Underneath it all though, he was a gentle giant. Always careful when embracing another person...mostly that is. The way in which he looked out and cared for Omega. Being the big brother that maybe he was always meant to be.

All of those things about him.... His heart of gold, that large grin, how infectious his laugh was.

You loved it all. You loved him.

That's why the minute he woke up from this chip removal you were so relieved. Tears lined your eyes before running down your anxious complexion. But something was different about him. A somber expression painted his face. Guilt too. And you immediately knew. How could you not? He only further confirmed it when after apologizing to Omega, he avoided your gaze.

It was obvious. He was swimming in his own guilt and shame. Like an ocean had swallowed him up. And much more weighing heavily on his heart. You didn't need to be a Jedi to see it. It was clear as day. His knotted brows, the trembling in his hands, how his eyes seemed distance.

You understand why it was easier for him to forgive himself when it came to Omega..or at the very least make amends with her. She had no trouble forgiving him. Like us, she knew there wasn't much to forgive. None of this situation was his fault. Yet here he was. Blaming himself, Silently. Away from you. Allowing it to eat away at him from the inside out. And it broke your heart.

If Rex hadn't pushed you out of the way, then that blaster shot would been buried deep within your chest. Ending your life in the process. It's all and intended purpose. That's why he wouldn't—couldn't look at you. The frightened look in your eyes, that would haunt him forever. If only he knew that it wasn't for your life that scared you. No. It was for another reason entirely. And you wanted to—needed to tell him. You didn't care anymore if he avoided you. You had to talk to him. Staying away was no longer an option.

You wasted no time in locating Hunter and demanding where Wrecker was. Seeing how determined you were and knowing the full situation of both of your unspoken feelings, he told you where to find his brother. Before rushing back off Hunter wished you good luck in your pursuits. As the man in charge and a loyal brother, he wanted what was best for his fellow teammates. You being with Wrecker was just that. Heightened senses or not, he saw the way you two were around each other. How you both were captivated by the other, the hidden glances...he'd never seen two people more suited for each other than his brother and you. The newest member of the team, of his family. Maker, he just hoped that whatever pain and guilt Wrecker felt, you'd find a way to reach him.

Finding him wasn't the problem, getting him to stay was. The moment you located him he started to back away from your presence. You understood why, but it hurt, hurt to see him so afraid. You didn't want him to feel this way. You couldn't bare it. He was..he was your—this loveable, big hearted man who could bring a smile to anyone's face. The fear and anguish he held in his gaze, clouding him...that wasn't him. That wasn't the Wrecker you knew.

"Wrecker please!" You cried out. "Please..."

You could how you pleas made him stop in his tracks. How his body visible flinched at the way you spoke his name.

"I want—need to talk to you".

He looked away from you. He wasn't going to meet your gaze. "Stop!" The pleading in his voice. "Don't come any closer".

"Wrecker...". You choked back the tears that threatened to escape from you while you took a darning footstep towards him. And so in turn, like a dance of deep rooted turmoil, Wrecker took a step backwards. "Please stop!" You shouted at him, your voice cracking in the process. You couldn't take it. You needed him to stay, to not run away from you. From what you needed to get off your chest. What your heart was bursting to confess.

Thankfully he understood. You watched his body freeze and just barely his eyes brushed to yours for the briefest of moments before they returned to his feet. Meaning that some piece of him wanted to talk to you. Or at the very least hear what you had to say. He owed you that much. Though you weren't sure if he'd truly listen. But you had to try. You'd never forgive yourself if you didn't.

Letting out a breath you had been holding in, you reluctantly approached him, slowly but with confidence. A purpose in your step. A song in your heart. Within a few steps, he seemed to hesitate in staying put. But he did as you requested. You thanked the maker for that. However your eyes widened as you approached him. The intense guilt swallowing him up. All across his scarred skin, it was plain as day. Wrecker was drowning in his sorrow completely. Wave by wave it was eating away at him. The way you could feel it radiating off his body. It hurt you. Broke you. You wanted to reach out and pull him so tightly against you. Telling him over and over again that you were okay, you were safe!

To see someone as loud and happy as Wrecker be so swallowed up in that hurt...it wasn't fair. He didn't deserve it. None of them did! The stupid fucking Empire. You were not a violent person, but you swore right there that you'd make them pay. One day they'd get what was coming for them.

The embers of your rising anger immediately cooled as his eyes drifted up to meet yours. Tears lined his eyes, some streams leaking down his rough cheeks. You couldn't bare it anymore. Taking four steps forward you reached out to touch him as he started to do the same, but quickly flinched and pulled his arm away. Your breath hitched in your throat. Heart skipping a beat at the action. You felt your heart shatter like glass.

Oh Wrecker.

Please..no

He was so afraid to touch you.

Afraid he'd inflict physical pain on you this time.

"Wrecker, I'm-I'm okay". You had to let him know—let him see that you alright. "I promise you I'm okay. You didn't physical hurt me. I know you'd never—

You saw him tense at those words. "But I did!". You noticed the rumble in his voice. The way in which his voice had raised in tone. How serious he was about what he had done.

You shook your head. "Rex pushed me out of the way!". You matched his tone, clenching your fist in one hand and gripping the fabric of your shirt in the other.

He shook his head furiously, "Don't lie. I did hurt you! I pointed my gun at you. I-I almost shot you!" he gestured to your body. "I could have t ki-killed you!"

"But you didn't". You reminded him, tears well last pouring down your cheeks, running down your neck by this point "He's okay. I'm okay, Wrecker! Besides it wasn't your fault! The Empire put those invasive chips into your head! And they turned you all into their own personal slaves! They violated you and took away your choices! Made thousands of clones—your brothers commit unspeakable things! They had no right to do that!". Your voice broke at how much pain laid in your heart at what they had done. The anguish in his voice was enough to break you into two.

"Don't you dare think for a second that you're to blame—that any of you are to blame for what happened. I won't let you! I won't watch you to that to yourself Wrecker. I will not watch the man that I love so dearly torment himself over something that is not his fault! I can't. It's too much. They took advantage of you. All of you. They took away your humanity!"

"(Y/N)-"

"No, Wrecker! They treated you like you were nothing and that is unacceptable. They treated all the clones like that. It pained me! None of you asked to be used like that. It-it's not fair. It's unjust, it's—"

His mouth was on you before you could even register what was happening. Catching you off balance momentarily before instinct took over and you proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck. Large hands grasped at your waist, pulling you closer to his armored chest. You willingly let him haul you closer as you too wanted it. One of your hands tugged at the back of his blacks and Wrecker moaned into your mouth. Causing your body to shuddered at such a noise.

Maker, if you didn't pull away he'd surely be the end of you. Not that you wouldn't have minded it. For kissing clone force 99's brute strength member was everything you had pictured and more. Something about the mixture of rich musk and gun powder crept into your senses and coiled around your veins. Sending tingles down your spine as its owners lips heated your body beyond measure.

How could kissing someone be this addicting? You had plenty of kisses before, but not a single one of them felt, tasted like this. None of them made you feel this electric. Bringing you to new heights. You could feel yourself losing touch as Wreckers hands gripped at your hips this time, making you arch into him. Pressing against him, you heard the groan from deep in his throat. That was moment you knew you had to stop. Unfortunately. You needed to tell him how you felt. Truly.

Very reluctantly you pulled back from him, disconnecting your lips from his. Scarlet quickly flooded both of his cheeks as well as yours. Two blushing messes. You couldn't help but giggle lightly.

"W-woah that was-"

You pursed your lips together and nodded. "Yeah, it was—"

"You said you loved me!". Wreckers eyes grew at suddenly realizing what you had said in an heated exchange. He was stunned to say the least.

"I did—I do Wrecker".

His grip on your hips tightened, "I hurt you!".

You shook your head. "Wrecker when will you understand that it was an accident and not your fault. Watching you tear yourself apart...it hurts me. To watch someone I care about—"

"Love". He cut you off, a small smile blooming across his face. "You love me...".

Again you nodded.

"You love me".

You couldn't help laugh at how out of nowhere his mood had changed. It was if someone had given him a happy pill or put something in his drink, not that he was drinking anything of course. Maybe his earlier activities with Omega had started to affect him now, or perhaps she had said something to him that was now coming to the forefront of his mind.

"HAHA YOU LOVE ME!" He cheered like a Wookie on life day. Before you could even respond, he picked you in, raising you up in the air and twirled you around like you were a child.

You vigorously nodded. Fits of laughter erupting from within you. Bringing a hand to rest on his pink dusted cheeks, "Yes, Wrecker". You exclaimed. "I love you. So much". A magnetic storm of love and protection and so much more flowed in you as you remained in his embrace, the place you never wanted to be without. From the person you never wanted to be parted from.

"I'm so sorry". He sniffled, setting you down gently. "I hurt Tech and Rex. I-I didn't mean to! And Omega I-I scared her. I saw how scared you were too".

Lifting yourself up, you took hold of his face between your palms. "Wrecker, Omega is okay. From how she hugged you earlier, I'd say she's more revealed that you're okay. She didn't want to lose any of her brothers. Rex and Tech too. Though Tech probably won't outright admit it".

Wrecker chuckled lightly, "hah yeah..I'm sorry that I avoided you". He apologized, melting under your touch and pressing a light kiss to your palm, causing you to blush.

"I understand why you did. Just promise me next time that you won't run away. Talk to me, Wrecker. You're important to me. To all of us".

He chuckled. "Y-yeah okay. I promise". He met your eyes fully this time and that wonderful warm smile that you loved so much was back, gracing his features. "I love you, (Y/N)".

You leaned up on your tippy toes to rest your forehead up against his. Wrecker was a gentle giant with a heart of gold. At times he could be more worried about his next bag of mantel mix then when he'd get to blow something up. He had stolen your heart unexpectedly and you'd let him keep it. For as long as he wanted it. Though if said gentle giant could have it his way, then he'd keep it forever. As you were the only person for him. That was crystal clear to him as the day he fell hopelessly in love with you.

#star wars #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #clone force 99 #bad batch wrecker x reader #wrecker fanfic #bad batch wrecker #wrecker x reader #wrecker bad batch #tbb wrecker #bad batch x reader #tbb fanfiction #megabeewrites

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jaskiercommabard · 1 year

Note

Hi can I request “Let me do this, please.” for geraskier please and thanks 💛

I'm sorry this took so long! I am a slow writer on a good day, and I was planning on doing like a 300 word drabble but Geralt said NO. 2500 words or I feed you to Roach

Read on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Geralt, help me, please,” Jaskier screams.

Not Jaskier.

It is not Jaskier, but that doesn’t keep the blood from rushing in Geralt’s ears as he hunts the thing that has his voice.

Jaskier is safe, back at the inn - probably sleeping by now, or else terrorizing the pretty barmaid Geralt had left him flirting with. He’s safe, far away from this barren, gore-filled clearing, unless-

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have followed you.”

The voice is thick with tears, wobbling pitifully. The cries continue, ricocheting mercilessly through the forest.

“I’m afraid.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“Geralt, Geralt. I’m here.”

He is not here. The only trace of Jaskier comes from the strip of thick linen blocking Geralt’s vision, the barest memory of lemongrass and cinnamon hitting the air when he tugs the fabric more securely over his eyes. Beneath it, only rot.

Geralt turns in a slow circle, blade raised and ready to strike. He’s spent all day tracking the location of a nightwraith that has been calling young men to their deaths in the forest, and now the moon is high. Geralt is not a young man, so he is relieved to find - in a stroke of his peculiar sort of luck - that the nightwraith isn’t overly particular about which hearts it rips out and leaves at the edge of town.

“There you are,” it coos, the tone familiar and melodic. “I tried so hard to find you.”

It’s a perfect mockery of relief and exhaustion, the same sigh that greets him after a long day riding or a long night performing, and it’s close. Its feet fall just like Jaskier’s, a little heavier on his right side where his hip is starting to give him trouble - Geralt can almost see the unevenly worn soles of his boots crunching toward him through the blanket of leaves on the ground.

It's late enough in autumn that Jaskier would be grousing about the cold, and as soon as the thought crosses his mind, the creature's teeth begin to chatter.

“There’s something out here. I’m frightened. Why won’t you help me?”

Closer, now. Close enough for Geralt to lunge at it, and the gasp that falls into the quiet air when his sword finds the creature’s flesh belongs to Jaskier, too.

The strike falls short of a killing blow, thrust out blindly as it is, and does little more than confuse and enrage it. Soon the voices are overlapping, shrieking above him, losing their soft edge. Vicious wind tears around him and he’s caught in a squall of Jaskier weeping, Jaskier laughing, Jaskier howling in pain. It is behind him and before him, above him and around him, oppressive, inescapable. He has no choice but to rip the fabric from his eyes and-

And there is Jaskier, where Geralt knew he would be, kneeling in the dirt with trembling hands pressed into his side. A gruesome stain slips out from beneath his fingers, so similar to the red of his doublet that it only makes the fabric darker, and a matching ribbon of it falls from his mouth.

It’s a nightmare Geralt has woken from a thousand times, Jaskier all blue and pink and red, too red at the end of his own sword.

"Why?" the thing mouths, but it's lost, crackling out somewhere in the air instead of falling from his lips. The creature wields his voice like a weapon as it loses control, twisting that sweet tenor into something that stings his ears.

The taste of blood coats Geralt’s mouth and fills his nose, real and hot and nauseating. It's a strong illusion, built from grief and malice, and it has to end, now, before he cracks beneath the weight of it. He has no choice but to sprint past Jaskier to reach the corpse on the other side of the clearing, but even his enhanced speed is no match for a wraith this powerful. Fingers colder than ice wrap around his ankle and he is flung like a doll to the ground, knees singing with pain as they crash into the earth.

“Let me do this,” he shouts over the roaring wind, twisting back to face the wraith. He’s foolish for it, maybe, but it’s easier to argue with a monster when it wears a face he squabbles with a hundred times before breakfast most days. “Please. Let me help you!”

For a moment, the frigid hand on him only tightens. It’s enough to make his bones creak, but then Jaskier’s face softens, rippling out from the center. That familiar mop of messy hair turns golden, tumbling easily over a set of round, narrow shoulders. Finally, blue eyes turn maple brown - upturned and mournful, a perfect match to the farmer who had begged Geralt to find his missing daughter.

They had looked just like hers, watery and wide, when the man chased him down outside the alderman's hut. Find my girl, he had pleaded, pressing a stack of old coins into Geralt’s palm. Bring her home, however you can.

The flickery image of the girl nods once, just the barest dip of her chin as she releases his ankle. It’s enough for Geralt to lurch away, extending his hand to cast Igni over the too-small body decaying in the dry grass beside them. For a moment, above the rot and char and heat, the air is washed out with a breeze of sweet hay and lilies, and then she is gone.

What’s left behind is a maelstrom of untamed rage and malice, once more with Jaskier’s face, flickering now as the illusion struggles to hold itself together. Something sick and sharp blooms in Geralt’s throat, but he raises his sword anyway. He wavers, and the wraith smiles with his friend’s mouth. It’s all wrong - all sharp, dripping teeth jutting out from endless black, and that is just enough to snap Geralt back to focus.

The wraith shrieks, the witcher springs. It still has Jaskier’s tears and Jaskier’s hands and Jaskier’s sweet, wide eyes when it dies on Geralt’s sword.

The pleasant hum coming from the warmly lit hall of the Merry Magpie rises when Geralt stalks in the front door, its patrons ruffling like rattled hens at the sight of him. He forgoes the bar entirely - he’ll collect his coin from the alderman and deliver it along with a box of ashes to the farmer in the morning. Tonight, he’ll tend to the cold spike of grief and guilt settled in his own chest.

He can’t shake his unease as he climbs the stairs to the shadowy upper floor of the inn - it rolls around in his gut, sends his shoulders bunched halfway to his ears. It’s irrational, he knows, but the feeling only winds itself more tightly around his spine when he shoves open the door to their shared room and finds it empty.

Geralt swallows around the sharp thing creeping higher into his throat. The bard isn’t far, not with his lute and songsheets strewn about the bed. He’s just as likely to be in a room around the corner with that freckled barmaid, or out behind the inn with the stableman he’d been making eyes at all day, or-

“In here, Geralt!”

In his panic, he’d missed the thick humidity of the room and the scent of Jaskier’s soap, missed the familiar tick of his heart beating quarter-time against Geralt’s own.

“That is you, Geralt?” he continues, calling from behind the dressing screen in the corner of the room. “You’d better be Geralt, or you’ll have some explaining to do to my outrageously large and occasionally violent very best friend in the whole wide world-”

His voice swings up an octave when he turns to find the witcher only a few paces from him.

“Merciful gods, witcher, you really have to stop doing that. It’s…unnerving. I am unnerved. Has anyone ever told you you’re unnerving?”

Jaskier has. Frequently, but Geralt is so caught up in staring at his throat working, whole and unhurt, that he doesn’t answer.

“Fuck. Are you alright?” Jaskier asks as he rounds the steaming basin in the center of the room to close the space between them. His tone is tempered now, low and even, the way it is when he soothes Roach while Geralt picks pebbles out of her shoes. Geralt wets his lips but only nods, and careful hands rise up to pet him over anyway.

There’s a peculiar crease in his brow, a dimple beside his frowning mouth that, surely, no creature could ever mimic. It only deepens as he works away the armor to uncover Geralt piece by piece, unable to find any visible injury. The help only slows him down, really, but Jaskier is warm and real and his waist fits neatly into Geralt’s palm where his hand has drifted, so he lets himself be fussed over.

The bard is chirping away as he always is when the thorns start to prick at Geralt’s stomach again.

“Jaskier,” he tries to command, but it comes out strangled, “I need you to stop talking.”

The bard squawks indignantly, swatting at his shoulder where he’s masterfully knocking loose a pauldron that needs its latch replaced.

“You are so rude, do you know? You’re terrible to me.”

“Jask. Stop.”

Either Jaskier hears the plea he’s trying to swallow, or Geralt is bleeding out on the forest floor and hallucinating, because he snaps his mouth shut obediently and steps back. That’s wrong, that’s worse, so Geralt tightens the hand on his waist to draw him back into the circle of his arms.

He presses his face into the space beneath Jaskier’s jaw, because he wants to, and because he can’t help himself. His other hand drifts into the gently curling hair at the nape of Jaskier’s neck, damp with sweat and steam from the bath slowly cooling beside them. He startles slightly at the touch, but Geralt only noses in further.

After what has been only a moment for Geralt but certainly a small eternity for the bard, he speaks softly into the top of Geralt’s head.

“Just tell me what’s wrong, dear. Please.”

“It had your voice,” he whispers. Jaskier scoffs indignantly, but it’s missing some of his usual bluster.

“I can assure you, nothing and no one on this Continent has my-”

He cuts himself off, tensing in Geralt’s hold as the words hang above them.

Luring our men into the forest, the innkeeper's wife had said. They all heard it - their wives, lovers, calling to them in the night. It drove them mad, ripped their hearts out.

“It had my voice.”

He understands, and the meaning is cutting through the air like an arrow let loose too soon, flying outside Geralt's control.

“And you had to…?” Jaskier grimaces, all blunt teeth, and leans back to drag a thumb across his throat. Geralt nods tightly, follows the motion with his eyes and then with the tips of his own fingers. That familiar sparrow-heart pulse jumps up to meet his touch in the same soft and perfect spot where Geralt had plunged his sword.

“Oh, love,” he breathes, and it twists in Geralt's stomach like a fist. He slides his eyes away to track a bead of sweat falling from Jaskier's temple, and he can smell it - lemongrass and cinnamon, salt-sweet skin. No copper, no decay.

Though his blood moves too slowly for it to show, Geralt feels the flush high in his cheeks anyway, where it might blossom on a human's face - where it does begin to blossom on Jaskier's. It pricks strangely beneath his eyes, makes his tongue slow and clumsy.

“Did you know?”

A startled noise bubbles out of Jaskier as he meets Geralt’s gaze, but his eyes are fond and soft, wide with something that looks like wonder. Geralt leans into the tender brush of knuckles across his cheek, forgetting for a moment why he ever stopped himself before.

“That you love me?” He laughs, high and soft and musical. It's unbearable. “I suspected. Did you?”

The answer sits on his tongue like the last bite of an apple tart, lives in his throat like a shared skin of good wine, scratches at his chest like an ancient shirt stitched together by a musician's cautious hands.

“I must have. I-” he shakes his head as if the right words might tumble out of him. Jaskier only sighs, an easy smile stuck on his face as he raises his palm to Geralt's cheek. It's the same look he has when they meet each other on the road after a season apart.

He can’t reconcile the smile and the screaming, the image of the wraith still exploding like a bomb behind his eyelids.

"I'm sorry," he says, nonsensically. His thumb is back at the hollow of Jaskier's throat.

"For what?"

"I hurt you."

I cut you down as you begged me not to. As you cried out for me to help you. What does that make me?

"Show me," he whispers, just loud enough to hear over the peculiar tangle of their heartbeats. There is an unfamiliar look on his face, something curious and patient, something that makes him sweat even as the room is cooling.

Geralt swallows hard, presses his thumb into the top of Jaskier's throat, dragging it down until it meets the loosely gathered laces of his chemise. Jaskier's hands fly up to untie them, slowly exposing each precious inch of skin that had been rent and torn by the blade. Instead of steel, Geralt pulls gooseflesh along in his wake. It blooms along with the sweetly creeping flush that spreads across Jaskier's collarbones - blood brought to surface by his hand, again, so different this time.

Geralt continues his path over Jaskier's breastbone, across the dip between his ribs, until he reaches the spot above Jaskier's navel where his sword had struck its final blow. He follows the path again with the flat of his hand, up over a rabbiting heart until his palm rests in its place against Jaskier's neck. His breaths have gone thin and quick, the way they did when he was dying.

He's not dying, now - no, Jaskier is very much alive when he closes the meager space between them. He's alive when he tips their foreheads together, and Geralt wonders how he could ever have been fooled, seeing this face without the crinkles near his eyes and the easy flush in his cheeks. He’s so alive when their lips brush and it’s all sweet and hot, no ash left in the breath they share.

Geralt knows what Jaskier sounds like with steel in his throat, now, what he sounds like drowning in his own blood. He’ll never unlearn it. It's only fair, he decides, that he should know what Jaskier sounds like when his lips find that same place, when his tongue follows.

#Soooo this for sure got away from me lolol #Thank you so much for the prompt I hope this is okay!!!!!#Geralt x Jaskier #geraskier #geraskier fic #witcher fic #little fics #fic prompt #my brain does weird things when I ask it to write

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tenaciousjalapeno · 11 months

Text

Testing The Cat Lady

1/?

Pairing: LA Buggy the Clown x Reader

Summary: Captain Buggy invades your small town because that's kind of his thing. Your methods of escape pique his interest, so he drops everything and drags you back to his tent for a little chat. However, you're enraged when you realize that your beloved cat is nowhere to be seen.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2300

A/N: This is my first time writing really anything, so please don’t be mean or I’ll cry. Kind of experimenting and finding my own style, so I can't promise consistency lol. Definitely open to any tips/pointers

A bright light rouses you from your sleep. Ugh. Everything is sore. Your heavy eyelids protest as you force them open, being met with a blue-haired man in clown makeup standing mere feet from you. A gasp escapes your dry, bound mouth as you’re jolted back into reality, tensing every muscle in your body. Much to your chagrin, you can’t move an inch. Checking yourself over, you see that your hands and feet are bound to a circular board.

The man turns toward you. “Wellll, good morning, sleepyhead! Hope you enjoyed your nap,” the man says with a large smile plastered across his face. However, the smile is anything but friendly. His tone is hostile, and his eyes are cold. You glance around the room, but it’s difficult to discern where you are. A large spotlight shines upon you and the clown, dousing anything outside of its beam with darkness.

Anxiety builds in the pit of your stomach. You mumble against the cloth stuffed into your mouth, trying to ask what the hell is going on. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, waving a finger in front of you. “I saw your little show back in town. That’s why I dragged your sorry ass back here.” He paces in front of you, never dropping eye contact. All humor has left his face, a mixture of irritation and curiosity left in its place.

Of course, you know what he’s referencing. It was your devil fruit ability.

Earlier in the day, the unexpected and unwelcomed bell rang across town to warn that pirates were nearing. From your hilltop bungalow on the outskirts of town, the brightly colored ship bearing a Jolly Roger sail was visible. It appeared to be far enough out for you to have time to gather some belongings before evacuating, so you did exactly that. However, you underestimated how prepared the crew was. Several bands of pirates had already surrounded your town, one of which infiltrated your small neighborhood. Panic set in, and adrenaline rushed through you. So, as if on instinct, you started to sing.

Back in your teenage years, you were a traveler. Never staying in one place for too long, you visited dozens of islands and adventured through both large cities and undeveloped areas alike. One of your escapades led you to a devil fruit – the Hum-Hum fruit, to be exact. Being the adventurer you were, how could you resist?

It gave you the ability to influence peoples’ emotions by singing to them. It had its pros and cons, but ultimately made a good defensive ability. It helped you out of a lot of sticky situations throughout your journeys right up until you decided to settle on this island and call it home. You acclimated to the friendly town easily and even befriended a scruffy orange kitten, who you decided to call Mango.

Overwhelming the pirates with a false, but intense fear, they cowered before you as you slowly backed away with a small rucksack and Mango held against your che- Wait. Mango!

You start thrashing against your restraints, hurling muffled expletives at this blue-haired jackass. What the fuck did they do with him?

He smiled again, genuinely this time, finally getting the reaction that he wanted from you. “You seem like you’ve got something to say, doll,” he states, pleased with himself. “I’ll be gracious enough to let you explain what you were doing to my freaks.” Is this an opening? “Oh, and my cauliflower-eared friend, Klaus, here is going to make sure you don’t try anything.” A large man with scarred ears steps into the light, startling you. No. It was not, in fact, an opening. The big, dumb-looking guy steps forward and removes your gag. He then takes a step back, mumbling something to the blue-haired man. You’re not positive, but you’re pretty sure he called the blue-haired man “captain.” So this guy is the captain of the invading pirates? Doesn’t look like much, you thought.

The captain stares at you eagerly, waiting for an explanation. You meet his gaze with a glare, seething and ready for a fight. “What did you do with my cat?” His face falls in disbelief.

“What?” he asks incredulously.

“Where. Is. My. Cat!”

He stares back, taking a moment to fully process your words before he starts flailing and yells, “A cat? Buggy the Clown – captain of the most dreaded pirate crew the East Blue has ever known – has you tied up and helpless, ready to kill you if I have to, and you’re worried about a fucking cat?” Of course you are. Mango’s your best friend. Also, “most dreaded?” You’ve never even heard of him. This Buggy guy seems to think highly of himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know where your cat is. That is not the point. Now tell me what you were doing to my men!”

This guy clearly doesn’t comprehend how much you love your cat and how bull-headed you can be.

“I’m not answering anything until I have my cat back.”

“Fuck!” Buggy steps out of the light. You can’t see him, but you can hear him still yelling, utterly frustrated. “You, you, and you! Go find this dumbshit cat!”

You finally relax against the board, pleased. “He’s orange with a blue ribbon around his neck,” you call in a sing-song voice toward the darkness.

Buggy returns to the light and comes close, only stopping once your noses – wait is that clown nose real? – are nearly touching. “Once they bring that stupid cat back, you’re answering any question I’ve got.”

“Whatever you say, captain,” you reply, smirking. With a final huff, he steps once more into the darkness. Initially, you were filled to the brim with fear, but seeing how much of an idiot this guy is puts you at ease. It takes roughly 30 minutes before you finally hear hissing and yowling in the distance. Atta boy, Mango. Give ‘em hell.

Another man, this one wearing a bear hood, steps into the light holding Mango out as far away from his body as possible. Bear-boy is clearly scratched to shit and relieved to finally be able to get this thing away from him. He drops your cat and dips back into the darkness as quickly as possible. Mango lets out another loud hiss before calming at the sight of you and trotting over to rest at your feet.

Buggy walks back up to you, clearly no less aggravated than he was earlier. “Now answer my questions, shithead! What were you doing to my men?” The nicknames are getting a little more aggressive now, huh?

You shoot him a dirty look and slowly choose your words while looking down to make sure your cat hasn’t been harmed. His tail is puffed out in anger, but he seems fine otherwise. “I was singing to them,” you reply matter-of-factly.

The clown’s face falls again, in stark contrast of the large, red smile painted onto his face. “Singing,” he repeats flatly. “You were singing.” It’s not even a question so much as a statement. The gears in his head start turning, and he mumbles to himself. “I figured it was a witch’s incantation or something. How does singing have any effect on my men?”

“It’s my devil fruit ability.” His face whips toward you. This clearly has his interest piqued. As fun as it would be to torment this clown, you just want to get out of these restraints, so you decide to give him the information he so clearly wants outright. “I ate the Hum-Hum fruit. I can control peoples’ emotions by singing to them.”

Licking his lips and smiling, Buggy stares at you even more intently now. “Show me.”

“Let me down first.” Bargaining might not be in your cards right now, but you decide it’s worth a shot. Surprisingly, the bold request pays off though, as the captain comes forward to undo your restraints. With him this close, you notice that he has a surprisingly nice floral scent.

“I’ll need an audience,” you say, rubbing your sore wrists once freed. With a nod, he looks into the darkness and jerks his head, motioning for several unseen crewmates to come closer. Scooping Mango up off the ground, you finally step out of the oppressive spotlight. It takes a minute for your eyes to fully adjust, but you take in the room. It’s more of a tent, really, with striped tarps set up and seating placed around the edge. Fitting, you suppose, for a circus clown to reside in a circus tent. Your eyes land on your small audience seated on the benches. It’s only four people, one of which is Bear-boy, now with gauze wrapped around his hands and forearms. Smiling back down at Mango, you give him some scritches under his chin, making him purr softly. What a good boy.

“Alright, doll. Go ahead.” Back to the nice nicknames now that he’s getting his way, it seems. Holding up your end of the bargain, you fulfill his request. This captain is a fool though, letting you freely use your ability. Once you’ve got them cowering again, you’re going to book it out of the tent. The big, cauliflower-eared guy can’t hear you, but you should still be able to outrun him.

As you start singing, the captain watches on with a large smile, looking back and forth between you and your audience. They laugh, then cry, then start yelling and throwing punches at each other. But… Why isn’t Buggy reacting? A gloved hand – a dismembered hand – flies forward and clasps your mouth shut. Holy shit! You jump back with wide eyes, but the hand follows. Looking back to the captain, you see that his smile has grown impossibly wide. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the audience scurry away. What the hell is he trying to pull? Eyeing him up and down you notice that his left arm ends in a stump. Wasn’t there a hand there before? The moment your eyes dart back up to his face a set of what appear to be ears comes flying toward him and pop back onto the sides of his head.

As much as you want to, your body is too frozen in fear to back away. The clown releases your mouth and the hand returns to him and pops onto the end of his arm. He laughs at your expression and circles you. “What, you think you’re the only person who’s ever eaten a devil fruit? I myself ate the Chop-Chop fruit.” Right before your eyes, his body breaks apart into a dozen pieces before reassembling. So that’s why he wasn’t affected by your ability. He can’t hear you if his ears are off somewhere else. “You can slice me, and you can dice me, but I will always put myself back together again.”

Klaus comes forward and grabs you by the arms, making Mango fall to the ground. He once again stands before your feet hissing at the captain in a feeble attempt to protect you. Buggy’s detached hand flies toward your cat grabbing him by the scruff and pulls him up toward his face. Mango writhes, trying to free himself to no avail.

“No!” you scream. “You leave him alone!”

That annoyingly perpetual smile remains plastered on Buggy’s face. Four daggers slide from his coat, one between each of his fingers, in a clear attempt to intimidate you. “Or what?” You have no answer for him. In ideal circumstances, you could influence him to lose interest in both you and your cat, but being bound by a big deaf guy seriously limits your chances of escape. The feelings of panic and despair from earlier are flooding back to you. Tears fall down your face.

“I- I don’t know,” you admit with a small sob. “Please don’t hurt him. He’s all I have.”

Buggy’s smile falters for a moment at your begging. If you blinked, you would have missed it. Recovering his smile again, he taps the daggers against his chest, pretending to mull over your pleas. “Alright, I won’t.” He steps closer again, now inches away from you. “If you join my crew, that is. You could prove useful.”

You look up at him. His blue-green eyes – which are admittedly, the most beautiful you’ve ever seen – stare back at you intently. Inexplicably, there’s a flutter in your chest, but it’s quickly replaced with a hard drop as Mango lets out another yowl. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “I’ll join your crew. Just please give me back my cat.” He takes a step back and his hand comes forward to place Mango back into your arms. You hold your scared pet to your chest, stroking him in an attempt to soothe both him and yourself.

“Cabaji,” Buggy shouts, summoning a man with strange striped hair forward. “We just added another showstopping member to our crew. This is cause for celebration, don’t you think?” The man, Cabaji, nods and disappears into another room off the main tent. The clown turns to face you once more, his smile more subtle now. He grabs your arm and dismisses Klaus. For a split second, you consider taking this chance to run, but something tells you that your freedom would be short-lived. “I’m so happy you decided to join me, doll,” he says much more softly now. “You and your little friend there will make a nice addition to the show.”

Wrapping his arm around you, he steers toward the door that Cabaji left through moments ago. He leans down close to your ear, his breath tickling as he quietly states, “By the way, songbird. I’ve got a strict agreement with Mohji to not hurt cats.”

#one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #one piece #buggy live action #captain buggy #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x you

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