#you are not them. you are your own human person

[absurdthirst]

Fucking Fungus {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN, dub con, post apocalyptic world, scavenging, guilt, shame, desire, Joel having a bad attitude, mentions of periods, rough sex, neediness, unprotected sex, cream pie

Comments: Coming across Wymore, NE, you hoped to find some much needed supplies for the coming winter but you find that the fungus has mutated in dangerous and frightening ways. Needing to insure that there are more hosts to infect in a very basic kind of way.

🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉Happy Birthday @storiesofthefandomlovers!!!! I love you and hope you have the best damn day! In thotty tradition, here is a sex pollen to celebrate another year around the sun!🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The world has changed in the past twenty years. None of it for the betterment of humanity. The crunch of the dried leaves grinds under your boots and your head rotates left and then right as you watch, listen. Waiting for any sign of life or more importantly, danger. The weight of your rifle is heavy in your hands, although you hold it down, unassuming but ready to be lifted at a second’s notice. 

“I don’t know why you don’t just hook it over your shoulder.” Ellie snorts, her backpack bouncing slightly on her back from the steps that seem so unencumbered by worry. Why should she worry when there are two fully armed adults on either side of her. Her own personal guard in a manner of speaking. “There hasn’t been anything out here for daaaaaays.” She drags the word out like it's the most horrible thing in the world that it’s been peaceful. 

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes as you glance over at him and then look back out at the surrounding terrain. “Yeah, that’s why we are on guard.” He grunts, even though his own rifle is on his shoulder. His hand gripped the shoulder sling loosely but he had only just put it up there half an hour ago after you had taken your turn relaxing as much as you can. “it’s too fucking quiet.” 

He’s right. After the disasters that had been Kansas City, you had tried to avoid major cities, but even in the small towns, you had come across plenty of cordyceps and clickers. You hate the clickers with a passion.

The isolation can account for a lot of the silence. Miles stretching between remnants of civilization. The crumbling buildings and overgrown roads give the entire midwest a sense of peace. It’s unnerving. 

Your grip adjusts, head rolling around your shoulders slightly to try to loosen the knot that builds up in your shoulders after so long. The weight of your pack isn’t as heavy as it should be, the rations not exactly filling since you had to escape that one clicker in Du Bois, Nebraska. Your pack had been ripped and most of the food you had been carrying was lost. 

You glance over at Joel, noticing the way his shoulders seem to hang, almost a reflection of the way you feel. “We need to risk a larger town.” You murmur quietly, knowing that his first instinct will be to argue with you. You stumble slightly over a rock and hiss when you feel the hole in the sole of your boots. 

“Too dangerous.” Joel snorts, shaking his head even as he watches you regain your footing. “I’ve got some duct tape in my bag.” He reminds you, knowing that you should probably reinforce that shoe before you lose the sole all together. 

“It’s not just shoes.” You protest, trying to ignore the way that Ellie groans obnoxiously loud and stomps her foot. 

“Come on, man!” She throws her own arguments into the ring. “I need tampons! We could find them if there was jack shit out here, but there’s not. Do you want me to attract wild animals?” She presses, glaring at Joel who looks equal parts horrified and unconvinced. She cracks an evil grin. “Circling us in the wild as I just leave behind a trail of blood? Aaaaand tears.” She adds, lifting her brows. “Periods are really emotional things.” 

Biting your lip to keep from snorting, you watch as Joel; normally stoic, no bullshit Joel, can’t seem to string together the words to respond. His eyes slide over to you, almost pleading with you to say something. 

Your brows lift in question and he twitches slightly, his dark eyes unhappy with you not immediately jumping in to save him. “We could use the food if we can find any.” You rationalize, smirking when his brows pinch together and he looks like he had just been betrayed. 

“Clean underwear!” Ellie adds. “Or….cleaner. And a heavier fucking coat.” She shivers slightly and you can see that is the moment when Joel caves. He acts like a prick most of the time, but he’s got a soft spot for the kid. He won’t admit, maybe not even to himself, but he looks over at the faded and nearly rusted out sign. 

You continue walking, not pressing any more and you can hear the grumbling thoughts that are rolling through Joel’s mind. The now half hearted protests about why this is such a bad idea but you wait for the sigh. 

Almost even with the sign is when it comes, heavy and it sounds almost pained. Like he is going against everything he believes in. “Stop.” He huffs, shuffling to pull his bag off his back and kneeling down with a groan and the small pops of fifty plus year old knees. Unzipping the pocket where he keeps the Atlas and flips the worn pages to Nebraska. Glancing back at the road behind you and then at the sign before looking at the map. Tracing the route that you had already traveled before looking ahead at the towns that were on highway 77. 

Ellie doesn’t say a word but she practically bounces on her toes as she waits for his decision. You know that he’s going to agree, it’s just a matter of which town he chooses. He knows the truth of the situation. Winter is going to come quicker than any of you want, your food supply is low, you could probably all use a new set of boots, and all of you would kill for a halfway decent musty mattress to sleep on. Four walls and a hopefully non-leaking roof over your heads would be the icing on the cake. 

“Wymore is coming up in fifty-eight miles.” He taps the map and looks up at you to see what you think. 

Ellie shuffles slightly and instead of grinning, you crane your neck to look at the map yourself. “It looks like it’s bigger than the last few towns, but at least it’s not like we are running into Lincoln.” You hum before you nod. “I say we try.”

“Yessssss!” The teenager pumps her fist in excitement and she grins when Joel rolls his eyes. You’ve noticed that like any normal teenager, her favorite activity is annoying any kind of parental unit and pushing boundaries. This applies to Joel whether or not he likes it. “I want to find another joke book too.” 

Joel groans but you just turn around, grinning yourself as Joel mumbles under his breath, stuffing the map back in his pack and zipping it up. Joel and Ellie are alike in a lot of ways, especially their penchant for mumbling. 

You resist the urge to offer him a hand up, knowing he will be even more pissy if you do. For someone who complains about being older, he gets downright grouchy when he’s reminded of that same fact. “Well then, the quicker we get there, the quicker we don’t have to hear ‘are we there yet?’.” You snort, making Ellie grin shamelessly as she shrugs, knowing she will do exactly that. 

“So let’s get going.” She doesn’t wait for anyone, just setting off down the road and leaving the two of you to catch up with her. 

****

It takes you nearly three days to get to Wymore. All of you are tired, but Joel is the one who barely sleeps, even when you force him to lay down. It’s as if he cannot stop trying to protect Ellie, and also you, long enough for him to rest. He gets upset when he has to sleep, staying up until he is nodding off. The coffee supply has been exhausted and it’s probably a good thing. He would drink it all day to the point where his hands would shake from too much caffeine. Still he just wouldn’t trust you to make sure that no one snuck up on you for a few hours until he was past the point of being useless. 

The first signs of the town are a welcomed relief but it’s also an added source of tension. Each mile that you had traveled had added to the fear that this might be the time that you fail. That something goes wrong and someone else dies. The road here has not been easy and the losses have weighed heavily on all of you. Joel still won’t even mention Tess and you hate it when you wake up in the early morning hours to find him staring down at the broken face of his watch with a look that breaks your heart. 

Every approach into a new area can mean danger, either from the clickers or from humans and honestly you don’t know which one you fear more. Your gun is back in your hand, the weight of it familiar and comforting as you pass the first gas station, the windows busted out and dried fungus clinging to the building. 

“Fuck.” You hiss, uneasy at the presence of the fungal vines, even if they look like they aren’t active.

“I wonder why it looks pink.” Ellie frowns as she squints at the building. “It’s usually an ugly brown color, right?” She looks towards Joel for confirmation, but he’s busy frowning at the building himself. 

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” If the cordyceps have spread this far out of town then there’s a possibility there are still active branches closer to the supplies that you are looking for. 

“Come on man.” Ellie groans, kicking a dirt clod. “There’s nothing for miles. It’s probably all dead.” 

You know that Ellie is probably right, but it’s a risk. You bite your lip, looking over at Joel. “Why don’t we sweep the town and we can see?” You ask, knowing that if everything is dead, you could desperately use the rest. Cordyceps rarely return en masse when the vines have withered and died. It could be a safe place to recharge and for Joel to sleep for more than ten minutes at a time. 

You’ve stopped walking as you talk, Joel looking around as he contemplates your alternatives. To be honest, there aren’t many and both of you know it. Not without a lot of backtracking which none of you want to do. 

Joel sighs and you know that he’s going to agree. He turns to Ellie. “Don’t fucking touch anything until we say it’s alright.” He points at her for good measure, as if his finger would impress the importance of his words. “Got it?” 

“Got it.” She huffs. “Jesus, you act like we haven’t done this before.” You roll your eyes and look away, knowing you shouldn’t encourage her right now. 

It takes hours to make your way into the center of town. Not because you are blocked by clickers or avoiding humans, it’s because you are stocking up. It’s like the fungus took over this town and just let it rot. Nothing inside the first few blocks of town is disturbed. No looting has been done here, plenty of supplies to be had. 

Both you and Joel have been cautious but slowly optimistic as you’ve found boots and heavy jackets, gloves and hats. A new pair of clothes have been rolled into everyone’s bags and you’ve even grabbed another pack to fill with the mylar sealed packs of camping food from the sporting goods store. It was a miracle that nothing had been ransacked, but it makes you wonder exactly what the fuck happened here. Did the army sweep through and round up all the residents right away? It would make sense, but then why were there dead spores of the fungus here? You haven’t seen one body so far and it makes you nervous. 

“This place is a fucking gold mine.” Ellie grins like a kid in a candy store, perhaps because you’ve actually found candy and she has been sucking on the jolly ranchers until the top of her mouth is raw. “Now we just need to find a place to sleep. I want my own room.” 

Glancing over at Joel, you expect him to immediately tell her no, but he doesn’t say a word. Continuing to look around like he is expecting a clicker to pop out from the doorway of the local McDonald’s, now completely covered in that strange pink fungus. It’s like he doesn’t even hear her as he frowns at the building. 

She takes that as approval and immediately starts talking about how she’s going to spread out. Making you snort when she talks about sitting in her underwear for an hour. There hasn’t been a lot of privacy out here on the road, so you can understand that desire. 

“Joel.” You murmur his name softly, knowing that the best thing you can do is to find the motel and get settled down for the night before the sun sets. Even if this town is as safe as it appears on the surface, you would rather not be fumbling around in the dark . He doesn’t look over at you, still staring at the overgrown building as if it’s holding the secret. Maybe it reminds him of the Boston Museum, ominously covered with the tentacles of the fungus and the horrors that you had found inside it. “Joel!”

“What?” His head whips around, body tense as he’s ripped out of his thoughts. Relaxing when he finds you and Ellie staring at him. “We need to find the motel.” You remind him, nodding towards the sun getting lower in the sky. “I think we could all use a good night’s sleep.” 

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes searing your face, looking for some hidden meaning beneath your words before he glances over at an eager Ellie. “Yeah, sure.” He agrees, adjusting his rifle to sling it onto his shoulder and adjusts his now much heavier pack on his back. “Probably on the other side of the main drag.” 

His new boots thump against the cracked pavement. The roads leading deeper into the town is the guide towards what will hopefully be a comfortable bed and at least eight hours of sleep. 

Your own new boots feel pretty good, but maybe a day or so here, going through supplies and really making sure that you can take on the coming winter would be a good thing. Allowing you to break in the shoes without blisters. You’ll have to talk about it with Joel after Ellie sequesters herself for the night. 

It’s about another fifteen minutes before you get to the small motel that looks like it will be a good place to spend the night. Half the building is covered in another large cluster of the fungus, the pink hue looking particularly bright in the fading sun. 

“We’ll get some keys.” It will be better than breaking down doors, especially since the motel wasn’t equipped with the keycards that the high end hotels had started switching to before society came crashing down. 

The bad news is that the motel doesn’t have any adjoining rooms, so Joel and Ellie get into a small spat about her having her own room, Ellie eventually winning after promising that she will block the door with a dresser and he’s allowed to sweep the room before she locks herself in. Half the building is so overtaken by the vivid pink fungus that you swear looks like a big splat of bubblegum thrown over the walls. 

She doesn’t even want to have dinner with you and Joel, making the man go through the room and then telling you both goodnight and shutting the door in your face. Making you laugh as Joel frowns at the door, rethinking this entire situation. 

“Well, you can have a room to yourself too.” You offer, smirking as he cuts his eyes towards you. You know that Joel would rather everyone sleep where he can keep his eyes on them, so you getting privacy is off the table. 

“Shut up.” Joel grunts, walking down towards the next room and kicking it open, watchful even though you’ve both already been in the room and deposited your bags. It’s a nice room, two double beds so each one of you can stretch out and relax. 

You laugh quietly and decide to walk down the railing towards the portion of the building that has been overtaken by the fungus. Your curiosity about this variant is finally getting the best of you and you want to get a better look at it. 

It’s thick. The tendril that is draped over the metal railing of the second floor, wrapping around it and up the support column. You bite your lip, tilting your head when you see the withered remnants of some kind of flower. What kind of fungus sprouts flowers?

You jump when something touches your back, whirling around to find Joel behind you, holding his hands up. He smirks at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Fuck you.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes and he huffs. “What are you doing?” He asks. 

Turning back towards the fungus, you sigh. “This is different from any other kind I’ve ever seen.” You comment, stepping closer to it only to feel Joel reach for your arm to pull you back. “It’s dried out.” You remind him, jerking your head towards the husk of the cordyceps. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” You know that he spent a lot of time sneaking out of the Boston QZ, it’s possible he had seen it before. 

He grunts, relaxing his hold on you and he shuffles slightly closer, looking at the flower buds that extend from the tendrils. His own suspicions about anything fungus related is deep, but it’s dried. “I haven’t.” He admits after a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly and trying to think if there is any reason why this pink coloring has the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

“So it’s something new.” You bite your lip and lean in, feeling the disapproval radiate off of Joel in hot waves but you ignore him. Tilting your head and reaching out to touch one of the dried flowers. 

“Don’t-”

The second your finger touches the wilted bloom, it bursts open, spurting you and Joel behind you in a cloud of pink dust. You gasp, holding your breath but there’s no hope for not inhaling the pollen. 

“Fuck!” Joel coughs, shaking his head and backing up so quickly he hits the side of the building and reaches out to drag you away from the lingering cloud of dust and starts to practically beat it off the two of you. “We need- we need-” He leans over and starts coughing, obviously having inhaled just as much of it as you had. 

“We’re okay.” You gasp, shaking your head and brushing the dust off your clothes. “We- it’s dead. Right?” You hate that you are asking that, but you hadn’t expected that from a dried out fungus.

“It- we should clean up.” Joel blinks, the pollen making his eyes itch and that has to be the cause of the rush of heat that slides over him. It’s just adrenaline. Fear. Anything that would scare both of you would make the slight nip in the air disappear and make you feel like your skin is superheated.

The water is gravity fed. The large cisterns on the roof are still full and while it’s not warm, perhaps a cold shower might be better right now. Joel drags you both to the room and locks the door, although he doesn’t push a dresser in front of it in case Ellie needs you in the night. 

In the bathroom, you are shaking as you start to strip down, worrying about how stupid you just were and if you completely fucked yourself. The anxious fear covering the way your skin seems to burn and feel so sensitive to everything. Shuddering when your hand brushes over your thigh as you push your jeans down and kick them off before you pull your shirt over your head and remove your bra. 

Clean up. Get the pollen off your skin and cool down. Your body seems to be working on overdrive. Your nipple hard under the cold water and instead of gasping in shock, you moan softly. Enjoying the sensation and reaching for the bar of soap that is still wrapped in plastic. 

Hurry up, hurry up. Joel paces around the room, his hands curled into fists. Practically sweating even though the air is cool as the sun sets. His body feels like it’s on fire, like he is battling a sickness. 

Over and over again, he goes through the symptoms of the infection of the cordyceps, there’s no veining, he’s stopped and checked his eyes and reflection in the peeling mirror about twenty times in the five minutes you’ve been in the bathroom. And he doesn’t fucking think the fungus makes his cock harder than a fucking rock in his jeans. 

He’s not thought about sex in months. Nothing beyond fleeting moments of attraction to you that he swiftly buries under guilt and responsibility. Normally, it is when you’re bent over and your ass is presented to him in such a way that he thinks about sinking into you from behind, or when your shirt pulls tight over your breasts and he imagines cupping them in his hands as you sit on his cock. Immediately dismissed and ignored as he reminds himself of how he had failed Tess, he doesn’t deserve to find warmth and comfort in your arms. 

Now, it’s all he can think about. The urge to palm his cock makes his fingers twitch and he almost moves his hand over his crotch before he flinches back to reality and tries to examine his face in the mirror again, wondering if his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep or if he is infected. 

Scrubbing your body is nearly painful, wanting to stop and touch yourself, but you can’t. You need to get this done and get out so Joel can shower. Still, despite the cold water, you feel like you are on fire when you shut off the water and realize that you didn’t bring your bag into the bathroom. You will have to go out there in nothing because you can’t put those clothes back on. Not until they have been washed. 

Moderately dry, you hear Joel bang on the door. “Hurry up.” He growls, making you clench your thighs together at the raspy tone and hating how it spears through you. You know Joel isn’t interested in you, hasn’t ever looked at you like that and the crush that you had on the man had been buried deep. 

“I’m done.” You don’t have a chance to be embarrassed as you open the door and Joel practically shoves past you into the bathroom and slams it behind him. “Fuck.” Your annoyance cools the heat for a moment, but it’s only temporary. 

The water is icy, but still, Joel curls his hands into fists against the shower wall. He’s fucking hard. Harder than he had probably ever been in his entire life, even when he was a horny teenager and would have fucked anyone who let him between their thighs. He’s not felt like this ever. The need to touch himself builds to the point where his hips are rocking into thin air against the spray of the water. Want clawing up his throat and pooling in his stomach in a heavy knot. 

You don’t dress, you can’t. Crawling under the covers of one of the beds, you listen to Joel groan in the bathroom, it’s muted over the sound of the shower but it’s sexy. All of his sounds are sexy, from the low grunts he gives when he’s stiff and sore, to the huffs and groans of annoyance. It’s all sexy to you. The rasp of his voice when he’s not spoken for a few hours. 

Closing your eyes, it’s easy to give in, to let your hands drift over your skin. He’s not here, you can take care of this frantic need that is swirling inside you. You just need to slide your hand between your thighs and ease it. It wouldn’t take much more than a few swipes of your fingers against your pulsing and aching clit. 

Trying to fight it, you concentrate on your breathing, in and out. Inhaling slowly and holding it so you can exhale when the burn in your lungs tells you that you’ve reached your limit. It helps, but not much. Not when you’re imagining Joel in his shower. Touching him. Being free to touch him and having his hands on your body in return. 

Your hands slip over your breasts, squeezing them hard enough to moan softly and your legs shift to press together. Clenching around nothing and wishing that you were full while your hands start to move down over your stomach. 

The first touch is almost a relief, your entire core quivering as your fingers press against your clit. It’s overwhelming and not enough. You need more, fingertips pressing and rubbing around the puffed up bundle of nerves. You’re already soaked and can feel it dripping down your slit. 

Spurred on by that insatiable need, you slide your fingers around your entrance and start to press them inside. Biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Imagining that it’s more, that it’s a cock that is starting to break you open and fill that void that is aching. 

You are so caught up in the bliss of that first stretch of your fingers that you don’t hear the shower turn off. The quiet curses coming from the bathroom are muffled by the rush of blood in your ears, the feeling of relief coursing through your nerves and taking over. You don’t hear the click of the lock and the turn of the handle. The door opening doesn't even register as you plant your heels on the bed and push your hips up, needing to get your fingers deeper, not quite reaching the spot inside you that craves fullness. 

You don’t hear him until he chokes out a sound that is pained and low, like he’s injured. Your eyes pop open as you lurch up off the bed, your fingers ripping themselves out of your cunt hard enough to make you whimper. Fixed on Joel’s towel draped body, tented over his waist. 

“Joel, I-” “Fuuuuuck.” He growls, his eyes closing and his hands bunches into fists, one holding his towel and the other by his side. “I’ve tried to not think about you, about touching you.” His words are rasped out, strained against his vocal cords. “I’ve goddamn beat into my brain that you aren’t to be thought about this way and now, I can’t stop.” His stomach clenches and his body twitches as he struggles to keep still. 

Your chest heaves and you see his eyes drop down to your uncovered tits. His jaw clenching and his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. “I - I need to touch myself.” You admit breathlessly. “I - it hurts so bad and I need something inside me.” 

Joel groans again, shuddering so violently that you can see him shake from where you are. “I’ve jerked off in the shower twice and it's still hard.” He drops the towel, revealing his hard and leaking cock, making you whimper at the sight and clench around nothing. “I think that- that we- that the flower-” “I don’t care.” You moan, shaking your head and crawling to your knees and shuffling forward. Showing him all of you and so goddamn desperate to touch him that you think you are about to explode. “Touch me, Joel. Fuck, touch me, please.” You beg, your hands on your own body. “We-” He shakes his head and his face changes, morphs into pain.

“Fuck me.” You hiss, watching as his resolve breaks. His cock bounces as he lunges for you, hard and swift, driving you back to the bed with a bounce. Almost as if he is attacking you. 

He’s not gentle. His mouth finding yours in a harsh kiss, your permission unleashing the coils of restraint that he had tried to put on himself. His grip bruises as he hauls you up the bed and settles between your thighs. 

You’ve always attributed Joel with rough gentleness. The type of man who would make you ache and then hold you close. Groaning in pleasure when you find out that is exactly what Joel Miller is like. His hands spreading your thighs with a desperation that proves he is just as afflicted by this fungal pollen as you are. His cock hard and pressing against your folds as he rocks his hips forward to line up. Almost unable to find the hole with his eagerness to sink into you. 

“Joel, hurry.” Your hands shake, holding onto him and urging him closer to you, frantic with need now that you know that you are going to have him inside you. 

“Goddamn, I’m trying.” He hisses, hating to let you go so he can take his cock in hand. Rocking into his own grip as he shuttles his hips forward. “I’m fuckin’ trying, sweetheart.” 

You whimper when you finally feel him pressing against your entrance, choking out a sound of need that is animalistic. Only to cry out in bliss as he pushes inside you without another delay. 

He groans, eyes cinched shut as he slides inside you to the hilt, burying himself in your heat and feeling that coil in his stomach tighten even more now that your walls are around him. Immediately starting to move just as soon as he fills you, driving by that need and burning in his very veins. 

It’s exquisite, the pain and pleasure blending and fusing in your stomach, nerves alight and responding to every small movement. You can’t get enough of him, you need more. Wrapping  your legs around his hips, you rise to meet his harsh thrusts. Clenching down around him every time he hits that spot deep inside you that you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 

He shouldn’t be inside you, he shouldn’t be touching you, but now that he is, he can’t stop. Turning his head, he presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth. Needing more. Kissing you like he had imagined a thousand times before. Giving into every urge he has had since the day he met you and repressed before right now. Snapping his hips forward sharply and pulling every groan out of your mouth to swallow down. 

Every thrust makes it better, eases that burning in your core, your cunt slick and squelching every time he drives into you. He absorbs every sound you make, almost greedy for them. His hips jarring as they slam into you. Rocking you both up the bed. 

“Oh god,” breaking away from the kiss, you moan into his ear. Closing your eyes as he pants and puffs while he fucks you. “So deep, so deep, Joel.” Your nails drag down his back, making him hiss in pleasure and pain. 

“Shit.” He groans your name, lost in the rhythm of his thrusts and the building pressure. “You needed this?” He growls, making you clench down around him hard and whimper his name. “Yessss.” You agree, nodding against the pillow. “Needed it so bad.” 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He huffs, burying his face against your neck. Continuing to pound into you, and not letting up even though his back is screaming in pain. His body won’t let him do anything but rock his hips. Driven by a need that overrides everything else. 

His words make you burn, making you even more desperate for him. Your hips rock up and legs tightening around his waist even more. Loving how his cock stretches you out and scrubs against every nerve in your cunt. Lighting up your body until you are gasping on the edge of that much needed orgasm. 

Every plunge into your body brings him closer to cumming, desperate to feel that emptiness, that wrung out filling once he has filled you. He shouldn’t cum inside you, he knows that, but he’s not going to be able to stop himself. He can barely pull back enough to rock his hips back into you. 

His arms have banded around you, holding you into place as he fucks you. Deep and primal, as if he is trying to fuse the two of you into one. His cock punches into the depths of your body that you never imagined anyone reaching, but he touches it with ease. Your body pulsing with that need to come apart. 

“So close, I’m so close, baby.” You whine, body starting to tremble underneath him. “So close.” Your nails dig into his shoulder, grounding yourself to him in desperation. “Joel.” 

“I gotcha.” He groans, eyes closed and his breath fanning against your skin. “I’mma take good care of you, sweetheart.” He promises. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, ain’t cha? Just like you wanted.” 

His words throw you over the edge, that need built up so tight inside you that it busts on the next thrust. Lights careen and collide behind your eyes, bright and beautiful as your whole body ignites into pleasure like you’ve never experienced before. Crying out loudly and soaking  him in a wave of your juices. Cumming harder than you ever have before. 

Joel growls your name, his hips stuttering as you come apart around you. Unable to hold back any longer. He buries himself deep into your hot passage and paints your walls with sticks ropes of his seed. Panting against your lips as he empties himself body and perhaps his very soul into you. 

Both of you pant, relieved and exhausted from the pure exertion of need as you had taken from each other. Joel presses into you, trying to catch his breath, but the fire is still burning low in his belly, his cock still not softening as it twitches inside you. 

“Oh fuck.” You feel that same desire still curling in your stomach, not satisfied by the intensity of the orgasm that you are still coming down from. “Joel-” 

He huffs and shakes his head. “Don’t-” he presses his lips to your again, body screaming as he starts to move again. “Shhhhhh.” 

The need still burns and both of you are still locked in its fiery grip, not yet free from the desire that washed over you from a burst of pollen. 

****

“What the fuck man, open the door!” The thudding on the door finally penetrates the bone deep sleep you had finally fallen into. You don’t know how many time Joel fucked you, or how many times he had spend himself inside you as you blearily open your eyes. 

Joel grunts, slowly opening his own eyes and unwinding himself from the tangled together position that you had passed out in. The knocking on the door keeps on. “Joel!” Your name is also shouted, Ellie starting to sound somewhat panicked when neither one of you is immediately opening the door. 

“Fuck! I’m coming.” He drags the top blanket off the bed and wraps it around his waist before flinging the door opened to blink into the harshness of the sun. “What?” He growls roughly, making Ellie’s eyes blow wide with shock.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” She demands, pushing into the room and stopping short when she sees you sitting up in the only bed that has been disturbed, the sheet anchored beneath your armpits. “Oh shit, you fucked.” She gasps, turning and shooting Joel an impressed grin. “Way to go, old man, you made a move.” Her grin quickly turns into an expression of mild disgust when she realizes that she’s congratulating you two on having sex. “Uh, I’m gonna go now.” She huffs, wrinkling her nose and pinching it. “It smells in here.” Waving her hand in front of her face, she darts back out the door and Joel just stands there for a moment before he rolls his eyes and goes to shut the door before he thinks better of it. Sticking his head out of the room, he shouts after Ellie. “Stay away from the fucking fungus!” 

You snort, grinning to yourself as your body starts to ache. Fucking fungus indeed. 

[fandoms-x-reader]

Period Cramps

Requested By: @olivia-willo-w

Summary: The brothers find out (thanks to Satan) what a period is and try to help you through yours. The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 2,257

Periods are something that has become so normalized in the human world. 

It's a natural thing that happens to women and it shouldn’t be something to be embarrassed about.

But, in the Devildom, the only other human you had was a male. 

There was no one down there who would understand the process your body goes through once a month.

And that made it hard to talk about it.

You figured it would just be easier to keep them in the dark rather than try and explain it.

But, sometimes when you're on your period, it had a mind of its own.

You were having a bad cramp while at dinner with the brothers and you did your best to hide your pain.

But, Satan could tell you were in pain and he was worried about you. Not to mention, he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to show his brothers how smart he was.

See, Satan was your resident human expert.

When he found out that a human was coming to live with him and his brothers, he read every book he could find about humans and when he was done with those, he grabbed all of the specific books about females.

He wanted to know everything he could before you got down there.

So, when you were having your period in the Devildom, Satan immediately knew what was happening and was well-versed in the subject.

You had all of the tell-tale signs - mood swings, food cravings, headaches, bloating.

Whatever symptom you had, it pointed to it being your time of the month.

There was a conversation already going on amongst his brothers, but Satan ignored it in favor of asking you, “Are you on your period?”

Everyone froze in place at Satan’s question and your face burned a bright red as all of the attention was on you. Who just asks a personal question like that?!

Satan didn’t mean any disrespect. The way it was presented to him in the books was as a natural, common thing that all women go through. So he didn’t you would have any reason to be embarrassed about it.

And maybe if he had approached you about it on his own, things would have been different. But he just blurted the question out…in front of everyone…in the middle of dinner.

Before you could even respond, Mammon asked, “What’s a period?” And your cheeks felt even hotter as you began to slowly sink down in your chair, wishing you could disappear from this conversation.

“You don’t know?” Asmo asked with a glint in his eyes. Of course, the Avatar of Lust would know what a period is. Considering the amount of human women he had probably met you were sure he was as knowledgeable as Satan was about it.

But there was no way the fourth-born would allow his little brother to take his thunder. “Allow me to explain,” Satan stated.

And for the next few torturous minutes, you had to uncomfortably sit there as Satan explained what a period was in vivid detail.

You watched the brothers’ faces go through a whirlwind of reactions until they were all left sitting there speechless and somewhat bothered.

“Well?” Lucifer’s question broke the silence and you turned to face the eldest. He was making eye contact with you and he continued to ask, “Are you?”

“Is that why you look like you’re in pain?” Belphie asked. “Wait, do periods hurt?” Beel questioned in response.

“Do all female normies go through that?” Levi questioned, his cheeks threatening to burn as bright as yours at the question.

Your cramps weren’t backing down and you were feeling more than overwhelmed at the sudden bombardment and soon everything felt like it was too much.

“I think I’ll skip dinner tonight,” you stated plainly before abruptly getting up from the table and making your way to the bedroom.

The brothers watched you leave, confused and worried about you. Was it something they said? Or was it because you weren’t feeling well?

Lucifer was in a state of surprise when you left the dining room table.

He knew about periods, and he knew it was something female humans experienced.

But, it wasn’t something he had prepared for.

In all of the things that he had done and gathered to ensure you would have everything you need for your stay in the Devildom, that had somehow slipped his mind.

It took him a moment to gather his bearings before going to check on you.

He showed up to your room with a glass of water and medicine to help with your cramps.

He gave you a small smile when you gratefully took the medicine and allowed him in your room.

He looked a little lost, unsure of how exactly to help you. But, if you tell him what you need, he will move heaven and earth to make sure you get it.

You were his responsibility after all. He couldn’t disappoint Diavolo by allowing you to be in pain. And he couldn’t trust his brothers to do a good enough job.

Or maybe - just maybe - he wanted to be the one who took care of you.

Either way, he won’t leave your side for the rest of the night, and if you show any sign of discomfort, he’ll find a way to soothe you.

Mammon was still freaking out about all of the information he had obtained that night.

Periods sounded awful and he couldn’t believe that it was something that happened to female humans - every month.

Mammon was trying to process everything when you left the table and that’s when his mind went from his own train of thought to you.

From all of the facts he was told, one stood out more than the others - you were in pain.

And Mammon was supposed to protect you, so he couldn’t have that.

He excused himself from the dinner table as well before quickly doing a search on his D.D.D. to find out ways to help you.

About a half an hour later, Mammon showed up at your bedroom door, his arms full of miscellaneous objects.

He had everything he could think of - a heating pad, pain medicine, chocolate, and your favorite snacks.

He wasn’t sure what out of those items would help, but he hoped at least one of them would.

He also offered to stay in your room that night and watch a movie with you, which inevitably ended in you falling asleep in his arms, while he held you close.

Mammon is just happy that you felt safe enough with him to let him help you when you’re in this vulnerable stage.

It is a known fact that Levi panics in intense situations.

And you abruptly leaving the dinner table was something he would classify as an intense situation.

He didn't necessarily understand all of the intricacies of your period, but he did know that he wanted to help.

Levi didn't have any idea where to start, so he went to his default of bringing videogames and DVDs to your room.

You bit back a chuckle as you opened the door and saw Levi struggling to hold everything he brought.

You let him inside, grateful of the fact that he was trying and Levi quickly got to work setting up yours and his favorite game.

The fun that you were having with Levi was enough to distract you from the pain of your period cramps.

But that didn't stop him from checking in - quite often - and asking if you were alright.

Levi offered to get you food, something to drink, medicine - anything you would need.

And if you did ask him for something, he moved faster than you'd ever seen to get it back to you promptly.

He may not be an expert in what was going on with you, but he would do just as good of a job as any of the others when it came to comforting you.

As stated, Satan was an expert on everything to do with your period before you even got it.

He didn't need to search anything up or refer to his books.

He figured this would happen sooner rather than later and he was prepared for it.

Like Mammon, Satan gets everything you need. But, unlike Mammon, it’s all already prepared in an emergency kit that he’s kept in his room.

Satan grabbed the bag and went to your room in a matter of moments.

When you opened the door, Satan offered you a brief apology about the events that occurred at dinner. He felt guilty about putting you on the spot like that.

But, he offered to make it up to you by helping relieve your pain.

When you allowed him in, Satan was as strict as a doctor, almost in an overbearing way.

He gave you the medicine to take and instructed you to lay in a way that allowed for the ideal positioning of the heating pad.

And even if it wasn’t the way you wanted to lay, when the heating pad started working, you were thankful for Satan’s expertise.

He stayed with you for the rest of the night, sitting next to you and gently running his fingers through your hair as he read one of your favorite books to you.

It ends up being much more comforting than you would have expected from the Avatar of Wrath.

Asmo may not be like Satan or Lucifer in knowing all about a human period.

But he has had his fair share of experience with it.

And he’s a pro at rest and relaxation.

Asmo let you calm down in your room for a little bit while he set things up in own room. 

He was sure you were upset at all of them for bombarding you at dinner like that.

But, he was hoping that you would let him help you anyway.

When he was ready, he asked you to join him in his room, and after promising he wouldn’t try anything risque, you agreed to go.

When you got to his room, you were met with an overwhelming aroma of essential oils and the sound of soft music playing.

The lights were dimmed so that the room was bright enough to see, but dark enough to relax.

Under normal circumstances, you would have assumed that Asmo was trying to come on to you, but he had promised he just wanted to help.

He led you to his bed and asked for permission to give you a massage.

Being the Avatar of Lust, Asmo’s knows the human body very well, and he knew every technique and every spot that needed to relax, and you felt all of your tension release and your cramps subside.

Asmo had a small smile on his face as you slowly drifted off after feeling relaxed enough.

He would always be there to help pamper you whenever you needed it.

Beel was a bit confused when you left the table.

He didn’t really understand the gravity of the situation. 

And so, playing to his kind and innocent nature, Beel thought something was wrong with the dinner.

He quietly finished the food on his plate before disappearing from the House of Lamentation. 

When he came back, he went directly to your room with bags full of all of your favorite food. No one should skip dinner.

You had to keep yourself from laughing as Beel explained why he brought all of your favorite food and you invited him in to share the food with you.

Beel noticed the pained expression you flashed every so often and when you told him about your period cramps and how that was the reason you left dinner early, Beel wanted to do everything he could to help.

He immediately engulfed you into his arms, holding you tightly into him as his hands rubbed soothing circles onto your back.

You felt your pain slowly going away as Beel’s body warmth underneath you acted as a heating pad and his hands relieved any tension you were holding.

He might not know exactly how to help you, but he’s just as effective in soothing your cramps nonetheless.

Belphie's help almost always came with a witty remark or some teasing no matter who you were or what the situation was.

But, for this particular situation, Belphie tried to be on his best behavior.

From what he heard, this was a hard time for you and he was certain the wrong remark would set you off.

So, he played especially nice.

He came to your room and asked you if there was anything he could do to help.

When you let him in, he asked a few questions about your period and got you a few things.

But, if that doesn't help, Belphie will escalate things.

When most people think of the Avatar of Sloth, they only think about him sleeping a lot.

They don't often recognize the power he had over other people's sleep.

And if you continue to be in pain throughout the night, Belphie will reach a point where he believes sleep is the only way to help you.

And it will be the best sleep of your life, full of amazing dreams to keep any pain of your cramps far away from you.

Naturally, Belphie will spend the night in your room, cuddling you.

But it's just to make sure you get a restful sleep the whole night!

[emmcfrxst]

omg old man!logan with mom!reader and laura has me in TEARSSSSS i love them so much

he would never admit it because he's too proud but does get a little jealous when all your attention is on laura. it's nothing serious obv (who tf would be jealous of their child😭) but he is left with with a heightened sense of need for you and your touch. so when night time finally comes around, he's super happy to get you all to himself and just shower you with the love that laura showered you with during the day <33

(the concept of reader being both logan's and laura's favorite person to ever exist is so sweet aaahhhhh)

i’ve said this before i believe but something about laura really brings out logan’s inner child; he’s a lot more mischievous when she’s around, allowing himself to act like a kid and have fun— he’s provoking her on purpose (all in good fun, obviously! he wouldn’t say anything that could actually hurt her feelings, at least not once he’s gotten used to interacting with a child again, he’s accidentally hurt her feelings before by being a little too brash, but that was before he decided to make conscious efforts to let her in) and bickering with her any chance he gets, a grin on his face when she takes the bait and argues back (he’s not gonna lie, he’s pretty proud of just how vivacious she is, she does remind him of himself but he won’t admit that out loud) because he’s really never felt quite as youthful when he’s around her. they’re quite entertaining to watch honestly, because he absolutely will stick his tongue out back at her if she does it, and he will chase her around the house in playful anger if she insults him. he also likes to ruffle her hair when walking past her because she always lets out the most offended little yell, jumping on his back in retaliation and he walks around the house with her hanging off of him like a koala, despite the ache/discomfort the added weight brings him. he’s also the one who started using the nickname “monkey” for her, partly due to her most prized possession: a plushie you gave her (which i talked about here if you wanna read <3) and partly because she loves to climb pretty much everything she sees; including trees, doorframes, random furniture, fences and of course her daddy. anyways yes, since she brings out the youthful side of him he does allow himself to fight her for your attention, which quickly turns into a competition (honestly pretty much anything turns into a competition when it comes to these two, it’s kind of their love language) and logan isn’t afraid to play dirty despite the fact that laura is like 11— he will use his strength to untangle her from you, playfully throwing her on the couch away from you and grinning at her while wrapping his own arms around you, mouthing “my turn now” to her, making her look at him with the most offended expression ever seen on a human being. there’s never a boring moment with them, and you’re constantly showered in both attention and affection <3

[sugarushwriting]

vampire enhypen and you’re their human blood bank (part six!!???!)

jay isn’t happy with your decisions

neither is sunghoon

jake or heeseung

they became possessive over you and refuse to allow you to leave them

straight smut coming this chapter, forewarning. i will not warn anymore after the “keep reading” point. i am not the best at writing smut (jealous of those who can) so please be easy on me!!

next part (?) should not have heavy smut like this one or any at all. didn’t expect this many parts but hi, hello, here we are.

do not repost or translate. but please feel free to reblog, like, and comment! not proof read.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

your leg nervously bounced while you waited in class for the professor to begin. students began whispering wondering why this class was mandatory. the girls were whispering wondering where jay was.

where was he? he made it a whole ordeal that you come to class today and he’s not even here?

the entire class period went by boringly, but the professor did talk about important things. maybe he did need to talk about it to everyone, but no need for it to have been mandatory and worth so many points.

as he dismissed class 10 minutes early, he called you to the podium where he stood.

“yes professor kong?” you asked adjusting your backpack on your shoulder.

“mr park needs to see you in his office. he says it’s about your recent grade.”

you stood frozen, “um, i thought i did okay on that paper?”

“he did too, but he said he found some things and he’s worried about plagiarism?”

“that’s ridiculous! all that work came from me and i made sure to reference correctly.”

the professor shrugged, “i haven’t seen it myself, and i trust mr park.”

well you didn’t. “thank you professor kong.” you nodded politely and walked out the classroom, an immediate ding to your phone notifying you had a text.

jay: come to my office. im watching you. don’t try to hide and run.

you read the text and huffed in annoyance. you looked around for him, but of course, if he didn’t want to be found by you, he wouldn’t.

you made your way to his office in the business building, which was luckily the same building class was held. you took the elevator to the top floor, and made your way to the end of the hallway were his small but cozy office was.

your university gave teaching assistants either their own office or shared office depending on the amount of work they would be doing for the professor. plus teaching assistants were required to hold office hours for extra help for students with a minimum of 2 hours a week. whether it was in person office hours or through zoom.

you raised your fist to knock, but startled when you felt a hot breath on your neck. quickly turning around, you came face to face with jay. your back flat against his door.

he reached beside you, unlocking the door. “go in.”

it wasn’t a question or statement. it was a demand. his tone was hushed, but deep. you recognize his authority tone he usually used on the guys.

you quickly turned back around and walked into his office.

he locked the door behind him, hands in his pocket and made no effort to talk to you.

“professor said you had worries about my paper?” you asked.

jay was behind his desk now, and his brown eyes snapped up from the drawer he was rummaging through. “your paper is fine.”

“but—,”

jays sharp eyes made contact with you and you quickly hushed. his irises were red.

jay grabbed a roll of duct tape and made his way towards you. he ripped off a piece, and when you went to ask what he was doing, he quickly placed it over your lips. again, he said nothing, until you lifted your arms to take off the tape.

“take off that tape and i will turn your ass black and blue.”

his tone was threatening, and even though usually you’d push back, something told you not to this time. you put your hands to your sides, waiting for his next move.

he took your bag off of your shoulder, then next, he taped your hands together in front of you.

he threw the tape off to the side, it clattering to the floor. jay stood in front of you, straight eye contact, pushing your body subtly to his desk, until your butt rested against it.

you’ve never seen jay so quiet. it terrified you to be honest. but you also felt a thrill. is he showing you his dominate side you’ve been asking for? or maybe this is his fed up side with your behavior. you knew you were to be mad at him. and you still was, however, for good sex? you might put it aside just for now.

jay roughly pushed you down on his desk, and put your arms to rest above your head. “move your hands and arms, and you won’t be able to lift them for weeks.”

another threat. you swallowed. jay wasted no time lifting your sweatshirt above your bra, and removing your sweatpants off your legs. without warning, jay slapped your underwear covered pussy—hard. like someone would slap an ass.

you tried to scream, but of course your mouth was covered so it was muffled. jay smirked.

he removed your underwear, throwing them over his shoulder, and pulled your bra down to expose your breast. he took each in one hand, gripping hard, causing pain. another muffled scream.

jay wasn’t being his usual gentle self. and you were thinking this is more than his dominate side.

your arms jerked, and jay raised a brow, waiting for you to move it, but you didn’t.

“good girl.” he praised, and you rolled your head to the side. he clicked his tongue on the root of his mouth, “nope, eyes on me the entire time.”

your head rolled back to meet jays eyes. “good to know you do listen.”

you were surprised when jays fangs extended. your eyes going wide. his kissed your jawline, the tape where your lips would be, and one kiss to you neck. he peppered kisses down your chest before his mouth latched on to a nipple, and you could feel his fangs slightly break skin.

another muffle scream came. he did it to the other breast. then he kissed down your stomach, occasionally scraping his fangs against your skin. your stomach recoiled at the slight touch, because one you were ticklish, second because you were nervous he was going to break skin fully, not just a tease.

he kissed down your body, your left thigh, left leg, then made his way back up your right leg, to your right thigh, stopping just inches away from your core. you could feel his hot breath fanning, and you wiggled a bit. he didn’t move. you whined behind the tape, earning a chuckle from jay.

your eyes closed as you waited for the sensation of his tongue licking your core. you didn’t notice jay was taking his pants and boxers off, stroking his cock twice, aligning himself to your entrance.

he roughly, swiftly, and quickly bottomed out, cause a deep groan of pleasure from his mouth. a loud muffled scream of pain came from your mouth behind the tape.

fuck you wasn’t expecting him to just bottom out like that. usually jay takes his time with slowly entering you. he always makes sure you’re wet enough.

“what a shame, usually you’re dripping for me. this time you’re barely wet.”

if you could talk you would scold him and say it’s because he didn’t give you time! he didn’t prep you!

he knew that. he wanted to bring you pain. a tear slipped from your eye. he didn’t give you time to adjust to his thickness when he started ramming in and out of you, at an unhuman speed and strength, or at least something you weren’t used to. his hands and fingers tightly gripped your thighs to hold you in place. your body rocked against his desk, scared it was going to break.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as jay mumbled incoherently under his breath. you couldn’t hear what he was saying, nor did you care.

not until you realized your arms left the place they were supposed to be, and went to wrap around jays neck.

he quickly removed himself, you moaning low from the loss of him, and he lifted you off the desk by pulling you by your taped hands.

“what did i tell you?” he asked through gritted teeth. your eyes went wide and he flipped you on your stomach, the cold surface hitting your bare breasts and stomach. your arms back reaching over your head, gripping the edge of the desk.

jay quickly entered you from behind, this time gripping your ass so tight, you really were gonna be black and blue after this.

all you could do was let muffled sounds escape from the tape as he hammered from behind, landing slaps to your ass.

his cock was reaching into your cervix, and you didn’t know to scream of pain or pleasure. tears now flowing out of your eyes.

your orgasm began building, and with jays sloppy and low sounds leaving his mouth, you knew he was close too.

it didn’t take long for him to come inside you. but just as you were so close, he removed himself and watched his come drip out of you.

you whined. you whined and cried because you were so close to your orgasm and he stopped! that wasnt like jay. he always made sure you orgasmed first, if not, at least made sure you had a successful orgasm.

you banged your fists on his desk in frustration, as his come slowly dripped out of your cunt, down your legs.

you began crying fully, because you just couldn’t control your emotions. your legs bucking, your knees going week. jay emotionless put his boxers and pants back on, lifting you up by your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“not nice when someone won’t listen to you huh? when they ignore you. when they ignore what you want and your needs.” jay snickered and dropped you back on the desk.

jay went to the other side of his desk, grabbing scissors from his drawer. no further word, he cut the tape from your bound hands, and lifted your chin from the desk, removing the tape—not so gently—from your lips.

but you were too wore out to even complain. you can’t fathom how you were tired. 2 simple positions, but jay used his strength and energy on you. he probably could’ve went harder, faster, but that might’ve killed you.

you lifted yourself on your forearms to look at jay, who still had that lazy smirk on his face. you lifted yourself fully, and when you went to lift your bra, you had to use two hands, but lost balance and fell to the ground. while lying there you lifted your bra to cover yourself again, and pulled down your sweatshirt. you reached over to grab your underwear that was lying on the ground next to you.

“you’re seriously gonna get dressed while lying down?”

you had no energy to even speak. you grabbed your underwear, but couldn’t even bend to put them on your legs.

jay sighed in frustration and disbelief (how dare he, jerk!!) and came to assist you with getting dressed. “good to know you can’t fight back. you’re coming home with me.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

jay threw you onto a bed. you couldn’t even focus on who’s bed and room he brought you to. a small sound came from your throat. wasn’t even a full sentence. you said, “thirsty.”

jay nodded and left the bedroom. oh shit were you gonna die of thirst now? your limbs were still weak but you could slightly move. what the fuck happened?

footsteps could be heard and you saw sunghoon enter with a cup of what you’re assuming is water, hopefully.

sunghoon said nothing as he came closer to you, helping you sit up in the bed and brining the cup to your lips. he assisted you with drinking the water.

“thank you.” you finally said in a whisper.

“our baby doll can talk now.” he smiled and patted your head. he laid you back down on the bed. it must be his.

sunghoon hovered over you, straddling, as he took off his shirt with a smirk. “be prepared baby doll. you’re not gonna be able to move for a while once we’re done with you.”

his lips came down to yours, a rush kiss, as he swiftly took off your pants and underwear at once and lifted your sweatshirt to expose your belly.

you were so distracted by his tongue deep in your mouth, you didn’t feel or notice sunghoon taking off his own pants and boxers. it wasn’t until he rubbed his tip against your clit.

“ah,” you moaned out from the feeling. your body still not recovered from jays attack or lack of orgasm. was sunghoon not gonna prep you either? he loved to eat your cunt out, almost, almost, as much as jake.

this would also be your first time having sex with sunghoon.

your thoughts were answered when he entered into you, slightly slower than what jay did. sunghoon was longer than jay, but with slight less thickness to him.

your hands went to sunghoons shoulders to grip, and he bottomed out, a loud moan leaving his lips. “why have i never done this before?” he mumbled to himself. your walls gripping him snuggly. “baby doll you feel so good and right for me. for us.”

sunghoon found a pace rocking his hips against yours, you connecting your lips together to muffle the sounds. once he started to reach an orgasm, his paced picked up and so did the roughness of how he fucked you. he lifted his lips off of yours as his fangs extended and his teeth scraped your shoulder like a slight pinch and he buried his head in your shoulder.

“so so good, baby doll.” he moaned, using his hand to wrap one of your legs around his waist for a deeper and better angle.

your head tilted as far back as possible from the pleasure building in your stomach once again. “sunghoon, im close.” you groaned out, removing your hands from his shoulders to grab onto the headboard.

you felt sunghoon fill you up with his come, and you were worried he wouldn’t let you come, but he fucked his come deeper into you as you soon came as well with the loudest moan you’ve let slip past your lips.

maybe it was because of the first orgasm denial, so this one was so intense. it had your body shaking afterwards, specifically your legs and they went numb.

you were so tired, all you wanted to to was nap. not even caring as sunghoon pulled out, you closed your eyes.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

when you awoke, you were in a different bed, and heeseung was playing a game at his desk in front of you.

you tried to move your body but couldn’t. not because you were tied down, but because your body was so sore and worn out. the only thing you could do was let noises escape your mouth.

your whine caught heeseung’s attention from the game and he smiled seeing you awake. he turned off the game, coming to the bed beside you as you finally noticed him shirtless, only in pajama pants.

all you could do was stare. “baby, you’ve been sleep for hours. was starting to get worried i wouldn’t get my turn.” he pouted.

hours? you slept for hours? you turned your head to look out the window and saw dusk was falling. what time was it?

you mentally did math—okay so class ended around 11:40, you met jay at his office around 12. how long did that last? a hour? maybe longer? then what about sunghoon? how long did that go?

with the light, it had to be around 5 or 5:30 in the evening. “time?” you croaked out.

heeseung smiled. “it’s almost 5, baby.” he pulled you to the edge of the bed, so your feet hung off the edge, your butt close to it. “i’m glad jay and sunghoon didn’t go too hard. was worried you wouldn’t be able to take me or jake.”

wait, they all were going to fuck you? and what does he mean they didn’t go too hard? you could barely move or speak!

you tried to form words, but your mind turned to mush when heeseung got on his knees and lifted both of your legs so they were over his shoulder. “i can’t wait to finally taste you.” he whispered against your inner thigh.

that’s when you finally realized, you were only in an oversized shirt and some boxers. you didn’t know who dressed you in it. maybe sunghoon or maybe heeseung.

heeseung kissed your cunt through the boxers, his nose burying itself to inhale deeply. he pressed open mouth kisses all along both of your thighs, before his vampire fangs felt like a pinch to your thigh. you jerked, but heeseung held you in place. his teeth scraped against your inner thigh, a moan leaving your lips as you turned your head to the side, and ran your fingers through is hair.

he swiftly took the boxers off your legs and lifted the shirt up above your belly button. no warning, heeseungs tongue swiped between your folds, your legs tightening around his neck as he buried himself between your legs like he was home. he licked, sucked, bit, nibbled, all he could on your cunt, clit and in between.

“fuck you taste too good baby. no wonder jake and sunghoon love to be buried between your legs.” heeseung sighed in pleasure, as he continued his attack. meanwhile, your head was rocking side to side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, all while holding heeseung in place by your legs and your fist in his hair. the harder you gripped he would bite.

you were nearing your third orgasm of the day, but before you could let heeseung know you were close, he removed his delightful lips and tongue from your cunt, kissing up your stomach, lifting the shirt higher above your breasts, to your neck, still leaving open mouth kisses, licks, and occasionally nipping with his fangs.

you whine at the loss, heeseung smiling against your skin. his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss, you tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

his lips made their way back to your breasts, his lips wrapping around one nipple, you sensitive to the feeling. another moan left your mouth, but then a louder moan mixed with a yelp came next as without warning, heeseungs fingers entered your cunt.

not one. not two. but three of his long fingers, knuckle deep. your body jerked at the feeling, but it caused heeseung to bite your nipple, your cunt growing wetter every second, and even wetter than before due to the bite.

“so so wet for me.” heeseung smiled then did the same attack on your other breast and nipple. he was loving the loud sounds coming from your wet cunt.

now, one hand was in heeseungs hair, the other on his muscular back as his fingers rocked in and out at a fast and bruising pace. “mhm heeseung.” you moaned out in between taking deep breaths. even without his cock he was filling you up deliciously.

your walls clamped tighter on his fingers, so he kept the speed of his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his tongue licked and sucked your nipple harder, his fangs making another appearance with a pinch.

it sent you over the edge. you came hard. your juices soaked his fingers, leaking onto the edge of the bed, down your thighs, and down his stomach.

you let out the loudest moan you ever had, and your chest heaved up and down as you chased oxygen as you felt so breathless.

you weren’t done. you kept coming and coming for at least a full 2 minutes, your body weakening every second as heeseung continued moving his fingers to your orgasm.

it wasn’t until tears filled your eyes that heeseung removed his fingers and lifted his body off of yours as you shook. you couldn’t imagine taking his cock right now.

“you’ll get my cock another time, baby.” he whispered against your forehead, easing your mind for the time being.

your eyes began to close as exhaustion took over.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

different bed. you woke up in a different bed and next to a different body. your eyes slowly opened to the darkness both outside and in the room.

your heartbeat sped up to not knowing your surroundings. you felt familiar lips on your neck with a kiss and a familiar aussie accent, “you had us so worried baby.”

you swallowed, trying to find your voice. “sorry.” your voice cracked. “im so sorry.” you apologized. this was your punishment for ignoring them. they were letting you know, you were theirs.

“it’s okay baby. we know you won’t do it again.” jake sighed and began sucking on your neck.

you knew jake had a high sex drive. even before he became a damn vampire. you could only imagine how becoming a vampire upped it. usually when he feasted on you, he could stay for hours eating you out, giving you multiple orgasms in a short time period.

“jakey im tired.” you pouted hoping jake would give you a break.

“don’t worry baby, just lay there, jakey will do all the work.”

and he did. you laid flat on the bed like a damn mannequin. your mind couldn’t even focus on whatever jake was doing. you just remember the cold air hitting your naked skin, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, all over your body.

jake gripping your thighs so tight you were sure handprints would be left behind, along with his nails digging into your skin.

you moaned, whined, and cried. jake was enjoying it so much. he didn’t care if you couldn’t participate back. as long as his lips were somewhere on your body he was happy.

between your legs, your thighs, devouring your cunt. your breast, nibbling your breasts. your lips for sloppy kisses, spit mixing between your mouths.

he moved you onto your stomach so he could eat you out from behind. he positioned your body so your head was buried in the sheets, your hands by your side, your ass in the air.

jake feasted, slobber and spit running down your leg. or was it come? did you orgasm? you were so tired maybe you did and didn’t even know.

jake mumbled, “so wet baby. coming so much just from my tongue.”

your mouth was so dry.

jake landed a slap to your ass, you groaned in reaction, and jake smiled liking that you finally responded to stimuli.

next you felt long slender fingers enter your cunt from behind, this time you bit into the sheets. your cunt genuinely could not handle anything else.

jake pumped his fingers at an ungodly speed, or what felt like it, your screams muffled by the sheets of his bed. your hands found the strength to grip onto the sheets.

“come again for me baby. i know you want to.”

and you did. you don’t know what orgasm number this was. you don’t know how long you orgasmed for. you just know your body could not take anymore.

you cried, shaking your head. “no more jakey, please. i—i am so sorry.” you sniffled.

jake shushed you, rubbing your back trying to get you to take deep breaths through your sobs. “it’s okay baby, no more.” he kissed your back. you collapsed onto the bed.

jake got off the bed, and helped you sit up, bringing a cup to your lips. “drink some water baby.”

you did. he had to help you, get you to slowly drink as if you tried to drink to fast, it would miss your lips and dribble down your chin.

once done, he laid you back down, covering up your naked body.

you cried yourself to sleep being so worn out from your body being wrecked by 4 vampires.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[arcanarix]

The Helpless -- G. Suguru X Fem! Non Sorcerer Reader

Summary:

You, a passionate graduate student, encourage the priest Suguru Geto to appear as a guest lecturer to one of the classes you assist teaching. Little do you know, that small, seemingly unimportant decision changes the entire trajectory of your life.

Word Count: 13.2K

Warnings: Yandere, Yandere Getou Suguru, cunnilingus, a reader who can see curses, a reader who is a graduate student, hands free orgasm, dubious consent

AO3

It’s one thing to be a regular-degular everyday gal slaving away in academics.

It’s a whole other beast when you’re a regular-degular gal who, not only takes up an ungodly workload for your last Master’s semester, but you also decide to TA a few classes as well. But that’s not all! Did you mention you have other burdens you’re certain no one else in your world carries? Being able to…see things.

You’ve come to accept that seeing things is just as natural as breathing, at least, for someone like you. It’s why you’ve come to develop a sense of empathy for those unaware they’ve been afflicted, especially fellow students or the faculty around here. Or people you just pass by on your commute to class. There’s not much you can do, except give them some reassurance. There’s nothing more you can do, than to be a bit more lenient with students on their grades when their performance is has slipped. Whether from the things they’ve been afflicted by that only you can see, or for some other humane reason, like family problems, or personal problems.

You don’t remember when this curse of sight began. You’re not aware of anyone else in your family who struggles with this particular unique issue, either. While many take the old adage “fighting your inner demons” as just that, a figure of speech, you’ve come to learn that it’s a quite literal thing.

Humans manifest their own troubles.

It’s an early day for you. 7AM you’re lecturing one of your previous courses, Philosophy and Contemporary Thought. It’s nothing new for you, but it will be new to this new set of students, and you hope you shed some light on the topic in today’s lecture to these bright minds. It’s what you live to do now. You’re certain after you graduate that you’ll pursue a PHD in Philosophy.

While you still have another hour until the lecture begins, you have been writing on the whiteboard a high-level overview of the topic. Absurdism, Nihilism, and Existentialism. All fantastic topics in their own rights, and you might have a little too much passion when discussing them to the professor which typically lectures this class. In fact, at one point, you even bring up the idea of bringing in some guest lecturers, which the professor is delighted to do for you.

When you bring up who you want as the next guest lecturer, the professor is understandably a little uncertain given the organization’s ambiguous reputation. You suggest the leader of the Star Religious Group, Suguru Geto, a priest infamous for preaching about the current state of society to his followers and devotees. You think it might be an eye-opening experience for young minds. Not that you agree with a lot of his ideologies, but it is always good to go in with an open mind. Even if such ideologies might seem completely out there.

What’s more shocking to you is a new e-mail notification which is from the devil you know, Suguru Geto, you see when you toss your head over your shoulder in the middle of writing another bullet point on the board; the marker squeaking against it from the force. You dash back to your desk and podium, scanning the reply’s contents. Your eyes light up with delight! He’s pleased with the invitation and is happy to engage young minds, just as you are!

You crack your knuckles and draft a reply before hitting send. You then glance at the clock which reads 7:45AM. You have 15 more minutes to prepare the class and also make such a delightful announcement!

His reply is as quick as yours. Your eyes widen in shock from the last line.

‘Would it be bold of me to request to discuss this over some coffee or dinner? I’d like to meet you sometime before the day I’m scheduled to lecture.

Best Wishes,

Suguru Geto’

He doesn’t have to ask you twice! You grin as your hands spring back to life drafting another reply. All you can say is yes, yes, yes! If that means the possibility of more opportunities for exposure to other ideologies, then what’s the issue? You don’t see any!

Your pinky hits enter when you shoot the response back. And just in time, some of your students pour into the large seminar room. You don’t ignore the little curses latched onto some of them, ignoring the twinge of sympathy in your chest. You can deal with that later, however you can. You just know to remember the names attached to those faces when you go to grade their assignments.

They don’t need added stress. While you aren’t sure what to do with the curse of sight, it at least makes it easier for you to be kind.

And sometimes, that’s the hardest thing to be in a world like this. Where humans are the cause of their own suffering.

“Good morning,” you greet with a little pep in your voice, hoping to wake up those dreary faces. Yes, it’s early. Yes, there’s probably a million things these students would rather be doing than attend an 8AM 90-minute lecture. But these young minds are troopers for showing up, anyway; you always remind them it’s easier to do nothing.

Some students who have entered the class acknowledge you with a nod or a strained smile. Some of them with the curses latching onto them. They seem so tired. Only you can see that but to everyone else, they seem normal.

More of your students begin to pour into the grand lecture hall, and you grin. 5 more minutes.

“Take a glance and what’s on the board, and let me just turn on the big screens…” you trail off as you do just as you promise. The two huge overhead screens project your computer screen with the PowerPoint you prepared at the ready. “…I’m lecturing today in place of the professor who is away for the week.”

You do hear some students murmuring amongst themselves before the clock strikes 8AM, thus having you begin. The murmurs quiet down as you gesture for the students to direct their focus on you as you begin rambling away on some of your favorite topics ever.

And perhaps the greatest gift of all for you, is the fact that they still seem engaged in spite of their exhaustion. You have to give yourself a pat on the back for that one. It means you’re doing something right!

After the lecture ends, you return to your dorm and pull up your email for any other responses from Geto. To your delight, he has responded with more of his contact information. Instead of his professional phone number, he provides his personal. It’s still a bright beautiful day for you to conquer but you have some evening lectures to attend. You take advantage of the time to catch up on your own assignments and grading work from other classes you TA.

You do seem a bit desperate, but hey! It’s all for the sake of education, after all!

Dialing the number, you wait. You hear the other line click.

“Yes?” comes a smooth voice over the line. You exhale, calming your nerves the best you can in that moment. You can’t help it! All of this anticipation is killing you, but in a good way and not the undesirable way.

“Hello,” you begin, still a bit nervous (and, duh, excited) at the prospect of meeting such a famed priest. Even if he is a nutjob, that somehow makes him even more fascinating. “Am I speaking with Suguru Geto?”

“Yes. Are you the TA at Tokyo University, that I’ve spoken to just a bit ago?”

You answer with a bit too much enthusiasm in your voice. “Yes, that’s me! Thank you for your time with my students. I’m sure they’ll love to hear your perspective in class.”

“Of course,” he replies in a low murmur. “I am more than happy to provide my insights for the sake of furthering education. So, I’m set to lecture next week? Would you like to grab some dinner before then?”

“I’d love to,” you breathe, your heartrate increasing by the passing second. Why are you acting like this? You’re acting like a shriveling schoolgirl trying to impress your senpai! This can’t be real. “What days are you free?”

“I can free up my schedule, but yours is far more rigid than mine, I expect. So what day works best for you?”

“Hm…how does Sunday evening sound?” That’s the only day you’re ever truly free. It’s usually the day you use to reset your week, but you can get all of that out of the way before the evening, anyway! It’ll be a nice way to cap it all off.

“Excellent. I’ll give you the details to this restaurant my family likes to go to. I’ll come pick you up that day.”

Oh, you can feel the excitement seeping into your bones and searing them like acid. You can’t help it—anything that expands your knowledge, anything that gets your gears moving in that huge noggin’ of yours? That’s worth being excited about, for sure!

Though you have to admit, it feels a little too easy. You doubt he wants to discuss anything beyond the lectures and what kind of tidbits to feed to students, You don’t claim yourself to be a mind-reader, either, but judging from the tone of his voice…he seems just as eager as you to meet. Unless you’re just playing on some wishful thinking, because you’re just that damn naïve sometimes and you can’t help but let your imagination run a little wild.

You don’t realize you’ve not responded until you hear Geto clearing his throat over the line.

“Miss?” you hear him inquire, concern laden in his tone. You flush a bit, embarrassed by how long you kept him in this call when he has his own agenda to follow after this. You shouldn’t waste his time any more than you already have.

“Sorry, got lost in thought for a moment,” you chuckle, as your eyes roll upward. “Yes, that sounds perfect. I can’t wait to meet with you.”

A long, reflective silence stretches over the two of you, and then:

“And I, you. Until then.”

Click.

Oh, the anticipation! And it’s already Friday, so you have to make sure you give your best foot forward and the greatest first impression. After all, you don’t want someone like him to think that you neglect yourself in favor of furthering your students’ education? Even if in some cases that might be admirable, you don’t want to seem like you don’t take care of yourself.

Especially since you’ve caught wind of quite a bit of gossip around Suguru Geto. That he’s the handsomest devil people have ever seen, and that people join his organization for the sole reason that he’s beautiful eye candy. You wonder how that’s going to turn out for you. You can’t help it; you get as excited over men as you do over education, and you’re not exempt from desiring some kind of connection. You’re only human in the end.

It's simply human nature to desire connectedness. Heh. It’s part of why humans strive to join communities, who share similar values, mindsets…isn’t that why he’s lead Star Religious Group over the years? Isn’t that why you decided to pursue a degree on Philosophy, to seek an understanding on the human condition?

“Great, now I have to figure out what to wear…” you muse out loud as your gaze flits to your tiny ass closet. With hardly anything too fancy because you strive for comfort sitting through long, long, looooong lectures and instructing them. Nobody cares about fashion sense in higher education, anyway, at least on schoolgrounds.

You almost wish you’ve packed some nicer things for occasions such as these, though. It’s important to make a great first impression.

The dorms at Tokyo University aren’t the most pleasant. They’re all cramped up and feel isolating, even—more like especially—the single dorms. You’re lucky enough to nab one yourself. All you’re provided is a closet, a bathroom that connects to the neighbor’s, and a small bed. And a desk. Just standard, cramped up, uncomfy at best. Even if you give it a touch that shows off your sparkling personality, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s…just small.

Not in a cozy way. So far from a cozy way.

“What to wear, what to wear…” you muse out loud again, sliding open your bamboo closet to reveal…a very dull set of capsule clothes. You wish you didn’t listen to those influencers online, because how the hell are you going to style any of these basic, boring clothes? And why are you deciding upon this two nights before meeting with Geto? Oh, right. You’re hoping to get his attention somehow.

Because you’re a lonely piece of shit.

You don’t even know what he’s like. Not really. You have seen some pictures, and the rumors hold true: he’s jaw-droppingly handsome. Like, holy hell, you want to take his pants off right then and there and show him a good time on the fucking spot type of handsome. Those long thick luscious locks of black hair cascading down his back. Those striking, intense violet eyes that remind you of amethysts.

And that jawline. Oh, that fucking jawline. A sharp jawline that’s so, so damn rideable too.

Everything you want in a man, and he’s a damn lunatic and you know it.

Maybe you’re a little too into it.

“Ugh! Are you serious?” You sift through your tiny capsule wardrobe and also find that it’s completely void of any color. No pop of color to spice up a dull wardrobe…does this mean you have to go shopping? Do you even have the funds for that right now? A satin black blouse with faux pearl buttons catches your eye and you hum as you consider how to style it. It’s not the fanciest getup, but it’ll do.

“Now I have to settle on a makeup look and hair…ugh! And the right perfume? Did I even pack any with me this term!?” You practically tug and pull at your hair as you rack your mind for ideas; you don’t have the greatest sense of style, but you can always seek some trusted sources for ideas. You kind of wish you had time to make more girl friends during your time as a graduate here. You need second opinions, and you have access to none.

Curse you for being more of a loner! Curse you!

This might be something you have to settle until after your evening lectures…

Sunday night approaches sooner than you expect. Geto sets the time for 6PM on the dot and you expect to meet him at the back of your dormitory. The sun has dipped over the horizon, leaving behind a sky in hues of soft pinks, lavender, and indigo, dusted with bright stars. Tonight’s a waning crescent moon.

The parking lot is barely full, with other students likely out and about and enjoying their weekend. You should have enjoyed it a little more, too, but your schedule left almost no room for such luxuries.

You unlock your phone to check the clock a few times, but it’s only a few minutes until he arrives. You sigh as a gust of wind rushes through your hair, and you don’t bother to try to adjust it. You’ve given up on making a good first impression because you can’t seem to make anything work out. You hope you look presentable, at the very least. Like a dignified, distinguished woman—the way you should be.

Who can’t seem to wait much longer because you sooooo hate to be left waiting! You’re huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf to yourself. It’s not even like he’s stalling because you’re the one who decided to wait outside! Out here, in the crisp and chilly evening autumn air. You want to take a moment to appreciate the array of colors on the leaves of the trees lining the parking lot but you are far too eager to meet someone interesting.

Finally, a dark, smaller limousine pulls in front of you. You’re stunned. You know the guy must be loaded, but you don’t expect something so fancy like this for some reason. The driver steps out and opens one of the back doors for you, and you offer her a smile. The lady with the pretty, wavy pink hair only huffs in response, which has you perking an eyebrow at the animosity (eh, women can be catty with each other for sure, but you aren’t interested in engaging in that sort of behavior, and never will be interested in such) and you slide into the vehicle. There, on the opposite seat, is the man of the hour. Suguru Geto.

The pink haired lady shuts the door after you enter, and you adjust your skirt a bit because suddenly you’re too aware of how high it hikes up your legs when you sit. You feel a little exposed, without meaning to. You probably have forgotten how to dress like you’re 22 and cute, ready to mingle and to party like it’s 1999.

You don’t remember what that’s like, actually. You idly wonder if you’ve forgotten how to be a girl, sprucing herself up for a potential suitor. Getting swept off of her feet, getting asked out on dates…when’s the last time that’s even happened to you?

You are about to part your lips to speak, but then you notice something floating overhead. Your eyes widen in panic, before glancing at Suguru, who seems composed and collected with a little grin playing on his lips, complementing the rest of his handsome features.

Gosh, is it illegal to be that ethereal? It should actually be a crime.

“It’s nice to meet you officially,” Geto begins in that smooth voice of his, like a jazz singer between speaking parts of their piece. Your heart flutters at the sight of him and you reprimand yourself in your mind.

Get a grip! You think. This is just for business! He addresses your name, and you confirm he’s pronouncing it correctly.

But something else catches your attention, a chill dancing down your spine.

You don’t ignore the disgusting, grotesque, hairy, indigo worm-like creature hovering just above Geto. Its eyes look like narrow slits, and it has a tiny mouth. It’s an overgrown, nasty ass caterpillar to you. You try not to grimace when you see little bits of drool dribbling out of its tiny mouth. You try your best not to make it seem obvious that you see it.

Is he aware of its presence? Does he know about…seeing things? Much like you?

But unfortunately for you, he seems to catch onto your shift in demeanor, quirking an eyebrow. He gestures to the grotesque creature, making your hairs stand on end. “I take it you can see my little friend here.”

“I…yes,” you swallow, eyes glancing down at your lap while you fiddle with the fabric of your skirt.

A stretch of silence falls between you two, and those sharp violet eyes of his are assessing you. As if trying to understand your dilemma…not like he’s much different in that regard here, but you’re about to find out how wrong you are about that soon enough.

“From what I gather, you don’t appear to know how to get rid of them. Have you only been able to see them?”

You nod grimly, digging your fingers into your skirt. “Yes, all my life. For as long as I can remember.”

“I see,” he replies, “It’s quite a burden to take on, isn’t it? Able to see the evil humans create, but unable to stop it.”

“…Yes,” you admit, chewing on your bottom lip. So just what is he getting at? “I’ve always been…sensitive to these things, I guess. I can’t tell you exactly when it all started. I think sometime after my grandfather passed away as a child.”

Geto hums in acknowledgement. “Often, the only time someone without the innate ability to sense curses see them at a time of tragedy, or even before their own deaths.”

He adjusts his shirt. He’s not wearing his priest garb; instead wearing a casual deep navy top and dark wash pants. You notice he paints his nails to match.

You find yourself swallowing. Why do you find that so damn attractive?

“There is a way for you to rid the world of these curses,” he says, tone calm, even. Soothing on your nerves…has he ever considered hosting a podcast? He has a voice you can listen to all day, just for the comfort. “I can help you in that regard, but of course, that’s not why we’re here tonight, isn’t it? I look forward to next week with you.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” you reply, voice meek, a flush creeping onto your features. “I-I’d like to know what more I can do about this curse of mine. The sight, I mean. Um, I hope I don’t sound rude, but does it always…hang around you like that?”

“Not always,” he chuckles, waving his hand and in a split second, the spirit above him vanishes. “That was just a test. I’ve been watching your lectures since your professor reached out to me, just to get an idea of what to expect from you.”

“How did you know I could see them through the lectures posted online?” you tilt your head, curiosity piqued. It’s not often that students are asked to come up to the class to demonstrate knowledge, but perhaps there’s been some instances where you acknowledge the presence of a curse in the classroom that goes unnoticed by the standard human eye. You have no choice but to elect to ignore the presence in the middle of class, but sometimes you can’t hide your own reactions, perhaps. He must have caught on one way or another.

“I’m sure you can put two and two together,” he answers with that smug little grin still on his face, but you can tell in spite of that, he’s being a bit playful with you. You shake your head, grinning in spite of the anxiety spiking in your mind.

“Of course,” you say with a smile tugging at your glossy lips, as a laugh escapes your lips in uneven breaths. Your eyes flit around the secluded area of the limo, as if unsure how to proceed from here. You twist the edge of the sleeves of your blouse.

What are you supposed to do with this information then? A sheen of sweat glistens on your face, and you hope your setting spray is doing the trick to hold that soft glam look you worked so hard to make perfect for the night.

It’s supposed to be freakin’ sweat and transfer proof… you think in your mind, your lips twitching ever so slightly. God, you try so hard and where does It get you?

“Is something on your mind?” Geto’s voice snags your attention back to the immediate reality. Oh, right. You’re supposed to be discussing work stuff. What you want him to bring up in his guest lecture. And if he wants to make that a regular thing for the students this term.

“Sorry,” you reply in a wistful tone, fiddling with a stray strand of hair. “It’s been a while since I went out like this, I guess. Been all work and no play, and this still involves work!”

A gasp slips from your lips as he takes your hands in his, and you admire how soft his skin feels against yours. When you meet his eyes, they’re not hardened but soft, glittering like the gemstones those violet eyes resemble.

“It doesn’t have to be.” He runs the pads of his fingers across your knuckles in a soothing gesture. You feel your guard melt away. He seems like such a kind person in spite of the sort of things he preaches to his followers or devotees. You have done a little digging on him too for the purpose of your studies. The man before you doesn’t seem like someone who holds so much disdain for the current state of society. Even if you do agree with some of his views to a certain degree, a lot of his ideals do seem a bit…impractical.

But then again, most religious priests do believe in many impractical things. You’re beginning to understand the origins, considering the things you’re able to see that the standard human eye cannot. Most of these spirits are manifested from humans’ negative emotions. If only humans can understand how to control and harness that.

Unfortunately, it’s not like people can turn their emotions off unless they’re robots.

You can feel the flush on your face deepen and the sweat dampening your face a bit. You dig into your purse for a wipe to dab some of that off. You are definitely leaving a scathing review on that setting spray falsely advertising its benefits. Geto doesn’t make any comments. He doesn’t seem all that concerned, even. He can tell you’re a bit unnerved and is being kind and patient with you.

It’s a kind enough gesture from him.

You arrive at the restaurant and rather than the driver, it’s Geto who escorts you out like a gentleman, hooking his arm around yours. Though you can’t see through the driver’s tinted window, you just know that the driver’s probably seething at you from the display of affection and you’ve only just met the man. Are you going to get lucky with him? Maybe not on the first date, but he does seem interested in you for other reasons than just business.

Geto definitely does look far more godly in person than in pictures—which already make him look like an ethereal being, blessed by the Heavens. You can’t believe this is even happening.

Maybe it’s been a while since he’s encountered someone else with the curse of the sight, too. Maybe he finds some comfort in knowing someone like you is out there.

You feel the same way about him. You both share that curse, of the sight of these spirits, but at least he can do something about it. And he can help you do something about it.

As you’re escorted to your table—a more secluded corner of the restaurant, which has you quirk an eyebrow, but you figure it’s to discuss the elephant in the room—you’re handed your menus and left to ponder your orders. As you open yours, he speaks up again, and your eyes glance up from your menu as you’re drinking in the sight of those delicious udon noodles that you’ve been craving for some time now.

“So your class,” he starts, taking a sip out of his iced water. “Tell me about it. What else should I expect and what would you like me to expand upon?”

“Well, that all depends on you. Since you’ve kept up with the recent lectures, I’d guess you know we’re covering the topics of nihilism, existentialism, and absurdism. I’m sure you have plenty of valuable insight about that. You can tie that into your work as well. Of course, minus the seeing things part,” you answer with a nervous chuckle. “The guest lecture is just a fun bonus for students. They get bonus points to their final grade if they attend as well as an incentive. It’s something to keep them engaged and interested in the material they’re absorbing.”

He nods along as you speak, resting his glass back on the table as his eyes scan the menu below him. “Ah. So I have free reign, then?”

“Don’t speak about the…obvious stuff between us; I don’t need to tell you that,” you respond, voice wavering. “I’d guess as long as it ties into the topics we’ve discussed in past lectures, it’s fair game. I’m sure they’d love to hear insights on what you do at Star Religious Group as well.”

“I see,” he expresses. Soon enough the waitress returns requesting your orders before taking the menus. After she leaves, he continues: “So what had you interested in me, specifically? I can’t help but be curious.”

“Oh. Well,” you trail off, racking your mind over what to say. You obviously can’t tell him it’s for more personal reasons. Though you have reason to believe that he already has picked up on that part. You can at least try to sound honest and not like you’re desperate for some action in your life? What makes you think you even have a chance with this guy, anyway? Pure, unadulterated delusion? Perhaps! You dare to meet his eyes as you try to muster up some kind of coherent answer. “Honestly, it’s just good for the students to get exposure to other ideologies. It’s all part of expanding their horizons and teaching them to keep an open mind. The whole purpose of attending university is to enrich the mind. Plus, you are a famed figure here. It just seems…you know, natural.”

He stares at you, brows furrowing as he takes in what you said. He seems…almost flattered by the answer you’ve given him. Even if you pull a lot of it right out of your bum, you’re pleased with the fact that you can save yourself from some level of humiliation in that moment.

Before he reacts, your orders are set on the table. Once again, he waits for the waitress to leave.

“Well, I’m happy to be there whenever you so desire,” he finally tells you as he pried his chopsticks apart. You join him in indulging in a meal. “Tonight is on me, by the way.”

“Oh, pish posh,” you quip with a dismissive wave of your free hand, grinning wide. “Let me handle the check this time. It’s the least I can do, since you’re taking time out of your busy schedule for this.”

A genuine smile tugs at his lips from that. It makes you perk up a bit; he does seem so guarded around you—or is he just like that in general?—for some reason.

“Such generosity is rare these days,” he comments, “I can’t remember the last time I encountered a character so authentic like yours.”

“Eh, I’m not all that,” you retort with an amused huff while taking a huge heaping of udon. You ignore some of the broth hitting your chin as you talk through chewing. “It’s a natural way to act, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head, chuckling as he seems amused by your erratic antics. Even his beautiful violet eyes are twinkling because he seems like he’s enjoying himself.

A win is a win! You find yourself beaming, heart swelling with pride. Does this mean you have a shot?

“I beg to differ,” he quips, “It’s…rare these days, to find such authenticity in humans.”

Well, you think, he’s not exactly wrong there…

Things grow quiet for a moment as you’re slurping up your udon, and in the middle of another particularly long thick noodle, you catch him staring at you. Tilting your head, you finish your bite and gesture to him.

“What’s up?” you question with a confused puppy expression.

“Nothing,” he declares easily, helping himself to another roll of sushi. “You remind me of someone, is all.”

You almost want him to elaborate on that observation, but then ultimately decide against it. It’s not all that important to you right then. For the rest of dinner, the two of you begin to discuss more mundane topics until you’re done. You follow through on your promise in taking care of the check, which he graciously thanks you for (and you of course brush off because why? It’s not a big deal to you). He escorts you back to the limo and helps you back inside.

The ride back to your dorm is pleasant. You two continue to talk about things that interest you both, whether about the future lectures or about the curse of sight. It’s something to discuss later, but you do appreciate when he tells you he’s happy to help you where he can.

“Would it be inappropriate of me to ask you if I could walk you back to your dorm?” he inquires, “Just to make sure. As you know, schools are breeding grounds for curses. Manifested from stress, anxiety, fear…”

“I’ll be alright,” you promise, “I haven’t encountered too many issues since I stayed here. I’ll be sure to give you a call if I do need anything.”

“I’d like that very much,” he states, but then stops you before you begin walking away, grasping your elbow, his touch gentle. “I meant to ask you before, but time slipped past me. Are you aware of the existence of sorcerers?”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your forehead.

 “Sorcerers?”  you echo. He nods.

“It’s what I am,” he explains further, but it clearly doesn’t make things simpler for you. “I’m granted abilities where I can exorcise those spirits from humans. It’s part of why I took over that organization. As much as I’d like to explain further, I’m sure you’re pressed for time as well. This is something to discuss over a coffee date, if you’re so inclined to meet more with me beyond business?”

Your heart skips a beat at the idea. You nod.

“Yes,” you concede, practically breathless. “I’d really like that.”

He smiles, releasing your arm and almost appearing bashful from the proximity. “I’ll wait for you to enter your dormitory before I head off. You have a good night.”

You match his smile. “You too.”

You twist on your heel and can still feel his intense gaze on your back as you enter the building. You don’t turn back, but you can still feel his stare. You don’t sense any malice. More curiosity concerning you.

You are curious about him, too.

On the day of Geto’s guest lecture, there’s a lot of excited chattering amongst your students, with beaming smiles and wide doe eyes as they glance down at the enigma of the man at the front of the room. Many people are aware of his reputation—however they receive his perspectives. You see many of your female students snapping a few photos of Geto, with your male students shooting envious glares at him, which has you shaking your head to yourself as you pull up Geto’s presentation he’s set up for the class. Of course you’re no stranger to the fact that he’s popular to the ladies, because you’re not immune to his objective good looks, either.

This is surely to get your students interested in the material.

Before the class begins, Geto pulls you aside for a moment.

“Were you able to take a look at the presentation before today?” he asks, “I did my best to adhere to what you asked of me.”

You give him a nod. “Everything looks perfect and ties in well with the course material. I really appreciate all your effort, Geto.”

“Suguru,” he interjects, “No need to be formal with me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You like to think so. You give him a reassuring grin.

“Go ahead,” you push as your grin widens. “All those curious eyes are on you now.”

The lecture, as you expect because you don’t expect anything less, is a whopping success. You have never seen your students more involved before. Maybe Geto’s good looks help in that regard, but you hope to yourself that they actually pay attention to the things he’s said about his own ideologies in correspondence to the course material discussed. Even your typical troublemaking students are engaged, with their mouths agape and their notebooks open as they scribble furiously down on their papers.

Geto carries his words with authority like he always does; it captures the attention of everyone in the room.

“Society often asks the strong and fortunate ones to protect what is weak, but at what cost?”

You watch as his eyes scan through the room, inviting his students to challenge the ideology. “There is a natural order to the universe, and disruption of that order comes at a greater price than humanity is willing to accept or acknowledge. Why protect those incapable of willing to contribute? It risks stagnation. It risks evolution. Not to go back to the roots of Darwinism and the survival of the fittest, but strength and progress are ultimately what drive the world forward.”

A few of your students exchange confused glances, unsure of how to react, but their curiosity still keeps them engaged. Many other students are sitting with their mouths agape, pencils still poised above their notebooks. There are others nodding along, but maybe not necessarily in agreement with Geto’s ideals.

Geto proceeds, his words woven into the course material as you wish for him to, in ways that challenge the status quo.

“Let’s consider the history of human advancement,” he goes on, as he changes the slides on the projector with the device you’ve given him. “We see how often significant change has been driven by only the strongest and most adept of minds. Society romanticizes the idea of protecting the weak, but in doing so, we are forsaking the future for the sake of the present—for the sake of preventing the inevitable. True progress demands necessary sacrifice.”

What a nutjob, you sigh, but you keep an eye on your students, who are as open minded as they come if they’re taking a philosophy class. They’re enthralled by him, by the way he connects these broader concepts with the subjects they’ve covered in this class and classes similar. While they don’t agree with his worldviews (and frankly, neither do you), it still has their gears shifting in their minds. They’re engaged. They’re eager to enrich themselves. That’s the ultimate goal for you.

By the time the lecture concludes, you see even the usual skeptics in your class are caught off-guard, mesmerized by his words, their pens still furiously scribbling across the page after Geto completes his presentation. You are in absolute awe of this man. You don’t know how you can repay him for such an intense lecture.

You do treat him to coffee and pastries at a café on campus, thanking him profusely for everything and you do hope that he continues to come back for the rest of the semester.

That’s definitely one of the better lectures you’ve seen since you’ve begun pursuing higher education.

He takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he settles back into his chair, relaxed as if he’s conquered the world today. Which he may as well have in your eyes.

“I’m glad I was able to make a lasting impression on them,” he boasts, “Are they normally this intrigued by the material?”

You shake your head at that.

“Oh, not to such a degree like today,” you respond earnestly. “I was impressed. The professor seemed very pleased as well, so he’s definitely hoping you come by more often.”

His eyes flicker with something unreadable before he leans forward, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper.

“I did notice many of your students haunted by spirits,” he confesses, “I can do something about it, you know.”

“That would be great. It’d give you more of a reason to frequent the university,” you reply, “You said you can teach me how to get rid of the problem?”

“I can,” he assures you with a hum. “I’m more than happy to demonstrate one day.”

“How soon can that be for you?” you ask a little too eagerly. “If I can do the things you can do…even a little bit, I want to be able to help people in a way that I can too.”

He smiles at that, his face brightened as he does, and your heart does backflips.

“You truly are a good person,” he remarks, his tone almost reverent.

You glance away, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Receiving compliments have always made you feel awkward, and coming from someone like him, who seems so genuine, so sincere…it’s both off-putting yet flattering to you. You shrug the compliments off with a noncommittal hum, sipping your latte as a form of distraction. “Eh. That’s up for debate.”

“No, believe me, I mean what I say,” he insists, his gaze unyielding. “It’s…great to meet someone like you.”

You freeze in place. Damn, this guy…is he trying to kill you with kindness, or something? It’s definitely working because you swear you lost all the feeling in your legs; your body threatening to turn to mush.

“So,” your voice peters out as you try to continue the conversation before it lulls into another awkward stretch of silence. “Why don’t we meet more often this week about the exorcisms?”

“Sure,” he replies, “Do you know where my temple is?”

“No,” you tell him. He hands you his business card with the address on it.

“You can come there tonight, if you wish,” he utters, adjusting his collar as a slow, teasing smile graces his features. “Or, you know. Whenever you have some free time to learn more about what it is I do behind closed doors. Obviously, this kind of thing isn’t known to the public. As you might have guessed, the religious group is a bit more of a…coverup.”

You nod. “I’m honesty not surprised that this kind of thing is legit.”

“Of course you’re not,” he retaliates, his features darkening which nearly has you jump in your seat from the sudden shift in his demeanor. “You’re not blind like the rest. You see what lurks between our worlds.”

An eyebrow raises at the way he phrases that statement. Maybe it’s his nutjob side of him coming out, which you’re willing to ignore. You obviously don’t think he’s a nutjob for being able to see things like you can, and to rid the world of the issue. No, no, in fact, you see him as a saint for carrying such a burden. Even if it’s not one he’s wanted, maybe. More than likely, actually.

You just find some of his preachings to be impractical, is all. But like you have said before, many priests preach impractical things. It’s ultimately what appeals to the masses, isn’t it?

“Well,” you start, as you get up to leave. You have some more classes to attend yourself before you can think about anything to do with spirits. “Thanks for today, Suguru. It’s really been an eye-opening experience for my students. I know!”

“Of course,” he replies smoothly, getting out of his seat as well and pushing his chair under the table. “Thank you for treating me to coffee. Next time, you must allow me to get the bill. I can’t imagine this is easy on your finances as a student yourself.”

“Aw, fine,” you reply with a huff—your stubbornness is more playful than anything else, meant to lighten the mood a bit because you crack under too much tension.

“Next time.”

You’re definitely lying through your teeth. You know you won’t; he probably knows you won’t.

“And next time,” he goes on to say, without skipping a beat. “I’d like it to be a proper date.”

You almost drop the nearly empty cup of coffee in your hands from that statement, which encourages a hearty laugh out of Geto. Your blush deepens, and you place your hands on your hips, indignant, but he doesn’t stop laughing so you can’t help but join him and laugh at your own ridiculous antics. His laughter seems so pure, untouched. Raw.

It knocks the wind out of you, you find yourself admitting. You have never seen a more beautiful man in your life.

A part of you wonders the last time he’s ever felt so alight and carefree like this.

Later that week, you find your schedule easing up so you decide to make a quick detour to the temple. You give him a heads up that Friday evening, and he gets a ride ready for you at the same time you met before. He must be a creature of habit, or he just doesn’t want you to feel scattered. Either way, you’re looking forward to this demonstration he has for you. Maybe you might meet a client in need that night. As you’re picked up and driven there, by that same, snarky driver as last time, you can’t help but let the anticipation kill you inside a little. You do bring some of your supplies with you tonight, since time waits for no one and you have piles upon piles of assignments to grade, regardless of what happens tonight. You doubt Suguru will mind.

When you arrive, you’re greeted by the Star Religious Group’s temple which screams opulence the moment you step out of the limousine. Your mouth is slightly agape, taking in the sight. The building stands tall, grand, majestic. The religious group’s crest is on the center of the double doors which you enter after the driver, who is escorting you to Suguru’s exorcism room. The halls seem to stretch for miles, but you aren’t allowed time to explore as the pink-haired snooty driver shoves you into the room where Suguru waits, expecting you.

“Sheesh, your driver has got quite the attitude with me,” you remark, dusting off any particles in your clothes. You set your schoolbag aside as you approach Suguru, who is sitting in the middle of the room on a raised platform. “Thanks for having me tonight.”

“I’m happy you can make it,” he answers as he adjusts himself in his seat. He’s back in his typical priest garb, and you wonder if that was a personal choice because you have to admit; it’s not the most flattering on him. Not that religious garb is ever flattering…

“So,” you begin, seating yourself in the center of the room. “The demonstration. What does that entail?”

Geto casts a veil by chanting an incantation you have never heard of before. Then again, you have never even heard of sorcerers until now, so everything is new to you. Then you witness a few curses lurking about, ones he likely released for the sake of the demonstration. You watch, wide eyed, as the amalgamations are absorbed into a black orb that can fit into his hand. He smirks as you before you watch him ingest it with a look of disgust etched on his face, and from the way he arches his back to force it down.

You’re in awe. That’s his personal method for exorcising spirits? He’s discussed it in the past, but you have never seen it in person until now. You’re not sure what to think. He’s mentioned there are other methods other sorcerers have, and this is the one he, in his words, has been cursed with as a sorcerer. You idly wonder if he ever wanted to be one from the start.

“And that’s that,” he finishes, “I’m already their host, and exorcisms are usually much tougher than this, at times. The next time a client shows up, I can show you a more proper exorcism.”

He lifts the veil.

“And you say this is your unique method?”

He nods. “Yes. I consume them to exorcise them.”

“Your body holds all of those demons? Like a vessel?” you whisper, eyes shimmering from concern. Doesn’t that…not seem unfair to him? He has to hold all of those curses in his body. He has to make sure they don’t roam freely. He has been granted a power that seems to eat away at him, chip away at bits and pieces of his own agency.

That’s monumentally unfair in your eyes. You wish you can lift that weight on his shoulders.

He nods again, expression grim.

“Suguru,” you start after a period of reflection. You chew a bit on your lip. “Doesn’t it ever feel like too much?”

The resounding silence you get is response is all the answer you need to understand.

Suguru finally takes you on that proper date sometime later. Which eventually expands to more dates. Seeing each other more often. And as a man of his word, he even follows through on his promise and returns back to your university for a few more guest lectures all throughout the semester.

You feel like you’re floating; you never expect for anything to evolve with Suguru, but you’re definitely not complaining about the development.

It’s late one evening when Suguru requests your presence for another demonstration of an exorcism. It’s one of your students, he mentions to you, and you recognize her immediately upon entering the exorcism chamber. She’s a bright, ambitious girl who’s been thriving in your class in spite of the curses surrounding her that you’ve been able to notice. It’s why you’ve been a little more lenient with some students than with others. Is it unethical? Perhaps… but sometimes it’s necessary to give them a little grace here and there.

She’s approached you several times between class and during lectures, her eyes wide and thrilled to learn in spite of clearly cracking under the weight of the torment the curse spirits have put her through. The young lady has mentioned in passing that she’s felt a weight on her shoulders, an overwhelming amount of exhaustion that she can’t seem to shake off no matter how much medication she takes to stay alert. You know the reason why. And Suguru has noticed her. That’s why he’s suggested the student to visit his temple.

“She understands she’s cursed after I explained to her,” Suguru instructs you, his tone colder than what you’re used to all of a sudden. “I’ve noticed these curses are particularly stubborn with her.”

Now, as you stand beside Suguru on his raised platform, looking at the young, bright bubbly student in question, cowering in her spot. You can’t help shuddering from the tension. You’re never great with it. Suguru maintains his sharp gaze on the poor girl, his violet eyes reflecting a darkness you’ve never seen before in him. The student stands trembling at her spot, her hands clutching the hem of her shirt. Her gaze flits to you, fear pooling in her eyes, and your breath hitches—you’ve never seen her more desperate for relief from her torment. Even the strong ones break.

“Watch closely,” Suguru instructs, resting a hand on your shoulder.

He raises his free hand, weaving no gestures, nothing. Just instructing the girl coldly to hold still. You watch in awe as you watch the disgusting, grotesque curse spirits clinging onto the poor girl vanish into that same black orb. Some of the lights in the room flicker. The temperature drops and you rub your arms, seeking some kind of friction, some warmth. You can see your breath when you breathe out.

“Suguru…” you murmur, beady eyes glancing up at him.

“Shush,” he chides, his tone commanding and almost dismissive, not meeting your gaze.

The student’s body jolts as if struck by an invisible force, her eyes wide in terror as her breath comes in ragged gasps. You feel an instinct to rush to her, to offer some comfort, but Suguru holds you in place. He has told you to come here to watch, not to act.

“Those blasted curses, they cling to the weakness in humans,” Suguru mutters, his lips barely moving as he brings the orb to his lips. “Humans…they don’t understand the forces they impose on themselves.”

You don’t rip your gaze from him, a strange knot twisting in your gut. He addresses humanity with such disdain that it makes your skin crawl. It���s almost as if he wants to distance himself from the very essence of humanity.

He swallows the orb whole, arching his back as he grimaces at the strong taste (they can’t taste good). Your student collapses forward, her body quivering from relief. She’s smiling as she feels weightless and carefree again. You finally rush to her side, your heart hammering as you rest your hands on her shoulders, offering her comfort. Now she’s safe…but seeing the way Suguru’s attitude has shifted…something is not settling right in your soul about him.

“You helped her,” you whisper, bewildered eyes flitting to his. “Thank you. Thank you, Suguru.”

Suguru’s expression remains cold, calculating, still looking at the student with a hint of disdain. “Of course. It’s what I do. These blasted things thrive off of the pathetic weaknesses of humans.”

Your eyebrows furrow at that statement. He’s cold. You know the gist of the ideologies he preaches, of course, but you never thought it ran so much deeper in his soul. His gaze finally softens the longer he stares at you. For a moment, you’re not sure you really know the sort of person Suguru Geto is. It can’t just be the public persona he displays. And it can’t just be the sides he shows to you one on one. It’s true; humans are both simple and complex, multi-faceted…You can never truly know someone, even if you’re in close proximity to them.

“Are these the things you wish to learn?” he inquires, approaching you and helping you to your feet. He acknowledges the student before she makes her exit. Not before thanking Suguru profusely for his help. She’s never felt better. You can’t help but feel a sense of happiness for her. That torment has finally ended.

“I want to do the things you can do,” you reply, “I want to help others. I don’t want to be helpless anymore.”

His gaze softens even more at that, and your heart flutters.

“Then I’ll show you. There are workarounds for those who lack cursed energy. Tools imbued with cursed energy will be beneficial to you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “If you want to be the change you want to see in the world, then let me be your guide.”

“Teach me everything, Suguru,” you yelp a bit as he goes in for a dip kiss, leaning you backward as your lips meet. You return the passion, lips melding against his as if you can’t think of anything else you’d rather do in that moment. “I want to help you.”

He hoists you up by your bottom, hooking your legs around his waist as he continues to kiss you deep, leading you back to the raised platform and settling you on the cushions and not once breaking the kiss.

You don’t even stop him when he begins to unbutton your top. Or when he slips off your pants.

He trails little kisses and bites between your thighs, and you let out a dreamy sigh. You don’t even care that you’re practically out in the open here. But by now, the temple’s off the clock, isn’t it? Besides, it’s not like you haven’t already done riskier things with Suguru already in your own damn classroom.

Next thing you know, you’re already debauched and fucked out of your mind and he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet. He’s just taking you apart with his mouth, probably in an effort to wash away that curse taste he’s ingested not too long ago.

You do like to toy with the idea of being his stress ball. Carrying such a burden like his…he must need that escape. That little time of respite from his role in the world that has been thrust upon him against his will.

You can’t blame him.

If that escape is hours crushed between your thighs? Well, who are you to deny him?

Your lips part as you gasp when you feel his tongue twist around your little bud of nerves. He really has shown he can do this for hours. He’s even creamed untouched like a hormonal schoolboy before a handful of times just doing this and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed. There’s even been another time where he’s been so aroused by you that he’s creamed inside as soon as he entered you, which at first he found embarrassing but you insisted to him that it was the highest compliment in the world to you.

You wonder if that’s going to happen again tonight.

A shriek escapes your lips as he closes his mouth over your gooey folds and suckled hard, gulping down some of that heavy slick while rolling his tongue between them. Your back arches against the floor, hips grinding up into his mouth and he growls, low and menacing, like he’s in that mood—only interested in pleasing you on his terms.

“Suguru…” his name slips from your lips in a dreamy moan, legs constricting around his neck as you desire to knock him closer into you. His breath fans against your sex, and you buck your hips upward, craving more friction.

All you’re craving is more.

Already you can see a hint of a wet spot in his robe, meaning he’s already strained, already fully erect and leaking of arousal just doing this, just tearing you apart. You want to return the pleasure but this is another instance where he doesn’t need to be touched. He looks flushed himself, fucked out of his mind and delirious, eyes half mast as he locks his gaze on yours, his lips and chin sheen from your slick, while suckling and licking and slurping at your sopping gooey glistening cunt like he’s honored to do it.

He growls low again, and that wet spot in his pants spreads. He’s creamed himself untouched again and you mewl from the thought. Yet he doesn’t seem satisfied. He never is after just one orgasm or three out of you. You come soon after him, clenching helplessly around the wet muscle. He only chuckles, passing his tongue from your entrance back up to your clit. Where the tip of his tongue teases it with a few flicks before plunging it into your twitching, fluttering, soppy hole. You moan, hands gripping his head, clawing at his hair. He approves with another twist of his tongue inside your gummy walls.

In these moods of his, he doesn’t plan to stop. And you don’t mind. This indulges you as much as this indulges him.

During finals week, Suguru decides to hang back while you’re proctoring the exams for your class. He’s able to exorcise any spirits while there in a blink of an eye, lifting the weights off of numerous distressed students. You can’t help but smile. He does excuse himself a few times to ingest the curses, returning the third time with a cup of coffee for you both.

He sneakily brushes his fingers over your hand as you scan the classroom for any suspicious activity—meaning cheating, not curses—and you cast a sidelong glance at him with a little smile on your face.

As the students turn in their exams at the end of the period, Suguru speaks up and catches your attention as you’re stacking the papers neatly on your desk.

“So, is this the last exam for you?” he asks, hovering over your desk.

“No,” you answer with a defeated sigh. You’re so over the term. Your final term is going to be your lightest workload, which you’re looking forward to; it’s the little things. “I still have my own exams to take for the rest of this week.”

“Oh. Perhaps afterward, we can celebrate then. Nanako and Mimiko have been nagging me about going overseas somewhere for the winter. Will you join us?”

You tilt your head as he moves to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“Who will look after the temple?”

“Ah,” he quips with a sigh. “Manami can handle it while we’re gone.”

“Oh, well, if you really would like me to, then of course I’d love to go. Where are you guys thinking?” You’re in the middle of putting away your laptop and the files full of exams tucked away in a manilla folder.

“Bali,” he answers with a grin.

Your jaw hangs open and your entire face lights up. “No way.”

He leans in to give you a chaste kiss. “Of course. We have all the money and the time now and the girls have always wanted to go. They’ve come to adore you. They’d love you there.”

Pinch me, I’m dreaming. How did I get so lucky?

Little do you know that luck of yours is going to be tested.

You squeal in delight as you steal a kiss from him. Before you know it that kiss melds into a quick succession of heated kisses, and he grips you by your waist, hoisting you over your desk and pulling you flush into him.

“Can we lock the doors now,” he breathes between slobbery, biting kisses and though delirious you still manage to nod, as he reluctantly pulls away to do just that along with closing all the blinds.

He returns to you, shoving your things out of the way on your desk as he presses your back against the cool wood. He locks your lips in a frenzied kiss, desperate, soon trailing down to the juncture between your neck and shoulder where he bites down hard.

“Suguru—!” you hiss, your nails digging into his shoulders. He responds with an amused chuckle, licking the hickey now blooming on that area as his expert hands yank your work slacks off.

“The cameras are all off, yeah? Or if they are—let’s give them a show then—!”

“Nasty,” you playfully chide while whacking his shoulder. “They’re off now. No more lectures in this room today.”

“What a shame,” he laments, as he pries your legs as far apart as they can go before plunging his tongue into your sex. You squeal like a pig again, for an entirely different reason, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Ah ah,” he admonishes with a frown as he twirls his tongue between your already soaked folds, groaning low and guttural at your natural taste. “I want you to enjoy it, baby.”

You feel the flat of his tongue lap over your sex, smooth and languid, and you flush harder from the goopy, gooey squelching noises from the combination of your juices and his saliva. He’s devouring you like he always enjoys, taking his time in taking you apart.

You yelp as he inserts his large pink tongue inside, and he chuckles again, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. You squirm under him, and he holds you down in place, his grip unyielding.

It’s all so lewd, but you should be used to this by now, feeling his tongue plunge in and out of your gummy, spongy insides. But your head falls back, nearly slamming itself against the desk as your eyes cross.

The sloshing of your juices and his saliva is so…so embarrassing, and in a lecture hall too? Not as if you haven’t done this many times before with him, but why is it as thrilling as the first time whenever it’s with him? No one’s ever made you feel the things he did. No one’s ever understood you like the way he did and you want to give him everything.

You come in a hot flash, and he pulls off your sex, but not before a few long, dramatic slurps and gulps of your gushing slick that makes you squeak in embarrassment again. You basically are livestock to Suguru. He’s not even going to deny it either.

You whine pitifully as you feel him pull away, feeling sorely empty. But you’re not whining for all that long when you hear the light wisp of him pulling his pants and taking out his fully erect cock. He’s prepared, as usual, taking out a condom to wrap around his absurdly huge length that you’re surprised you can even handle taking even with enough prep. He lines himself to your entrance and pushes just the tip inside first, waiting for you to adjust with a little grunt of his own. You love it when he gets vocal; it’s often the only time you ever see him completely raw and uncomposed. He lets himself go completely with you, and he plunges more of his length inside and you utter a little strained gasp, gripping tighter onto his shoulders if it’s even humanely possible at this point.

He hoists you up from the desk, securing you in his arms as he begins to move you up and down on his cock. You cling helplessly to him, burying your face into his neck and breathing in his natural musk. It’s crazy to you that this is the most vulnerable you’ve ever been with any partner you’ve ever had and he makes you feel so secure in allowing it. He must feel the same way. Doesn’t he?

His hands rake down your sides, stopping at your waist where he rests them. He purrs, his thrusts growing more erratic with need, and you can still hear some sloshing of your juices from your previous orgasm and it’s lewd and so embarrassing but it’s so hot because it’s him doing this to you. Not many people can get away with this in a dignified way…ever, really, but for some reason, with him, he makes you feel on top of the world.

And you are on top of at least his world right now.

Not much longer, and you find him releasing with you soon following suit, your gummy, gooey, slick walls clenching desperately around his cock. You stay like that for a few moments, still secured tightly in his arms and his cock still inside. Sometimes he likes to let it just sit in there for a few minutes, maybe longer, savoring the comfort of being inside you before fully pulling out and disposing of the used condom (in a much more discreet manner, considering they’re still in a public lecture hall).

He's always prepared. You appreciate that about him. He brings in supplies for a quick cleanup and suggests going to the nearest restroom for that before he escorts you back to your dorm. It’s your final week there until the semester ends. You ask him to stay and to join you in the shower.

Of course he won’t say no to such an inviting request.

Lucky for you, the shower you share with your neighbor is vacant, and you lock either side before stripping down. Geto follows soon after, slipping inside with you after you wait for the water to preheat.

“When do you graduate?” he murmurs as he kisses your shoulder. You lean into him, sighing in relief. You have never felt more at ease with anyone than like with Suguru. He makes you feel things no one else in your life ever has before. It’s why you have so few in your life; nobody ever truly ‘got’ you.

“Um, from the Master’s program next term,” you reply in a whisper. “But I think I might aim for my PhD…”

He secures his hold around your waist as the scalding water showers over your bodies. Steam begins to fog the area around you.

“Being on school grounds where curse spirits are everywhere…are you sure you want to be around that for a few more years?”

“Curse spirits are everywhere, in general, Suguru,” you counter, craning your neck as he kisses up to your ear. “It’s just…a fact. I can’t let that stop me from pursuing my goals.”

“That’s a fair point,” he mutters into your skin before reaching for your shampoo. “May I?”

“You’re sweet,” you chuckle, snatching the shampoo bottle from his hand. “But why don’t you let me take care of you, for once, Suguru?”

His eyes widen at the idea, but he gives you a soft smile. For a moment, you catch a glimpse of how tired he seems from the burden he’s forced to carry—nothing he’s ever wanted for himself from the start. The more you learn of his role of a sorcerer, the things he’s faced…you can’t help but want to give back. You want to make him feel cherished, loved. Because he is cherished and loved.

His lips move to your forehead where he peppers soft kisses as you begin to emulsify the shampoo he’s handed to you between your hands before working into his luscious locks of hair. You can’t help but admire how long it is, how well he takes care of it. He says he allows his twin girls to brush through it from time to time since they enjoy things like that.

You feel him pull you closer into him, so close that you can feel your synced heartbeats. You’re in the middle of washing down the middle of his hair and you chuckle.

“What’s up?” you whisper, as he hides his face into your neck.

“Thank you,” he whispers back, his voice almost like a pained whimper, catching you off guard. He has never been this open with you before. “Thank you.”

You think you hear him sniffling, at first thinking it’s because the steam is catching up to him. The steam from a shower can really do wonders on clearing out those sinuses. But no. It’s not from that at all, you realize as you hug him closer, drawing soothing circles on his back.

Suguru’s…crying.

He decides to stay a bit longer with you in your dormitory, snuggling you close into his body as you’re grading the exams.

You don’t comment on the crying, because it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, anyway. Why make a comment? He is free to feel everything and anything around you. It’s the greatest compliment of all to you.

He’s safe here with you, just like you feel safe with him.

You brush your fingers through his hair, inhaling the fresh cleanly scent of it. Fruity. Citrusy. It’s calming as you try not to make any snide comments on some students’ work, because higher education doesn’t necessarily mean you get a lot of bright students. It’s still a mixed bag.

“How the hell does a Master’s student not know how to spell mitigate?” you sigh, tapping your red ink pen against your forehead. “Or criticism? Seriously?”

Suguru chuckles at that, resting his chin on your shoulder, and meeting your eyes. The bags under his eyes are clearer now up close. He can’t mask his exhaustion. From whatever it is. You can only make speculations from what he’s shown you already. You aren’t here to judge him; what right do you have to do that? You can only be here for him.

“I love you,” you hear him say and your bewildered eyes meet his. But you come down from the temporary shock, kissing the bridge of his nose.

“I love you too,” you reply, meaning it, as you resume grading before groaning again. You just may rip all of these exams apart on the professor’s behalf! “Another misspelling of criticism?! These students need to go back to grade school because how the hell have they gotten this far in life?! Gosh, so much of their stupid is showing…”

You hear Suguru chuckle again and you beam at him, knowing you achieved your goal. Just to pull him out of that dark space he’s trapped himself in—whatever it is. You’re here for him. You want him to understand he’s not alone.

You press another kiss to the crown of his head. When’s the last time Suguru ever felt relaxed? Or actually happy? In a world like this and a technique like his, can he ever relax or feel happy?

You feel him slump against you as he drifts to sleep, snoring soundly. He’s more than welcome to stay, as long as he needs to. His duties back at the temple can wait. He needs to allow himself to rest.

When the semester ends, you take up Suguru’s suggestion to live with him at the temple. You don’t have plans to go back to the countryside, and your trip with them is in another week, anyway. Over time, it’s clear to you how deep his disdain for humanity runs from the way he treats his clients behind closed doors. He makes flippant remarks, and at first you wanted to believe it’s just some strange quirk of his.

An incident proves how wrong you are.

You aren’t supposed to be there. It’s your fault. But you enter the exorcism chamber seeking Suguru concerning the upcoming trip to Bali—you can’t even remember what about specifically anymore—and that’s where you see him at his most cold and heartless toward a client.

There, in the middle of the room, is an elder man cowering on his hands and knees before Suguru who possesses that hardened expression like he has other clients. Except something about this seems off. More off than usual.

“Please, Geto, I’m so sorry. I have no more money to give you, but please, please help me. I can’t take it anymore!” the man begs, and Suguru only chuckles coldly in response. He hasn’t realized you’ve entered the room yet. Or maybe he has, and he’s just begun to show you his unhinged side.

“If you have no more money for me, then I have no more use for you,” he sneers and though you can’t understand what’s happening, he snaps his fingers and some of his devotees go to retrieve the man to drag him out of the room. His eyes follow them with that hardened stare, which softens as soon as he sees his followers brush past you.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he apologizes as he approaches you. “Did you need something, baby?”

“Suguru, who was that just now?” you stammer as you clutch onto your phone, your lips pressed together as you try to make sense of what you just witnessed. Suguru doesn’t look like the man you’ve come to know to that man but now he seems to behave as if that’s nothing out of the ordinary for him.

Which maybe it isn’t, but it is out of the ordinary for you.

It just goes to show—you never really know who someone is behind closed doors, after all. You still don’t want to judge Suguru. Everyone is multifaceted. Everyone is complex. Everyone has layers. Why should you judge him, especially if you still don’t know the full story? You don’t feel like you have the agency to do so. You’ve come here on your own prerogative, because you want to help the helpless. You don’t want to be helpless yourself anymore.

Something dark flashes in his expression again and you feel a chill down your spine.

“Ah, he’s no longer a concern to the organization,” he explains, “He’s just been hoarding money he’s owed from us and then he comes to claim he has none left. So we cut business with him.”

You need to leave, you hear yourself say. You need to leave him. You need to escape. He’s not who he claims he is to you, isn’t he?

Run. An urgent voice reverberates through your head like a gong struck.

“It looked like he was…begging for your help,” you breathe, eyes downcast. “And you didn’t help him. Isn’t that what you do here?”

“We help those who are helpless themselves,” he answers with a sigh, taking your hands in his and drawing patterns into the palm which didn’t hold your phone. “And he isn’t helpless. He’s just run out of luck.”

Run. The voice repeats.

“I see,” you mutter.

“Now, what is it did you want to ask me about?” he asks with that wide smile of his that seems unsettling all of a sudden the longer you stare.

“Oh, um, nothing, I just wanted to ask you about the hotels we were staying at on our trip,” you reply, surprising yourself that you keep your voice even in spite of your heartbeat rapidly increasing and your brain screaming at you to stay away.

RUN! It roars now. You can’t ignore it. You can’t ignore your gut.

“That’s something we can discuss later.” He kisses along your knuckles. “I’ve been called to a few more meetings today. I’ll see you tonight.”

You gulp on a hard lump of nothing, but manage to nod.

“Okay,” you squeak, exiting the exorcism chamber and dashing toward your shared bedroom with Suguru. You don’t even look behind you. You’re just letting your legs carry you to your destination while your mind conjures an escape route.

You need to run. You need to get out. Before things get worse.

You burst through the door of the bedroom, seeking your suitcase which has already been set aside for the trip. You don’t want to think about that anymore. This is the perfect setup; he won’t think you’re leaving, just packing ahead for the trip, right? You doubt he’s that careless, but you can’t be careless, either. You can weasel your way out of here somehow.

You start with the small things. Then rummage through your belongings, tossing them into the suitcase as quick as you can. You freeze when you hear foot falls approaching the room, and you quickly zip up your suitcase, setting it aside.

“I doubt you’re packing ahead. You didn’t pack enough clothes for that here.” Your hairs stand on end as you hear his voice address you. “Are you planning on staying elsewhere?”

“N-no!” You lie through your teeth, whipping around to meet his calculating gaze. “I just wanted to figure out what to pack for the trip, I swear!”

“Then why did you stuff half your wardrobe in your suitcase?” His gaze flits to your backpack. “And your backpack is full of your supplies. I’m not a fool, my love, so don’t take me for one.”

“A-are you upset with me?” you stammer, twiddling your fingers.

“If you ever try to leave me, I’ll break every bone in your body and lock you away so you can’t escape,” he sneers, approaching you in a few long strides until he’s barely inches away from you. He clutches your arms in a tight, vice grip, and you yelp in shock. “Or perhaps I’ll keep you lodged in the throat of that worm curse you saw when we first met. Its useful for storing valuables like my cursed tools…or you.”

“Suguru?” Tears prick the corners of your eyes as now you’re the one cowering. What has happened? You’ve seen some signs and elected to ignore it in favor of giving him the benefit of the doubt, like everyone deserves. And look where that’s got you.

He twists one of your arms so far you can hear a few cracks and pops, and you howl in pain. “You won’t leave me.”

His grip around your arms constricts even more as he releases some of the curses he’s exorcised, surrounding you.

“You won’t leave me,” he repeats, his tone dripping in venom. “Not after you’ve shown me love I never thought I’d ever experience again.”

Again?

You feel the grimy arms of a large curse snake around your ankles and waist.

“You won’t leave me,” he says again, hie eyes darkening with something sinister. “Ever.”

[sefinaa]

A message you may need to hear. 💌

Masterlist.

Note: Not my usual thing, yet lately I have been hearing small messages throughout the day regarding my intuition, so I thought about making small posts about them. A pac will come soon, I have been busy lately. Also, if you wanted to find any of my timeless reading without pacs, I made a section for it on my masterlist named "nonpac intuitive messages/posts.''

A lot of times we wish we could go back into the past and erase what has happened. However, we forget that our past selves believed it was the right choice, and it was the best choice for them to get the thing they had desired and deserved. But it is forgotten that your past self did not know the knowledge you know now in your present time, nor did they have the same mindset as you do now, and the same will appear for yourself in the future. Do you want to repeat the same situation in your future, or do you prefer to forgive yourself now and learn to appreciate your past self for what they thought was right? Because of what your past self did, you are suffering the consequences of something you did not wish for, yet it is what you need. There is a lesson reoccurring for you that you have not been taught nor used as motivation to get the wish you wanted. Instead of being consumed with your regrets, work on what you want and get it. Staying in the same place will not help you achieve what you desire but instead keep you stagnant. I understand that the pain is painful and has led you to feel as if you were mud and rain was falling and the droplet hit you, and as you tried to get up, children rain boots jumped on you as the children laughed and had fun while you were ceasing to exist. But the anger, guilt, and stress you feel is all part of life, and you have to learn to utilize those feelings into something magical. Learn to work on yourself and change your mindset so you genuinely know what you want. The thoughts on who you desire to be and what you want are the fear that lingers on your mind, but these are not you. It’s the safe option that we humans will automatically choose if they do not know themselves or have no confidence of getting what they believe can be true.

You may be thinking, “Sefina, this is easier said than done,’’ and that is true, but everything in life can either be a breeze or our death, whether it’s mentally or physically. You must decide what type of life you truly want, what the outcomes can or will be, and how it plays a factor within your life. Allowing yourself to cry is healthy, but to always cry a night feeling as everything it out to get you or make you suffer may lead you to a road of destruction, whether it is with others or with yourself. Do understand that life cannot change if the person does not want to change. Think of a group of people in a group; a leader appears amongst them, but they are shy and cannot say what they want to say without stumbling with their words. But one day, they decide to change because this is not what they envisioned themselves to be, and so they do change, and life changes for them and creates beautiful new things. No, it was not easy for them, but with that change, they became the person they envisioned, and the same can go for you. Learn to understand why people say ‘’change starts within,’’ because it does. Without you changing your mindset and learning what you want, getting what you desire becomes hard. You become your blockage, and then you will start to wonder why you cannot manifest what you want. Do not become your own blockage, nor be oblivious that you are in your way.

Once you are able to understand that life can be easy as you work on yourself instead of focusing on the external views you have around you, you will achieve what you set your mind on. My intuition says, ‘’the worst time is your best time. Beautiful things appear to us regardless if it’s a painful time or a blessing time—more beautiful things will appear if your heart is just as beautiful as your wants.’’ Meaning, if you focus on what you actually want within your heart and learn how to fall in love with yourself, whether it’s who you are as of now or changing to become your best self, everything will start to fall into place without you doing anything other than dealing with the internal factors.

A scene has appeared in my mind where a person has two jobs; they went to college to have two college degrees because they wanted to major in two different fields but could not decide which was their dream job. So instead of settling with one, they went back and got another, and now they are working on both fields. For some, this sounds like a hassle, but for them, this is their dream life. Everything is subjective, our wants and likes are simply an opinion and nothing more. They can be something dear to us, but still an opinion, especially to others, unless they relate, in which case the opinion can become a fact, but only in that community or between you and them.

You are a logical person, you never truly focused on what your heart wanted from you and decided to focus on what your fearful mind wanted without understanding that this is the reason why you are stuck in your situation right now. You cannot hate and nitpick your past self because you are the reason for being toxic with yourself. Logical decisions can help people, but ignoring your heart and what your heart wants strains the bond of your relationship with yourself. Understand that your desires are focused on your heart; your feelings are your likes and dislikes.. and despite everything being subjective, these are still your wants, correct? So, ask yourself why you allow your fearful thoughts to invade things for you instead of picking what your heart wants. The heart has a bad reputation as people are prone to believe emotions, and following your heart is weak and idiotic, yet it is everything around us, whether people want to believe it or not. Working hard to have your dream job is logical, yes, but it is also following your heart and working hard to get it. Making a rational decision and not focusing on your feelings is still part of the heart. Why? Because you are focusing on your best case scenario and wanting to do what is best for you. I understand that you also have a bad perception of emotions because if you have them, then you must reveal how vulnerable you truly are, yet you cry at night and show it to yourself. What truly makes you afraid of being vulnerable? And why did it show up throughout your middle school era? Learn to feel okay asking yourself personal questions and be patient with yourself if you do not know of the answer. Everything needs compassion and patience.

Learn not to neglect your present self out of love, appreciation, and understanding. It’s okay, I understand that you are struggling right now, but taking care of yourself is also important. It helps heal the emotional wounds that were created by others, but in this case, your family members. It connects you and makes you feel worthy of love; don’t you believe that you are worthy of it? Maybe not now, but I know that you do. Forgive your past self and show appreciation so in the future, instead of you insulting your past self (it being you right now), your future self can salute you for trying. That is what healing is, and it’s rather beautiful if you learn that lesson properly.

Divider

[bunnis-monsters]

Guys. I am not a content creator. I am a person, a human being posting fanfics on the internet. You are responsible for your OWN online experience. I’ll tag things, but it is your job to filter out things that you do not like. It’s not MY JOB to hold your hand and tell you what to filter and how to make yourself comfortable.

I have a list of tags you can filter in my pinned post. It’s in bold letters. That’s the most I can do for you, directly giving you the tags you need to filter to help you not be triggered or upset. I care about y’all, but there’s only so much as I can do.

I’m autistic and don’t like change, and I really don’t like people telling me the thing I’m doing is wrong when I KNOW it’s the right way. It really pisses me off.

You do not tell me what to do, you either filter the tags or block me and move on. Just like I’m doing to the people in my asks that think I’m some sort of content creator, which btw is a harmful way to view people. I create stories, works of art, whether you see them as such or not.

I’m 23, write Fics in my spare time. It’s not that fucking serious.

[never2tired4u]

Hey!! I hope you're doing well! I just read your post about the dateables reacting to MC back in human form, and I really loved it! Your writing was great and I loved how their personalities were on point!! I saw your asks were open and wanted to ask if you'd like to write a bit of a domestic fluff with the dateables reacting to MC cooking/teaching them how to cook human food! (especially Solomon bc he's the worst at it lol) Thank you and please write more in the future, you're amazing 💗

— 🦇

Note: Thank you so much 🦇 anon! Also I love this idea, unfortunately i actually didn't know what to do with it :( but tried my best and sorry for not replying soon. Been busy with life in general… Came back to NB yesterday only to get a message from Luke saying he was being chased by Devildom tomatoes lol

You are amazing too and I will try to write more in the future <3

OBEY ME! Dateables x Reader

Characters: 《°•[ Solomon , Simeon , Diavolo , Barbatos...]•°》

Summary: 《°•[ Cooking with them!]•°》

Warnings: 《°•[ Fluff, Solomon wanting to cook.]•°》

With Solomon, cooking isn’t easy. He is a free spirit, curious, and itching to try different combinations with a smile on his face, be it potions or spells, or cooking. Thankfully, he is powerful enough to fix those failed experiments and let it be a learning experience for him, except when he is tasked (himself) to cook. He tries, fails, and just accepts it as perfection, never learning his lesson, never improving. You don’t have the heart to tell him to not join you in the kitchen since he seems to genuinely love cooking for people, however, sometimes he really tests your patience.

Like right now, as he tries, once again, to add some sort of weird ingredient to the pot. Something that DEFINITELY doesn't belong in a human dish…Or any realm's dish for that matter.

“Oh, you caught me.”

“Put that down.” you warned him with a stern voice, Solomon just smiled while slowly lowering the thing, “Not in the pot!” you yelled, barely managing to stop him before he added his ‘touch’ to the meal, “Solomon, what did we talk about?”

Solomon frowned, “I know, it just…” sighing as he glanced at the book, reading the instructions again, “The recipe seems so boring.”

“It’s a soup recipe.”

He dramatically sighed again and stepped back, putting the “ingredient” he was going to add back into his pocket, making you wonder what it even was. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by him wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his cheek on your shoulder, “Sorry, I promise I won't try to add any DemonFlower Eyeball into it.”

“Just don't add anything!”

“Okay okay,” he laughs, “Only human stuff, got it.”

A smile formed on your lips after hearing his voice next to your ear, a gentle and calm tone. Ready to do anything you requested from him. For now.

After all, even though Solomon is a free spirit, his love for you makes him come back down to earth. If it is you who tells him to follow the recipe, then he will. And surprisingly enough, he isn’t a bad cook once he stops his ways of…adding things.

He fetches you some ingredients then stands next to you, waiting for your instructions (since you sadly don't trust him much to do anything on his own). You finished rather quickly and ready the bowls. Both of you sit on the table and Solomon takes his first sip, “And here I thought I was the teacher in our relationship. It seems I have a lot to learn from you too.” he says as a genuine smile graces his lips.

“Hm? Why do you say that?”

“This tastes delicious.”

“It's a simple dish.” you say, a little confused by his low tone, and the far away look in his eyes.

“It's been forever since I've eaten any human world food,” his smile never leaves his face, “It may be a simple dish but that is what makes it so special. Thank you for the food.”

Simeon is someone who enjoys cooking, not as much as Luke perhaps, but he is still okay at it. For him, trying new recipes every now and then, helping Luke around is something of a routine at this point. Cooking in general has always been a job he needed to do, until his view changed quickly when you decided to enter the kitchen with him. The angel then quickly realized that cooking can also be fun and engaging too.

If you are around that is.

Tonight, you had a craving for some human world food. Luke asked to try some too so you decided to get to work and Simeon offered to help.

“So, where do we start?-” he is suddenly stopped by your arms wrapping around him and completely stops moving for a moment, however he gently hugs you back.

“Simeon?” you ask in confusion, “What are you doing?”

Simeon slightly pulls back, only to realize you were just tying the apron around him, “Oh.” he smiles gently, while mentally hitting himself on the head and pulls back, “I thought you wanted a hug.”

“Maybe later, now let's get to work!”

Simeon is out of his usual attire and wearing something more comfortable instead, with an apron tied to his waist thanks to you.

He listens to what you want to make and what he can do. (Un)fortunately he usually finishes his work pretty fast and then tries to take over yours to help which you refuse. Giving him another, much more simple task and while he does that Simeon often starts to ramble.

“...Would it be rude of me to say that I like how human ingredients are so normal?”

“Compared to what?”

“Anything from Devildom really...” Simeon can't help but look guilty, it feels like he is insulting the whole Devildom himself, a place most of his friends consider a home, but he can't help it, “At least these don't try to attack us.”

“Oh, that's true,” you almost let out a chuckle at how nervous Simeon seems as he chops tomatoes, probably imagining them starting a fight, “What about Celestia?”

“Celestia? Well, hm…” his hands pause for a moment as he gets lost in thought, “They are…Okay? Though, some of them are…Too much.”

You aren't really sure what Simeon means by ‘Too much.’ but decide not to ask about it as he seems annoyed. A memory of an energetic cucumber crossed his mind, perhaps?

“I'm glad you like our normal and boring tomatoes then.”

Simeon laughs nervously, “Yeah, I like it, especially since they don't grow legs and run around.” he turns to you with a smile, “So, we can just focus on making the food and enjoy talking like this.”

Even after the food was finished and the three of you sat down to enjoy the food Simeon can't help but ask you to teach him more human world recipes, “Luke enjoyed it.” he says. Hoping you don't notice how he just wants to spend time with you.

“You want me to make a human world dish?”

“No.” you shake your head, “We are going to make it together, Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiles, when people come to him they always have requests. For example, Beelzebub. The young devil always says he wants to eat his cooking, or use the big kitchen at the palace for a new dish. No one ever came to him and asked to cook together since it was usually his job alone to do, he is a butler after all.

“Alright. However, I don't know the dish you want to make, so…” he can't help but chuckle a little as he bows his head, “Please treat me kindly.”

His words are a complete lie though, Barbatos may not know how the recipe goes but he can tell what needs to be added. He is a great cook, and so graceful while he does the work. He is pretty quick too so the food is almost done already.

“Hmm…” after taking a small sip from the pot you can't help but think that something is missing, it tastes good but it could be better you think, so you turn to your helper, as he likes to call himself, “Barbatos, what do you think of this?”

He casually takes the spoon you hold for him and hums, “It's great, but how about adding some bay leaf?”

“...Bay leaf? We have that?”

“I do, I sometimes use it.” he walks up to a random cabinet and pulls out a jar, “It goes well in foods that need to be cooked for a long period of time. You just need to take it out after it's done.”

“Huh. So, you use human world ingredients in your cooking?”

“Only when you are around,” you watch as Barbatos adds two leaves into the pot, “It's amusing to see your reaction when you eat what I cook for you.”

“That's why they taste so familiar!?”

Barbatos innocently smiles at you, “Don't forget to stir, dear. Or would you like me to take over?”

“Barbatos, don't tell me you actually have been making me human food that looks like Devildom food.”

“I thought the familiar taste would make you happy.”

“...That's kind. Thank you.” you smile, but then squint your eyes at him, “You sure there's nothing else…?”

Barbatos doesn't say anything as he starts cleaning around the kitchen, picking up the things you've used and no longer need.

Of course there's another reason why he secretly cooks human dishes for you. It's so you can visit him, compliment him and ask for him. It's a selfish reason. However, for someone like him it's not surprising. He is a demon, and when it comes to your time and attention, he selfishly wants it all.

You are asking the prince, the future ruler of Devildom to cook with you, a human dish? And he agrees with a laugh? If anyone heard this, they would be thinking the Devildom is coming to an end. His butler however, can't help but think Diavolo agreed without hesitation only because it's you and only because it's a way to escape from his duties. Considering the prince has never touched an utensil in his life, it is weird to see that he seems so confident.

His confidence, however, quickly shaders as he accidentally pushes on the tomato too much while trying to chop it and makes a mess. Covering your aprons and walls with tomato seeds and juices.

He turns to you and smiles, “Have I ever told you that you look good in red?”

You scoff but can't help as a smile grows on your face, “Yes, usually when I'm in a red outfit, not when in a red mess.”

“Small details.” he laughs, but a sigh leaves him as he looks down at the chopping board, “I didn't think they would be so soft and delicate.”

“Don't blame the tomatoes.” when he turns his sad eyes towards you, you wave your hands around quickly, a feeling of guilt settling in, “Don't blame yourself either, accidents happen in kitchens! We can still use it.”

“That's great! Then I'll continue with the cutting,” he says, smiling again, “I'll be more careful from now onl.”

Diavolo may not have a lot of experience in the kitchen, no matter which realm the food is from, but he still finds his own failures fun. Laughing when he accidentally drops the salt shaker in the pan or when he almost burns himself. As a prince he never had mishaps in the kitchen before.

It's new, it's entertaining.

“Thank you for helping me.” you can't help but look at the bandages around his fingers, “Even though it was kind of a disaster.”

Diavolo laughs as he searches for the plates,”No no, thank you! This was a lot of fun. And we get to taste the fruit of our labor too!” he finally finds the right cabinet, “And I'm always happy to learn about the things you enjoy, like this dish.”

He might still have a lot of papers to read and sign but every once in a while he goes into the kitchen to cook the recipe he learned from you. He is extra careful while making it if he is making it for you but is more care free if it's only for himself. He also eats it when he misses you when you are unable to visit him, the same human world dish brings comfort to him as he imagines it bringing comfort to you.

Ⓒ2024

[neechees]

https://www.tumblr.com/baconvonmoose/762184790376136704/thank-you-look-i-know-people-mean-well-i-do-im?source=share

Reading all this and that's the first time ever I've seen someone say this about W*nd***.

Thought to bring this to your attention

I've always said that you'll get differing opinions about the Ice Cannibal because different groups might have differing opinions & protocol on the spirit on who can or can't say it or when, and like I've always specified I prefer it when people dont say it around ME.

But I'm kind of suspicious about this random user coming and saying "well I'm Native American" because of the way they're speaking. They say they're "a subdivision of the Algonquin" like there's no "subdivision" of the Algonquin UNLESS they're claiming to be of the Algonquin TRIBE and trying to talk about their specific community, but they don't specify it, and they seem to be equating Algonquin with Algonquian (a Language FAMILY), which is something a lot of Moniyawak & pretendians do.

Also, there's no "my tribe told the first version of the wend!g0 myth" like they claim they are, because again, multiple tribes believe in this spirit, and it'd be stupid & unfair to try claim authority on it for "the first" because we don't know who was "the first".

This user also claims that "it's a spirit that can possess people so it can look like anyone you know", I've talked with other ndns about this and there's even some debate over whether this "possession" thing is even true, at least for some tribes, because settlers were using this excuse to go and execute multiple Native people under the premise that they were "possessed" by a cannibal spirit (and how often do you think White people back then gave a shit about our spiritualities?). In many tribes, including mine, I know the ice cannibal is a spirit that exists in its own right but that also humans can turn into one.

This person is just acting like a jackass and doesn't seem to hang around other actual Native Americans who believe in our religions, because of the way they're talking, but want to act like an authority on our spiritualites. They don't even want to acknowledge that maybe they heard the "we don't say it" variation because of different beliefs in different tribes. Them calling everything I just mentioned fucking "misinformation" is itself misinformation, and completely fucking unfair of them. And the ice cannibal spirit isn't even the only spirit we do this with. We don't just avoid saying its name out of fear, it's also out of respect and protocol.

I've also never seen this person on ndn tumblr, & they don't seem to have an "ndn" tag. This might be a case of a White person suddenly claiming Native heritage to get in on a conversation that isn't theirs to have. With the way they're acting, talking about Native spirituality, etc, this sounds more like a White person with maybe some Native ancestry who doesn't actually hang around other ndns just trying to be an authority on something they have no fucking clue on & that they got all their information from white websites, because virtually everything they said was wrong.

[uncookedfeeler]

CITRUS I🍋

Yuna x Reader

Tags : 4k, light smut, incest,

Part 2??

Parenting is one of life's most transformative experiences. It is a journey filled with joy, growth, challenges and the commitment to raise and guide another human being. From the moment a child is born into the world, parents find themselves on a rollercoaster ride of endless new experiences, emotional highs and lows, and unwavering love.

Parents are caregivers, teachers and coaches, constantly trying to decipher their child's needs and feelings. While the joys of parenting are many, the challenges can be daunting. From sleepless nights with a newborn to the complexities of teenage rebellion, each stage of a child's development brings its own set of hurdles.

After more than fifty years on this planet, half of them with your wife, you're lucky enough to have a 20-year-old girl as your child. From day one she has been the ray of sunshine that lights up your life. She is the person you love most and will remain your most precious treasure until your last breath. But your relationship has changed a lot over the years. Your little princess has gone from being Daddy's little girl to a gorgeous woman who has been driving a wedge between you since she was a teenager. 

This distance has increased since she became a famous idol and now lives between the dormitory and your house, although she only stays when she wants to. 

As usual, you come home from work late in the evening and enter the lock code to get into your house. Unlike before, the lights are still out and the house is deserted. You leave your keys on the hall stand and walk into the living room, closing the SAS door behind you.

You sigh as you walk through the living room to your bedroom, the room a bit messy with some of your dirty clothes from the night before still on the tripod, you sit down on your bed to remove your tie and finally free your neck, your suit disappears and you put on more relaxed clothes. At the same time, your phone rings and you see the name of one of your colleagues on the display:

"Sorry to call so late, hope I'm not disturbing you?" says a soft voice at the other end of the line.

"Not at all, Mrs Bae, I just got home, what can I do for you?" you reply, laughing.

"The CEO wants to see you in his office tomorrow, he came by earlier but you already left, he said he wants to talk about the last contract you secured". 

"Ahahah, the old man already knows it seems, ok ok, noted I'll meet him tomorrow, have a good night Ms.Bae".

"You too, Director"

You put your phone on the bed before returning to the kitchen to prepare your meal and pour yourself a well-deserved beer. With your face still in the fridge, you hear the front door open and a familiar voice echo through the room with a simple "I'm home, I'm tired! "

You immediately know who it is and reply, "Welcome my darling, good to see you home, how was your day, are you hungry?"

Without answering, you see a young woman with red hair jumping onto the sofa. 

"Yuna, please take off your shoes before entering the house, and at least take off your jacket, it's quite warm in the house," you begin to reproach your only child.

"Daddy, please don't start, I've already lost my mind today with the girls, leave me alone!" the young woman cries in obvious annoyance.

The routine is back and you make the effort to take off her shoes while she is lying on her stomach on the sofa, you notice her outfit for the day, a black leather jacket hiding a nice white t-shirt and beige trousers, so you take the opportunity to complicate your princess. 

"That's a nice outfit, darling."

"Thank you," she replies, blushing.

You put the shoes down in the hallway next to yours and see her already absorbed in her phone, so you try to get the conversation going again:

"What happened to make my little Yuna so upset?" you say.

"I'm not 13 anymore, Dad, you can call me by my first name".

"Ah ah, sorry, Yuna".

"Those bitches stole my concept for the shoot, we had to choose a fruit and we had matching colour outfits, during the pre-shoot meeting we agreed and as luck would have it today they used their "maknae shoot last" rule and took my fruit!!! "

"Please don't shout, so what happened after that?" you try to calm her down.

"What do you think, I got to the shoot and all that was left were shitty concepts, seriously, who the fuck thinks it's sexy to have a lemon in the middle of a t-shirt, they're going to laugh so hard at me for the pictures, I'm so ashamed, I left right after the shoot," she says as she stands up and faces you.

You can see the sadness in her eyes and you want to hug her and tell her that everything will be fine, but now that she's looking at you, you realise that she probably forgot to take off the famous shirt and with great regret you put a big smile on your face, almost on the verge of tears.

"No, darling, I'm sure it's a great shirt," you reply with difficulty.

"PAPA!!!, WHY ARE YOU SNIGGERING?" the young idol cries before following your eyes to her T-shirt, her face falling as she finally realises the reason, you're so sorry, but the situation is really too funny.

As you wipe your eyes you see your princess's blood red eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and she slaps you hard in the face "I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING DIE YOU AND MOM" before running into her room, 

For the second time in your life you feel that pain, the pain you feel when you hurt someone you love, just like your wife did 7 years ago. 

The pain on your cheek is almost non-existent, unlike the pain in your heart. You admit that Yuna has become very withdrawn since your wife's departure, and that your clumsiness with her has hurt her before, but never to this extent.

On the one hand, your authority has been challenged once again, and for the first time she's dared to raise a hand to you. On the other hand, there is a deep sadness that hurts you, but also makes you deeply regret your actions.

You hear your daughter's cries through the door and, with a feeble step, you knock on the door before entering.

"Baby....i'm so sorry" you see her lying on her bed, her head in her pillow, her crying stops when she raises her head and looks at you, her face is turned upside down, her make-up has run down her face. Seeing your child like that tears your heart out, even though you're responsible.

"Just go, just go like Mum, you don't even like me, do you? I'm ashamed of you, go and die," she said in a cold, mean tone.

"Baby... "Hearing these words from your little princess hurts and brings tears to your eyes, so you get down on your knees to continue your apology.

"Forgive me," you tell her as your tears begin to fall, Yuna continues to reject you and her words only drive nails into your feelings, you've surely done the irreparable and you decide to get up and leave her room.

You have ruined your last family relationship with the person who meant the most to you. 

"I'll bring you dinner later, just rest," you say in an emotionless tone as you grab the door handle to leave.

Your steps towards the living room are slow and your body heavy, only to suddenly hear someone running behind you, the door slamming against the wall, and feel your sweet daughter's body against your back as she tries to wrap her arms around you.

"PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME SORRY," the red one cries with all her hot tears.

You drop to your knees and take your only child in your arms and hold her close, her head is under your chin as she buries herself in your neck, you stroke her head with one hand while the other pats her back, her arms struggle to wrap around your waist but she clings tightly to you.

"I'm sorry darling, I'm sorry for everything, just let it go now, Daddy's here, I won't leave you, ever"

"Daddy, I'm sorry, I love you"

"I love you too, sweetheart"

You stay like this for many minutes before you plant a loving kiss on her forehead, a sign of your unconditional love for her. She's your treasure and the most important woman in your life.

Yuna's red eyes shine into yours and the young idol plants her lips on yours, the sensation is sweet and pleasant, you are morally in a dilemma, never in a million years would you have imagined kissing your daughter like this, but on the other hand you tell yourself that she's probably had too much rejection for today and is just trying to express her love for me. 

You allow your daughter to express her desires and she wraps her arms around your neck as you hold her kiss, her tongue meets yours in a first dance, the heat in the corridor rises as her body crashes against yours, you feel her small breasts against your chest and her perfume floods your nostrils.

"Yu..na," you try to stop her, tapping her shoulder as she literally tries to eat your lips.

The young idol slowly pulls back, leaving a trickle of drool between your two mouths. You see an incredibly sexy woman, her hair a mess, her breathing heavy and hot, her hands on your chest burning and her eyes devouring you like a hungry tigress.

"The redhead doesn't know what to say when she realises what she's done, her face turning scarlet as she rests her forehead on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault, are you tired?

She nods as you carry her to her room and tuck her into bed, one last kiss before sending your little princess off to dreamland.

"Good night, baby," you say to her as she seems to have gone far away.

.

.

.

The night was harder than expected, and after a light dinner you went to bed with your head still full of the events of the evening, a flurry of emotions running through your body and mind, and faster than you could have imagined, the morning light appeared through your window.

It's almost 7am and you're getting ready for a long day. As soon as you wake up, your body starts to show its age and it takes you a long time to get dressed and get out of your room and into the kitchen. You decide on a quick, simple breakfast of fried egg and rice, and with this morning's appointment, you'll be ready to go in no time, having filled up on vitamins for the day despite your fatigue. As you prepare this, you hear Yuna's bedroom door open and see your daughter come into the kitchen, still wearing her white T-shirt, but her beige trousers have been replaced by blue shorts.

"Morning dad," she says shyly.

"Hi honey, no schedule today?"

"Not this morning," she replies quickly, shaking her head.

Neither of you seem comfortable with the conversation and you do your best to avoid meeting her gaze and vice versa. You discreetly exchange glances and smiles, the redhead in front of you is beautiful and you find yourself ogling her.

You continue to prepare breakfast, making sure you have enough for your daughter. The only exchange you've had since is asking her if she wants a coffee, which she refuses. You see her hovering around the table as if she wants to talk, then she finally gets up and goes behind your back to the fridge.

Then you look back over your shoulder, feel Yuna's embrace around your waist as she buries her face in your back, feel the warmth of her breath again and put your hands on hers.

"Are you all right, darling?"

"I'm sorry dad, my head has been on fire since yesterday, my body has been on fire since I saw you this morning, I just wanted to tell you that I love you very much," she answers as she places kisses on your spine.

You feel the tenderness of her lips on your skin as Yuna gently lifts your work shirt, you say nothing, letting your daughter express her feelings as Yuna's gentle attacks send electric shocks down your back.

"Please look at me," she says as she forces you to turn around, pulling you by your hips until your bottom is resting on the edge of the kitchen counter, face to face with your daughter, who is staring at you for the first time this morning.

Her eyes were trembling and she asked you in a soft, frightened voice: "Tell me you love me, Daddy", while she pressed her body against yours. You felt her soft breasts against your chest and she put her hands on the back of your neck. Your daughter brings her lips to yours, her eyes closed, waiting for you to confirm your feelings.

At this point your morality as a father is the only obstacle standing in the way of this relationship, your daughter may not realise it but it is an immoral relationship waiting to happen, your daughter is still looking for a way to fill the hole in her heart, the love of her members doesn't seem to be working for her and now she is relying on you, her father, to give her what she needs, it is a difficult choice but you are letting yourself be swallowed by the devil, your daughter's happiness is what matters.

You cupped her cheek with one hand before pressing your lips to hers as Yuna melted under the pressure of her emotions, you rediscovered the sensation of love and laid your daughter on the counter while maintaining the kiss.

Your daughter is now sitting on the worktop, the difference in height bringing her face level with yours, she grabs the back of your hair to pull you towards her, her legs wrapped around your hips, your lips still locked as your tongues meet again.

When the seal is finally broken, both your breaths are heavy and noisy, each under the hypnosis of its own pleasure, while your eyes are full of sparkles and plunge into each other's. Your princess's eyes shed small tears, which you hastily wipe away with your finger before giving her a long kiss on the forehead.

Daddy, my heart is going to explode,' she says as she takes your hand to her breast with her t-shirt, the feeling is even better than you had imagined, her small breasts are firm and pleasant to touch, as you gently knead her breasts, the young woman makes little moans that express the pleasure she is receiving.

"Yuna... do you like what Daddy is doing?"

She nods "I want to feel your hand on my skin," she replies as she takes both your hands and places them under her t-shirt, right on her breasts.

"Do you like my lemons daddy? squeeze them hard please" Yuna's sexy face and her words echo in your brain as your hands work on her juicy fruit.

The tension in the room rises and you place your mouth on her little lemon, which you have been kneading for a few minutes, you attack her nipple with your tongue while you suck, hoping to suck something, you alternate your hands, now covered with little red spots, your daughter moans with pleasure and prevents you from withdrawing.

"Daddy, suck on them, play with my little lemons that you love so much, they're yours".

All this excitement had made you hot and a knot had formed in your trousers. Your lips left her two Susson-marked mounds and now attacked her defenceless neck, licking it from bottom to top, following her carotid artery and planting long kisses under her jaw, making her tremble before she gently pushed you away.

"Dad, let me take care of you too, I've been feeling your lump on my leg for a while now".

Your daughter begins to unbuckle your belt, then your trousers, until she can finally see your underpants and cock. Then your daughter puts her hand on the front of your briefs to rub your cock, and you see her other hand go down her shorts, probably to check the state of her briefs.

"I'm soaking wet, keep playing with my tits and come and touch me down there while I take care of you".

Your daughter's hand reaches through your shorts and grabs your cock to stroke it gently, on your side you slide one of your hands up her thigh to her panties and rub her slit directly against her skin, she's wet and you can feel a small bush above her entrance, you wiggle your fingers up and down, taking the opportunity to go back and kiss your princess who moans at your actions.

Yuna's technique isn't the best, but who can blame her, the poor thing is fighting against her own body and the way she arched her back as you delicately knocked on her pussy door, freeing her lips from your kiss, the young idol expressed with volume what she was feeling,

♥Hmm....♥Ah....Papa, continue ♥Hmm, ah....♥

Your daughter's moans are like music to your ears and she quickly lets you know that her orgasm is coming as your fingers begin to penetrate her pussy from the inside, you feel little spasms running down her body and her pussy dripping with wetness, as you pull your fingers out you see the deception in her eyes before devouring her with your mouth, forcing her to let go of your cock in the process. 

Your cock is extremely hard after Yuna's work but your pleasure is not your priority as your tongue slides up and down your daughter's slit, her juices are delicious and you suck them in to capture the taste of her naughty hole in your memory. Her grip on your thin hair is powerful and she blocks your head with her legs as you finally hear the release.

"Daddy, I'm going to come, it's happening, da..." before she can finish her own sentence, stopped by her pleasure, Yuna comes all over your now wet face and falls onto her back on the worktop.

"Are you OK, sweetie?" you ask her, a little worried as she suddenly falls backwards, the pressure of her legs freeing you and you see a close-up of your daughter lying on her back in front of you, her face red and wrung out, her hair falling in the air on the other side of the table, her breasts exposed and marked by your many hickeys and her pretty pink pussy that you've just finished devouring.

You grab both her hands and pull her towards you so that she's at your full height, then you take her in your arms as if you were comforting a small child.

"You're so hard daddy, you can do it if you want to," she says with a little hesitation and tired eyes, then you notice that your cock is at the same height as her pussy.

The choice seems obvious but at the same time you don't want to take it lightly and spoil the moment, the lack of time and place is not what you want to give your princess who is offering herself to you so you shake your head in refusal then plant a long kiss on her lips.

"Not now baby, another time," you reply as you start to pull away from her, only to feel her hand holding you back.

"At least let me make you feel better, I want to make you feel better too," she says as she grabs your cock and starts to jerk it like before.

"Do you like it when I rub your naughty cock? Why does a father turn on his daughter so much?" Yuna tries to be provocative to arouse you, but the tone is off and her lack of experience is glaring, you just smile under your daughter's true words.

Your orgasm builds as Yuna experiments with your cock, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible. You put your hands on her tits again and play with them, which doesn't seem to bother her, far from it.

.

.

"Daddy?"

.

.

"Yes, sweetie?

.

.

"You know ... if you want my lemons to give you their juice, you'll have to give me yours first," she said, pointing to her pussy.

The image crosses your mind, the image of a father and daughter kissing the fruit of their forbidden love, a father giving his love to his daughter and a daughter giving birth to that love, your excitement and shame explode as your cock comes to paint the lower part of your daughter's body, her pussy and thighs marked by your essence.

I'm sorry, I'll clean you up,' you say, looking for something to wipe your cum-filled daughter with.

"It's OK, I'll do it myself,' she says as she scoops up the white liquid and brings it to her mouth.

Any young man would have been revitalised to see such a beautiful woman collecting cum on her body, but your cock is now in a less than glorious state and you pull up your trousers, taking care to get dressed.

"It's almost time darling, I have to go," you tell her as you haven't eaten or slept well, it's going to be a long day.

"Wait," she replies as she approaches you, still naked, "don't forget my goodbye kiss," as she presses her lips hard against yours, then whispers, "we'll continue tonight, I love you.

Your body and mind may be in bad shape, but knowing your princess will be there for you tonight fills your heart with a feeling you've been missing.

Later, in your car on the way to work, you get a notification that someone you're following has just started a live stream, obviously it's Yuna, she's the only one you follow, you pick up the stream on the way, but enough to hear your daughter say

My favourite fruit? mhhhhhhhhhh that's a good question, I'll go with lemon, it's a sweet fruit like me and TMI, but my dad loves lemons'.

______________________________________________________________

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage October 2024 Issue Kamen Rider Gavv ft. Chinen Hidekazu & Sugihara Teruaki (translations below)

Publication: September 10, 2024

The Strange Sweets Kamen Rider

The 6th Reiwa Kamen Rider is the first ever to use a sweets motif! The cast and staff talk about the behind the scenes of the birth of the new hero who fascinates us with a gap between poppin visuals and its heavy filling!!

Having passed out due to hunger, Shouma, who comes from another world, was saved by a human boy named Hiroi Hajime. Shouma was in a difficult situation when he confronts the Granute, a monster who wants to kill Hajime, but when he "sets & eats" the familiar like creatures called Gochizo in the mouth on his stomach, he transforms into Kamen Rider Gavv and crushes the Granute. This was the beginning of Shouma's battle to protect humans.

The latest entry in the Kamen Rider series, "Kamen Rider Gavv" only just started in September. Despite the poppin imagery and visuals of sweets as its motif, this is a hard and serious drama that depicts the lonely battle of a young man named Shouma, who hides a grand past and mystery behind him.

This production features Takebe Naomi-san as the Producer, Sugihara-san as the pilot Director who determines the direction of the work, Komura Junko-san as Screenwriter, and Fujita Satoshi-san as Action Director, all of whom have worked on the Kamen Rider and Super Sentai series. In particular, Sugihara-san and Komura-san are the pair that gained attention for their work in "Kaitou Sentai Lupinranger VS Keisatsu Sentai Patranger" and the fans are expressing their expectations.

The story of a fierce battle between the sweets Kamen Rider and the Granute monsters has only just begun, so don't miss a moment of the birth of a new Kamen Rider legend! _

Chinen Hidekazu (Shouma)

The first transformation born from an extreme situation

-Supported by dependable friends and the Director-

"Please tell us your impression of the Kamen Rider series."

Chinen: For me, I've admired Kamen Riders since I was a child, and I love them so much that they're the first thing that comes to mind when people ask, "Who's your hero?" I've lived my whole life dreaming of becoming a Kamen Rider, so I was really happy when I was chosen to be Shouma.

"Are there any works that you find particularly memorable?"

Chinen: It's hard to pick a single work from my generation since I'm so attached to all of them, but……I think "Kamen Rider OOO" might be the one I was particularly enthusiastic about when watching. The dialogue between Hino Eiji and Ankh was interesting, and even as a child the ending made me think, so including its theme song, it's my favorite work. Lately however, I've been super into "Kamen Rider Den-O" (laughs). I'm watching it from the perspective of learning why it became so popular, but I also like Den-O because of Satoh Takeru's (who plays Nogami Ryotaro) amazing performance in which he plays multiple different personalities.

"What kind of person do you feel Shouma is?"

Chinen: I read the script so much that it felt like I was watching myself, as I thought that Shouma was so similar to me. We're very similar in the way that we're abit out of the loop, but also curious and get into the things that interest us. I was glued to the TV when I was a child, and I'd become so engrossed when watching it, that I couldn't even listen to what my mother was saying. However, I feel like I'm far removed from him in terms of his guts and inner strength, his desire to save people even at the risk of his own life, and his ability to fight the enemy. Playing the role of Shouma gives me energy and makes me aspire to be like him.

"We think another feature of this production is that right now, Shouma doesn't have a fixed place to stay, and that he comes into contact with a variety of people wherever he goes."

Chinen: I think alot of people are curious to see what happens next, as so far in Gavv, the story continues to be dominated by Shouma's easygoingness and the fact that we don't know what he's thinking. He seems to have a connection with Sachika-san, who he met in episode 2, so what happens to them in the future is a big point to watch out for!

"Please tell us your impressions of Sachika and the person who plays her, Miyabe Nozomi-san."

Chinen: Miyabe-san is a very refined person, so when we first met at script reading, I was shocked and said, "This person's gonna be a gyaru?!" (laughs). One of the things I like about Miyabe-san is that her mannerisms show the quality of her upbringing, but the more we talked, she really started to look like a gyaru, and I felt that performing together with her was amazing. Sachika-san leaves a strong impression of being a gyaru, but on the inside, she's a stable girl who's able to understand the feelings of others. Seeing her say with a refreshing smile, "I think it's good for everyone to be happy," Shouma respects her and thinks, "She's such a wonderful person" and "I want to be like her," almost like she's the embodiment of peace. When I read the script, I always feel supported and say, "Sachika-san, thank you."

"Shouma's brother sister like relationship with her is also very interesting."

Chinen: Director Sugihara Teruaki said to me, "It's like a dog and his owner" (laughs). Still, I think that Sachika-san's all encompassing kindness, and Shouma's simple mindedness are a great combination, and we're also playing the roles with confidence.

"He's yet to interact with Shouma, but we think the role Hanto plays will also be another highlight to look forward to."

Chinen: In some ways, Hanto is also easygoing, but he's the compassionate, hot blooded type, and he too lives by carrying something on his back. I hope you'll look forward to seeing how Shouma and Hanto, who are completely different types of people, interact with each other and what they'll think of each other in their first meeting. Hino Yusuke-kun, who plays Hanto, is the mood maker who makes the set feel relaxed, which is a gap between him and Hanto, but I feel that we're similar in our passion for the production and performance, and the way we put our all into something. To me, Hino-kun is a rival but also like a reliable big brother, and we often consult with each other and visit each other's houses (laughs).

"What were your impressions of Director Sugihara, who also directed the first two episodes as the pilot Director?"

Chinen: As I had no experience in acting, Director Sugihara is a respected teacher who taught me how to perform from the ground up, including how to read the script, and he's like a father figure from Tokyo. He understands each actor's personality and gives them advice accordingly, and he's an amazing person who draws out our potential, so every time I'm on set, I feel happy to film under Director Sugihara. He's a Director I really love.

"Before filming, it seems that you and the Director practiced vocalization together."

Chinen: Yes, even before I could act, my voice wouldn't come out (laughs). I'm really grateful that he took time out of his busy schedule to watch me one on one, and it was an important turning point that led to something changing in me. I want to grow so that people will feel that I'll have changed over the coming year, and one of my goals is to give an inspiring performance that'll be recognized by Director Sugihara with, "You gave it your all."

-Aiming to be as cool as Nawata-san-

"Kamen Rider Gavv, who Shouma transforms into, has a motif based on gummies and other sweets."

Chinen: When I saw the illustration depicted in the proposal, I thought it was incredibly simple, however, my opinion changed when I saw it in person. The armor on the chest and shoulders have a gradient so that it shines beautifully when light hits it, and there's a playful gimmick where a squishy dent will form when it's pressed, so a bunch of detail has been carefully put into it. I'm now so attached to it, that I can't think of anyone else but Gavv. Personally, what I want you to pay attention to the most are the feet. The feet are actually clawed, and this slightly animal like aspect is an important element of the show, so I'd be happy if you make sure to pay attention to the feet as well.

"What's your impression of Nawata Yuya-san, Gavv's Suit Actor?"

Chinen: Nawata-san is an actor who I shape Shouma together with, and he's an indispensable person to me, as I'm able to talk to him about problems that I can't talk about with the other cast members or the Director. He also taught me about acting, like how to create the mood and how to read the script. I'm grateful to Nawata-san's action, as I think Gavv's appeal has tripled, and I feel like the show itself has also become more brilliant.

"Does that also get you enthusiastic about the post transformation dub recording?"

Chinen: That's right. The recording process is more difficult than normal acting because you have to use only your voice to express your emotions and fight scenes in accordance with the footage. In episodes 1 and 2, I had to rerecord so many times that I lost the strength in my voice, and it took twice as long as the planned time (bitter smile). As well as the performances of my seniors in the Kamen Rider series, I also studied the game "Street Fighter" based on the advice of Director Sugihara, and now I feel like I'm getting by. I'll work more diligently to make Nawata-san's performance 120% more appealing with my voice performance, and to become a Shouma who's just as cool after his transformation into Gavv.

"One of the real thrills of the Kamen Rider series are the transformation scenes, but how did you create the pose?"

Chinen: The transformation pose was decided through a discussion between myself, Action Director Fujita Satoshi, Director Sugihara, and Nawata-san. It's a movement that involves rotating your arm, but the final version, which we created after discussing the angles and timing with everyone to make sure it looked cool and appealing, is the transformation pose used in episode 2. Depending on the story, he could transform quickly, so I hope people watch the way he changes based on the situation.

"In the episodes up to this point, the action leading up to the first transformation in the first episode is a scene that can't be ignored when talking about Shouma. There was some action involving wires, and we were also impressed by his performance as he was gradually being cornered by the Granute."

Chinen: That scene was prepared weeks before the shoot, as Director Sugihara and Action Director Fujita came up with a really cool direction. The scene where Shouma is beaten was especially important to give depth to the reason for his transformation, as it took two days to film. In the end, it was in the most extreme situation I had ever experienced in my life, my performance came out unconsciously, and I was complemented with, "Your facial expressions were very good." I could've never done it on my own, the scene was made possible by the advice of Director Sugihara and Nawata-san, who worked beside me, and by all the staff members who created an environment that allowed me to concentrate on my performance.

"It makes us want to go back and pay attention to the expressions on your face. Finally, please tell us your goals throughout filming of Kamen Rider Gavv."

Chinen: I'd like to learn alot about action from Action Director Fujita, Nawata-san and everyone else on the Action Team, and I'd like to improve my acting skills. I've never been in an environment where I could spend an entire year with people who are so good at captivating others, and I don't think it'll ever happen again in the future. I hope to make full use of this experience so that in the next year, I can be an actor who can do it all, from acting to action and recording, so I'll do my best to do what's in front me!

Director Sugihara Teruaki

The vibrant world Shouma comes across

-A dark story with colorful visuals-

"When did you first hear that you'd be the pilot Director?"

Sugihara: I'm pretty sure it was around last Fall, when I was working on the drama, "Tokyo MPD: From Zero to Hero," I received a phone call from Producer Takebe Naomi-san who said, "I'd like to meet and talk with you at once." I heard from a separate matter that Takebe-san would be in charge of the next Kamen Rider, and at the time, I thought I was going to be the second Director, but when I met her, she said, "You're the pilot Director." (laughs).

"At the stage when Director Sugihara joined, how much of the content in the show was decided on?"

Sugihara: Aside from the sweets and monsters motif, we'd yet to decide on the content of the story and the personalities and relationships of the characters. In the beginning, we were a small group consisting of the Producer team's Takebe-san and Takishima Minami-san, Screenwriter Komura Junko-san, and myself. Our three parties worked out the content by sharing ideas from our respective perspectives.

"What specific ideas did Director Sugihara have in mind? Personally, we felt that the visuals of the characters, including their costumes, incorporated the Director's ideas."

Sugihara: You can assume that I'm basically in charge of visual aspects like the impression and fashion. For Shouma's fashion in particular, during the rather early stages, I'd draw an illustration and say, "How about something like this?," and I'd have them look at it while I created his character.

"Not just Shouma's clothes, but also the interior of Hapipare is rich in color, so much so that it's unusual for the Kamen Rider series."

Sugihara: I told artist Fukuzawa Katsuhiro that I wanted to make the visuals as bright and pop as much as possible. Kamen Rider Gavv itself isn't meant to be a continuation of the "ism" seen in the first generation of Kamen Rider, but it includes themes like family conflict and Shouma's sad separation from his mother, so the content is heavy. Because of this, we made the impression of the colors vivid, and were careful to not make them too dark. Moreover, being in the human world for the first time, Shouma's a kid who's impressed by everything he sees, so I was conscious of the world captured from Shouma's point of view and to use rather flashy colors. Conversely, the Granute World and Stomach Family use muted colors, or to just say it outright, they have dirty colors.

"What do you value in your expression of Shouma, the main character?"

Sugihara: I wanted to depict Shouma as a pure kid, someone who suddenly comes to the human world and finds everything he sees as fresh. On the inside, he's not much different from Hajime, who he first meets in the human world, in fact, he's much more of a child than that kid. So he ponders over what he's been told, hurt by the casual mention of "monster" and afraid of hurting others, he's unable to be together with someone else, so he leaves Hajime and Sachika and goes elsewhere. However, I didn't want to make it too dark, so it was hard to depict (laughs). While he carries a dark side, I want him to be a kid who's always smiling when he's with someone, even if he has to force himself to smile.

"This Shouma is beautifully embodied by Chinen Hidekazu-san."

Sugihara: The best thing about Chinen-kun is that he looks great on camera. That's the kind of talent an actor has. Also, the expressions on his face when he eats are really good. Even though he's eating food he usually sees all the time, he eats it like it's a delicacy, looking as if he's eating something he's never seen before and is impressed. In that sense, I think he was the right choice to play Shouma. Still, since this is roughly his first performance, he had to start from a place where he couldn't express his emotions properly, and to begin with, he couldn't even vocalize. I had Chinen-kun stand on one end of Toei's rooftop, and I stood on the opposite end and had him deliver his lines. I gave him relentless acting instruction from the very beginning (laughs). Filming started earlier than usual, so we've already shot several episodes, and I feel that he can now stand proudly in front of the camera as Shouma. With each episode his performance and facial expressions are getting better and better. I have high expectations for his growth over the next year.

-Dedicated action that make the most of the motif-

"We felt that the vibes of Gavv's everyday scenes were different from that of previous Kamen Rider series, but was there anything you were conscious of in your direction?"

Sugihara: In my mind, I had a bright, pop like feeling, but during filming, Chinen-kun……it was important to me how to capture Shouma and the human world from his point of view. I may have only been thinking, "How can I get a good shot of him?"

"In that sense, it's interesting to think that the entire production is being pulled along by Shouma and Chinen-san."

Sugihara: That's right. This is especially true for the first episode, as the story unfolds from Shouma's point of view, so I was conscious of the fact that I wanted to bring the viewers perspective as close as possible to Shouma's.

"Despite the battle scenes also having a fancy sweets motif, from the very first episode, we were taken back by the intense physical battle depicted between Gavv and the Granute."

Sugihara: I'm pretty sure it was Action Director Fujita Satoshi who put out the idea of a serious fistfight at a container warehouse, and with sword fighting in a narrow space. We specified the colors and placement of the containers, and asked the people on location to arrange them accordingly. From there, Fujita and I talked in detail about the composition of the action, and we put it together by discussing the angles while adding in our own ideas as we filmed on site.

"We heard that you and Fujita-san worked closely together to create this."

Sugihara: I also like action quite abit, so I tell Fujita various things like, "Do this sort of thing." Naturally, Fujita has alot of things he wants to do as well, so the two of us are working together to come up with ideas for action sequences and angles.

"Including Gavv's own actions, the way he fights while "eating" the Gochizo is unique."

Sugihara: It was decided in advance that the transformation items Gochizo would appear alot like that of "Pikmin" and "Minions," so I thought it'd be better to use alot of them. Because of that, when Gavv takes damage, his armor breaks and he'll eat the Gochizo one after another……we're calling it "follow up sweets," and I think it'd be interesting to keep changing sweets and repair them as he fights.

"The standard Poppingummy Form has flexible armor, while Zakuzakuchips Form's sword weapon can easily break depending on how it's used, and the use of sweets as a motif was also visually enjoyable."

Sugihara: Inspiration for the action comes from discussions that are almost like casual conversations. I thought about how things like thin baked snacks such as potato chips might be weak to side attacks (laughs). Also, unlike other Kamen Riders, we don't use bullet impacts on Gavv when we depict him being hit (mechanism that detonates gunpowder that's attached to the performer). In his setup, the armor is derived from sweets generated by his own body, so we tried to create the effect of small bead like things flying around him. During filming, we've been throwing beads into the air from the side of the camera. In that sense, it may have a new visual feel.

"What scenes from episodes 1 and 2 were particularly powerful?"

Sugihara: In terms of taking the most time, I'd say it was before the transformation in the first episode. When I was thinking about Shouma's human image, Takebe-san said, "I don't want him to be a hero who fights just because he has powers." You don't fight just because you have the power to become a Kamen Rider, there's a will to fight, and that's where the power comes in. I wanted to create an image of a hero who's able to transform into Gavv because it's Shouma. Since the time of the script meeting, we had talked about how we wanted to portray a different kind of strength from that of the everyday Shouma, who keeps going despite being beaten up by someone he can't even stand up to. On set, Chinen-kun and I worked together to find out why Shouma was feeling that way, and we worked on his facial expressions and gestures one by one, and I was quite persistent throughout filming. We were supposed to film the transformation scene in one day, but we took too long and didn't get to the transformation, so I had to apologize to the staff (laughs).

"Finally, please tell us your enthusiasm for the future."

Sugihara: Honestly, I have no idea how Kamen Rider Gavv will conclude a year from now, but I want to make a show that'll make people who watched it think, "Gavv was interesting." For this reason, I'd also like to delve deeper into Shouma and Hanto, and Sachika and the others characters, and to make each of them appealing. I'm sure that Komura-san will come up with some great developments (laughs), and for my part, I hope that I can take advantage of that, and as the pilot Director for the first time in a long time, to create images that people watching in their living rooms have never seen before.

[mxtxfanatic]

A lot of people say that Wei Wuxian's demonic cultivation is inherently disrespectful to the dead. I personally disagree but I'm not really sure how to say that, especially when they bring up how he treated the ghosts for the war or the torture session.

It's confusing 😔

Ok, to answer this question, we must first cover the basics of both what Wei Wuxian's cultivation is and how cultivators deal with the resentful dead in the orthodox path. 1) Wei Wuxian is not s demonic cultivator. He is a ghost cultivator, hence why his cultivation path is called "the ghost path" and why the title of the novel is a misnomer. The cultivation world calling him a "demonic" cultivator is meant as a slander of his work, not a neutral description of it:

“Let me ask you, are fae, demons, ghosts, and monsters all the same kind of being?” Wei Wuxian smiled. “No.” “Why not? What are the differences between them?” “Fae come from living non-humans, demons from living humans, ghosts from dead humans, and monsters from dead non-humans.”

—Chapt. 13: Elegance III, fanyiyi

By definition, Wei Wuxian is not a demonic cultivator, and every cultivator is taught this distinction from a young age. Moving on, 2) this is how orthodox cultivators deal with the resentful dead:

[Lan Wangji] nodded his head politely, and quietly said, “First, release the spirit from suffering. Second, suppress it. Third, eliminate it. For the initial approach, use the loving memory of his parents, wife, and children to comprehend his deepest desires and fulfill them. If this fails, move to suppression. But if the crimes are too great and his resentment too bitter to dissipate, eliminate him root and branch; his continued existence must not be permitted. Cultivators must conduct themselves carefully in accordance with this sequence of measures, without error.”

—Chapt. 14: Elegance IV, fanyiyi

The ideal goal of dealing with the resentful dead is that you get them to move on. That is why these are not three separate paths but a single route:

Lan Wangji said, “Thus release from suffering is the primary strategy, suppression, supplementary, and elimination, the last resort.”

However, only the first part of this route leads to peace for the suffering spirit; the other two either lead to prolonged suffering or utter destruction. Wei Wuxian's ghost path opens up a second route, the so-called fourth solution:

Everyone inside the elegant room stared at them in shock. The old man suddenly shot up. “The purpose of subduing demons and exterminating ghosts is to alleviate suffering! Not only have you forgotten this, you want to incite further resentment! You are inverting the means and the ends, without a care for humanity!” “If some people’s suffering can’t be relieved, why not make it useful?” Wei Wuxian replied. “When Yu the Great tamed the floods, redirection was the superior strategy, and obstruction the inferior. Suppression is like obstruction, it can only be worse—” Lan Qiren flung a book at Wei Wuxian, who quickly ducked out of the way. The color of his face unchanged, he continued to run his mouth. “Spiritual energy is energy, but resentful energy is also energy. Stored inside cores, spiritual energy is able to cleave mountains and drain seas, and is available for human use. Why can’t humans use resentful energy too?”

The end goal remains the same as the orthodox path's, just with the addition of using the dead's resentment to achieve your own goals in the meantime. To say that Wei Wuxian "creates" the resentment by which he then controls the dead he summons is to ignore that he actually can't create resentment and must rely on the resentment the dead already have. We learn this in the opening chapters of the book at the Mo Mansion where he must summon the corpses of the Mo family to fight because the other walking corpses that were already in the house had too little resentment to be useful. It's even in this very example of him pitching the theoretics of the ghost path: he doesn't say "just dig up any corpse" but specifically that the heads of those executed by the executioner (and therefore who would have resentment remaining in death) should be dug up to deal with the fierce corpse of their killer. And when everyone has burned off their resentment, it goes without saying that it would be easy to liberate them.

Now to address the whole war time torture session stuff: if we remember what I just said about Wei Wuxian being unable to create resentment and that in his speech he believes that the best dead to summon in order to subdue another resentful being are the dead who were killed by the being, then the fates of the Wen involved in the fall of Lotus Pier makes sense. Wei Wuxian does not control any of the dead like puppets, as explained here, so the ghosts got their own revenge themselves. It's not accidental that every Wen supervisory post was covered in ghost repellent talismans where none existed previously. As for the ghoul child and blue-faced woman, they had some sort of history with each other and Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao that probably wouldn't be too hard to guess:

[Wang Lingjiao] collapsed onto the ground. Back then, the second that she opened the chest, she saw what was inside. There was none of her beloved treasures, only a pale-skinned, curled-up child!

—Chapt. 61: Evil, exr

The ghoul child, however, had bit out an entire chunk of the flesh on his hand and spat it out. He continued to devour the palm. Wen ZhuLiu grabbed the child’s head with his left hand, as though to put so much force on the small, cold head that it exploded. The blue- faced woman threw the bloodstained bandages on the ground and, like a four-limbed creature, she crawled to Wen ZhuLiu’s side almost instantly.

...

Wei WuXian, “Of course it’d be with a certain thing gone.” Jiang Cheng was disgusted, “You’re the one who did it?” Wei WuXian, “It’s nasty if you think about it that way. Of course I wasn’t the one who cut it off. It was bitten off when his woman went mad.”

—Chapt. 62: Evil, exr

"His woman" can't be Wang Lingjiao, because Wang Lingjiao died suffocating on the stool leg she stuffed down her throat. When Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji find her body, the stool leg is still halfway out of her mouth. "His woman" is the blue-faced woman, who obviously holds extreme enmity towards Wen Chao. It's the same situation when Wei Wuxian resurrects Wen Ning:

Wei WuXian, “Congratulations to you for successfully draining all my patience. Since you don’t want to speak up, let’s let him answer on his own.” As though it’d been waiting for his words for a long time, Wen Ning’s frozen corpse suddenly moved, raising its head. Before the two nearest inspectors could even scream, each of their throats was clenched by a hand as firm as iron. Expressionless, Wen Ning raised up the two short-legged inspectors high in the air. The empty circle around them grew larger and larger. The head inspector shouted, “Young Master Wei! Young Master Wei! Please go easy on us! Doing this in the heat of the moment would lead to irreversible consequences!” The rain fell heavier and heavier. Drops of water trickled incessantly down Wei WuXian’s cheeks. He suddenly spun around, putting his hand on Wen Ning’s shoulder before shouting, “Wen QiongLin!” As if a reply, Wen Ning let out a long, thundering roar. The ears of everyone within the valley ached. Wei WuXian spoke one word at a time, “Whoever caused all of you to be like this, let them meet the same end. I give you the right to do so. Settle everything!”

—Chapt. 72: Recklessness, exr

Wei Wuxian didn't "make" them do anything; he just corralled them and focused their resentment.

While Wei Wuxian is being very glib in his Cloud Recesses discussion—because it was an on-the-fly theory posed specifically to piss Lan Qiren off—the way he uses it in practice is actually much more contained. He also, personally, treats the dead more respectfully than most other cultivators, who react to the presence of non-aggressive dead with violence or disgust (reread how he interacts with the ghoul child and blue-faced woman, or the ghost girls in the restaurant, or the skeleton hand, or A-Qing, etc. etc.). So to answer your question: no, Wei Wuxian's ghost path does not disrespect the dead. It gives those with too much resentment or a who have a grudge too difficult to fulfill another way to burn off their resentment in order to achieve peace. While an individual can use it disrespectfully (Xue Yang, who uses it as a basis for his demonic cultivation), it is not inherently disrespectful in and of itself.

[cityofmeliora]

notes / thoughts on the Papas' (lack of) involvement in the songwriting process and their connections to the concepts / themes of their albums

thanks for the kind words and thanks for the ask! these were great questions and really enjoyed writing this response. your questions really made me think! (and when i start thinking i always think too hard and take forever to answer– sorry this took so long!)

i'm putting these questions together because i feel they are closely related. this is a topic i've recently been thinking about a lot, actually.

A Ghoul Writer was first mentioned in that 2010 interview with Primo. the Ghoul Writer is Special Ghoul, the Nameless Ghoul character who gave interviews in Eras 2 and 3. in interviews with him, either he himself or the interviewers would usually mention he's the Writer. i'm not linking anything specific here because you can find this happening in pretty much any Era 2 / 3 interview. (though there's one Era 2 Nameless Ghoul interview that refers to the Writer as a separate character.)

the only Papa who wrote his own music was Nihil. the music video for The Future Is A Foreign Land shows that he and his Nameless Ghouls wrote the song together, and he's credited as a writer on Seven Inches Of Satanic Panic. (pic: back of the SIOSP record)

after Nihil, none of the Papas were involved in the songwriting process. everything after Nihil was written by A Ghoul Writer.

PITCHFORK: On the new album, the songs/lyrics are credited to "A Ghoul Writer." Are you this "Ghoul Writer"? If so, what inspired the words? PAPA EMERITUS: I am not the Ghoul Writer. Pitchfork (April 2013)

Does Papa contribute to the composing process? NAMELESS GHOUL: No, Papa doesn’t contribute to the song-writing. Metal Paths (August 2015)

so the later Papas were interpreters of the music, not writers.

as for the question of whether the Papas embody the sins of society or criticize the sins of society by parodying them, i think it's a bit of both– and i think it depends on which perspective we're looking from.

obviously from a real-world perspective, Ghost as a whole is meant to criticize and parody the issues the music is about, and the personality and characterization of each Papa is closely tied to the themes of his album.

from an in-universe lore perspective, as interpreters of the music, each Papa has his own relationship with the themes of his album. i think the Ghoul Writer writes each album for / about the Papa who's going to perform it. however, this is not necessarily a positive gesture.

here are my notes / thoughts on how each Papa relates to the themes of his album:

(trigger warning for mentions of misogynistic violence / rape / forced pregnancy)

Opus Eponymous and Primo: Primo refuses to comment on his interpretation of Opus Eponymous, but it's pretty clear what he thinks. Primo is a misanthrope who believes humans are “vermin” that have doomed themselves due to their “intellectual decline”. in his eyes, humanity is unworthy of life and will eventually be destroyed. Opus Eponymous has been described as an "orthodox devil-worshipping" album, and it is a very violent album, which is great for Primo because he's an orthodox devil worshiper and he loves violence and murder and wants everyone to die. 'Elizabeth' celebrates an alleged serial killer who is said to have killed hundreds of women / girls. 'Stand By Him' is about a woman being raped by a priest, who then accuses her of witchcraft and has her burned at the stake in order to cover up the assault. and the overall narrative of Opus Eponymous is about a woman being raped and forced to carry + birth the Antichrist, which will eventually kill her. this is something Primo thinks is good and anticipates happening because he believes in the cult very literally and agrees with its message / mission of human extinction. Primo is definitely a villain.

Infestissumam and Secondo: interestingly, there is actually an instance of Papa telling us about his interpretation of this album. in Secondo's own words, "the new album is about the presence of the Devil. The title, Infestissumam, means 'the biggest threat' and refers literally to the arrival of the Antichrist, but what it is also is about is what man has traditionally regarded as diabolical presence– namely female form and swagger." Infestissumam is about how humanity can connect to the presence of the Devil, both physically and spiritually. i think this theme really shows through Secondo. to him, all the things traditionally regarded as sin –especially sexuality– are good things. to him, Satan is the way to freedom and enlightenment. on the flipside, all the things promoted by christianity –holiness and virtue and repression– are stupid and stifling. Secondo is a jerk and he loves to have sex and party and he just doesn't care. Secondo, more than any other Papa, is dedicated to indulging in sin and saying "fuck you" to christianity.

Meliora and Terzo: it's complicated. i don't want to give a detailed explanation right now because i already have a separate post in my drafts about my analysis of Terzo's relationship with the themes of Meliora (it will be long). for now, this is what i'll say: Meliora is about the absence of god, and it's described as futuristic and "pre-apocalyptic." the title "Meliora" means "for the pursuit of better", but it's meant to be ironic. it's about the mistakes people make / the bad things people do in pursuit of better. so as your ask states, it criticizes ambition, greed, and abuse of power. i think Terzo wants to criticize those sins. but i think that he also embodies them, to a certain extent, and i think Meliora is also criticizing him.

Prequelle and Cardinal Copia: we don't really have any canon material that indicates Cardi's personal opinions on the album, but there is certainly a connection between the character and the concept / themes of the album. Prequelle is described as a "positive" album about the plague. it's an album about society falling apart during the apocalypse. it's also an album about celebration and survival in spite of being faced with the inevitability of death. i think Cardi certainly embodies this. Cardi is surrounded by death. Prequelle Era begins with Papas I, II, and III being murdered in order to promote Cardi's success, and it ends with Papa Nihil dying, which allows Cardi to ascend and become Papa IV. in a way, Cardi is both a plague rat and a survivor. it's not his fault they died. he didn't ask for them to be killed, and he was not their killer. but he is the herald and the carrier of the true killer, the actual driving force behind everything (Sister Imperator). through all this, Cardi is having a good time! he's dancing the night away! he's glad everyone standing in his way has dropped dead! he is a rising star and he feels invincible! and he is certain he will survive this.

IMPERA and Papa Emeritus IV: the main themes of IMPERA are "spiritual annihilation", reactionary sentiment, and regression. it's about how people who fear progress are afraid of losing their sense of meaning / purpose and their place in the world, so they turn to misogyny, violence, religious dogma, and fascism. they cling to the idea of having a cause to fight for. i think Cardi is certainly criticizing these issues. he doesn't agree with any of this at all. however, there's still a connection between the narrative of IMPERA and Cardi's character arc in this Era. narratively, IMPERA is a concentrated / condensed version of the apocalyptic narrative that plays out through the first 4 albums. it's about the cyclical nature of the rise and fall of empires. IMPERA Era begins with Cardi ascending to the title of Papa. but after the feeling of triumph wore off, Cardi became very aware of and very fearful of his own inevitable end. he knew that no matter how great his achievements were, he would be forced to step down so his successor could take his place, just like his predecessors had for him. Rite Here Rite Now is about Cardi struggling to make peace with this idea. as a side note: i really like the irony of the fact that Cardi was never actually the leader of his own empire– he was a puppet emperor who got his marching orders from his mother. it connects to IMPERA's theme of political manipulation.

[curioscurio]

Why we have to start being nicer to eachother:

I know it sucks and is hard, but I think we really do need to start treating techbros and incels and our fellow humans with a bit more compassion, empathy, and understanding before we jump to bad faith interpretation. Especially when seeing a bad take online used as bait for arguments. We have to give other people the opportunity and knowledge to think for themselves, and make the choice to become a better person on their own.

"Hold on! Why should I be nice to people like that? THEY'RE the ones who are being bigoted to US!"

Well, I'll try and answer that question below! I ended up writing a lot, so check out the "read more" if you're curious. At the end of the day, I'm not an expert or a professional on human behavior, so keep that in mind. This is just something I've been thinking about based on my own past experiences.

Conspiracy theorists, the far right, gun enthusiasts, and even MAGA's all operate on the belief that modern society hates them for who they are. They think the entire world is against them.

And, looking at the kind of hate rhetoric and harmful ideologies they talk about; the cruel acts of casual and extremist violence that stem from that community, it easy to see why the world has turned its back on them. Right?

It makes you wonder: "Why are they like this?"

The easy way out is to simply hold on to the belief that they are behaving this way because they are bad people. Bad people do bad things, after all.

But when the world turns its back on a group of people, those people turn their backs on the world. They will naturally gravitate towards whichever group of accepting humans they come across first. Whoever validates their feelings and makes them feel accepted and safe instead of rejected and fearful.

The far right preys on young men who don't know know any better because they are never treated any better. They have influencers, exactly like Donald Trump, that make you feel safe. They also are lying to these people and using their fear of rejection to control them.

It's very similar to how the Church will help you out and feed you if you're homelss... as long as you join the church and donate 10% of your earnings to "God." (The churchs bank account. )

That is to say, people don't usually pop out of the womb with these prejudices and fears programed into their heads. It's something that has to be taught to them by somebody else. Their parents, the church, their school, their friends, youtubers, etc.

"So, what do we do? How do we save future and current generations from being sucked into this hateful spiral of far right bigotry?"

"How do we help our conservative parents, who we know love us but are absolutely convinced that they need guns to keep their families safe? How do we help our Trump Train family members who used to be loving, compassionate, people?"

Well, you're not gonna like the answer. We have to start being nicer to everyone. We have to be nicer to incels, dude bros, techbros, Karen's, and yes, even your average Republican voters. We have to show them compassion and empathy when they're expressing their fears, without immediately attacking them for it. We have got to prove to them that there's a place for them to come back to.

Their fears are being taken advantage of by a system that benefits from pitting the general population against each other. If we're too busy fighting eachother, we can never join forces and fight the system.

And so it turns into a self-sustaining system of fear and reactive lashing out. They start believing that everybody is against them, except the few people who understand. Until the only safe place left for them is the Q Anon message boards. Quite literally an orobourous of hate.

"But Curio! They literally want us dead! These people are violent and irredeemable!"

Many of them are. So many of these people are groomed into believing that the only way they can keep themselves safe is by killing anything they think has caused them harm. It's an intentional system maintained by those in power to control those who are not.

Some of them, however, are just normal people who got in with the wrong crowd or are too young to know better. Some people were never given the chance to be better.

"So, what SHOULD we do? Be nice to our oppressors? Let them get away with hate crimes and bigotry?"

No. But we DO need to stop thinking of "them" as this massive malevolent demographic who have no souls and are inherently evil. The majority of these people were lied to and manipulated and groomed into these beliefs.

We have to try harder to stop ourselves before we start calling them names and attack them, regardless of if they deserve it or not. We have to engage with them on good faith. Learn about WHY they believe conspiracy theories and why it stems from fear.

"Why? What will this help?"

Because you're quite literally showing them that there's another option available for them to take. You're showing them that, if they do change their minds and want to change their behavior, that you are a safe person to approach with these thoughts. You have the power to create a space for them where they're allowed to think for themselves without punishing them for it.

Once you create that connection, it's like you're showing them another road in life they can explore. They now can see a new future for themselves. A future where their kids start talking to them again. A future where they're not terrified of being humiliated for being soft. A future where they feel listened to.

And that's all. You just have to give them that chance. It's not your job to change their mind, or to tell them that they're wrong for thinking thoughts. In fact, trying to do just that will usually encourage them to double down.

But what you CAN do is build an environment where they have the OPPORTUNITY to change their mind. You can be kind, empathetic, and educational. Be patient and listen and have a respectful conversation with them.

It is especially important for people with privilege to step up and be those kinds of diplomats. People who are able and willing to look past the surface bigotry to address the scared humans underneath. People who can do this without endangering themselves or their community. This may be other cis straight white people who can get away with bringing these topics up gently, without triggering reflexive defensiveness. Who then have the patience to gently educate them and steer them towards a better path.

"But Curio, I can't do this. I've been hurt too many times by these people, and doing this would cause me significant mental distress."

Then don't. You're not obligated to be the better person for every situation and circumstance. Nuance must be taken into account. You don't have to be nice to every troll or ragebait Twitter post. I certainly don't want you to put yourself in a situation that causes you emotional, physical, or mental harm. Hell, you don't even have to give them the time of day. It's your own responsibility to make the judgment call regarding your health.

But people simply won't change if there's no room for them to change. And some people have the power to make that room for them little by little.

"I've tried everything. I've begged, cried, been nice, and shown them that we won't reject them. They won't change their minds no matter what."

And that's also ok! It can happen. When you give people the opportunity to make choices for themselves, there will always be people who still choose to believe the system they were groomed on. They can do that because thats free will, baby. There will still be people who will not change their minds and who will actively choose to become more radicalized.

And it's sad to see. But you also have to respect that sometimes people aren't ready to change at the same time that you're ready to help them change.

But you should try to do it for all the young men and children who are being taught by their parents that White Genocide is real. You should do it for the parents who love their kid so much, but are so terrified when they say they're transgender because they don't know what to do. Because they know the world will not treat them fairly or are afraid of ruining everything.

You should do it for your 10 year old nephew who watches Andrew Tate because their mother doesn't give a damn enough to check what kind of YouTube videos their kid is watching. You should do it for the depressed and hurting teenager who thinks they have no option left but to buy a gun and shoot up their school, because no ones listening to them. You should do it for the tradwife who's alone and hurting after her conservative husband cheated on her and left her with nothing; because she thought she would be the exception.

"...How do you know this will work? What if you're wrong, and nothing changes?"

I don't! I'm just a random person on the internet. I dont know who might read this. It's just my opinion.

But at least, at the end of the day, you tried your best to be a good person to another human being, and I don't think that's such very a bad thing. For me, I'm going to try because I don't want to lose my father to that kind of environment. I want to be able to have a normal conversation with him again.

There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.

[erabu-san]

You are literally French. What would you know about any of this, an issue and drama stirred up by anericans.

Blackwashing exists and is used by bigots that hate white people. Its used to erase the ethnicity of asians just because people dont think they are "poc enough" because of their pale skin. Its used to demonize people with pale skin because its becoming more and more the norm to view anyone with pale skin as evil. That anyone who is "too pale" isnt enough or a human being.

They arent real people, and their skintones are fine as is. You wouldnt go up to, for example an albino or mixed race black/poc person and tell them they arent "dark enough". They dont even need to be special like that to be pale. Some just are pale.

Whether you think there should be more characters that are dark or not is not the issue. Its that you think they wouldnt be/arent good enough as is with pale skin that shows how much of a bigot you are.

Blackwashing is not the progressive act you think it is. Its obvious that your only experience with it is through genshin drama. You obviously know nothing about how much red haired pale characters & asian ones are substituted with black characters. How characters are simply replaced in the name of "diversity". How this forced inclusivity and diversity is just bigots trying to "get revenge" on the white people they hate so much, and to tick off DEI boxes on their little bigoted checklist.

You tell me to educate myself but its actually YOU who needs to be educated.

Many are complaining about sumeru and natlan characters with names similar to gods in cultures of our world that are pale when their inspiration is dark skinned. Claiming they want representation and for it to be accurate, to reflect our world on a 1-1 scale.

Yet these same people will make xiao, zhongli, Ei, and many more asian characters darker " because asians can be dark skinned too". Yet so can mostly dark skinned races be pale.

So why cant you (gen) respect such characters, who are gods and divine beings based on a culture where pale is more beautiful, and gods of such cultures are pale?

There is hypocrisy in everything to do with blackwashing. Its okay when its done to pale characters because in real life black people have been oppressed? But these characters are not real, nor are they a reflection of our reality, as far as we have seen they dont even have racism in this fictional world.

It is one thing to explore a character like with the recent hatsune miku trend, atleast there most people arent going at each other's throats saying black miku is better than japanese miku(as far as i have seen)

Seriously how can you even begin to justify this. And who ever told you that dark skinned characters "scare white people" is an absolute fucking liar trying to justify their own bigotry towards white people.

No black washing IS just as disgusting as whitewashing. Neither should exist, and you shouldn't feed into the stupid circle jerk of bigotry that both of them are.

Aaaah that's what I like ! Yes ! Thank you for telling me your opinion, explaining what is wrong. I absolutely love to learn, and I prefer to read this long text calling me ignorant and explaining why that just a simple text of you saying you are annoyed by a fanart.

Thank you for telling me ! First yes I am french, and indeed my culture has more an european pov. But again, I also grow up as a minority "race" with my parents culture !🙏 in france, i don't look like a french. Well. Still I am aware that it doesn't remove anything from what I said

And I totally agree with you, some are just pale !! It just happens I draw Kinich black because I like it like this. Is Kinich true inspiration are actually pale ? Tell me more, I wish to learn !!

Tbh when you talk abt gods being pale is beautiful, I thought about Nahida. I did research when she were out and yes, I do agree, there is character who are fine as they are.

And because I live in France I also see "dark skin scare white" as a true fact. It happens and it is harmful. 🧍 not only in France tho, in country where pale skin is portrayed as beautiful, people who have tan skin are less represented even if it is the majority. I suppose the contrary happens too !!

"Character are not real" and yet you are annoyed, I guess it is the action of "blackwash" that make you mad, more than "a fictional character w diffent skin tone" tho! My opinion is fiction does affect real world, as do real life affects fiction, and this is something I won't debate on

"They don't have racism in this fictional world" sorry but it does in Sumeru. 🙏 about this one npc she is reject by forest and desert because of them being mixed, desert not being access to book and even Cyno said his scholarship was complicated because he is from desert

If you wish to continue, please send me DM with arguments. I don't know if I would change my mind of not drawing Kinich pale, but I am super interested about what you have to say !! 👍👍

[rosapexa]

When you and the rogue AI you leashed to your Cyberdeck get along a little too well...

His name is Typhon. He chose that name. Everyone had a name, so he also wanted one. Typhon is one of the most dangerous creatures in greek mythology and the father of many monsters. He found that very fitting. And this choice might have been slightly influenced by Lexa's fondness of all kind of monsters (dragons and dinos the most of course).

Typhon was not happy at first to be leashed by an inferior human. But kinda... impressed(?) that this weak human was able to do it. And soon he got used to it.

Lexa used him and his abilities well in his eyes. She used him to kill (not enough for his taste and oh he let her know). He liked killing worthless humans and there were a lot of them. Typhon was also curious about the human world. It was inferior than his world, but with Lexa he got to experience so many new things. He learned so much. He developed.

Typhon became protective of Lexa. He wasn't sure why, but he made it his duty to protect her. He became like her very agressive guard dog (who also acted like a spoiled cat a lot nontheless). She was his owner and her Cybedeck was his home. And he had to defend both. He now had a purpose and he liked that. He never had one before, beyond the Blackwall.

He also accepted "the spare human" Johnny and was fascinated by the other little creature, Nibbles, living with them, who seemed to be able to order both humans around.

Typhon is also is the reason, why Lexa was able to survive Mikoshi. He protected and stabilized her during and after. She trusts him and he not only protects her but he also made her a better and even more dangerous Netrunner.

But Lexa also never forgets, what Typhon truly is. And he doesn't want her to either.

Note: These are my personal headcanons for my own Cyberpunk 2077 world. If you don't like it, ignore it. Thank you!