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bettysupremacy · 3 months

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hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭

I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(

you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!

thank uu

i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!

There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.

Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.

“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.

His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.

“Sirius.”

He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.

“So hungry.”

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.

He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.

“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.

He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?

“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”

“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.

The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.

You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”

It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.

“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.

You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.

“You new around here?”

An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”

He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”

“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”

“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“

“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”

“No,” the man scoffs.

“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”

He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”

“Well, conversations over now.”

“She can make her own decisions.”

“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.

“She was asking for it.”

Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.

James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.

Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.

“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”

You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”

He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.

He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.

“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”

He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.

“You do.” James feeds Sirius.

“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”

“You look good.”

“Oh, now you tell me.”

You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.

“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.

“That was stupid.”

“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”

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lovinpelova · 4 months

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secret santa | j. fleming

summary; jessie leaves your real present at home. [SMUT]

🎵 right my wrongs - bryson tiller

you watched on excitedly as millie opened her present from you, a massive grin appearing on her face once she caught sight of the white t-shirt you'd had custom made for her. a cartoon drawing of her and rachel was in the middle alongside their dogs by their feet, a massive 'daly dose of brightness' calligraphy sign above them as they pointed up to it, millie looking up and finding you immediately as she knew only you would get her something like that.

"i'm putting this on right now!"

she stood up to take off her shirt and modelled for the girls when they wolf-whistled at the sight of her shirtless, quickly putting on her new shirt and continuing to model it as you all cheered her on. the defender made her lap of the group whilst doing a model walk and arrived at you, kissing your forehead with a thanks before sitting down again. emma picked up a gift from the pile in the middle of you all and read the name, looking up to find you.

"think fast!"

she threw it towards you and applauded when you caught it with ease, slightly disappointed you didn't let it drop. the present was shaped like a flat rectangle and light, the price limit on your secret santa was twenty-five pounds so you had no idea what it could be, all the girls watching to see what it was as you tore it open. you noticed it was a 2024 calendar - cleary personalised - with the back showing twelve pictures of your teammates dressed up in stupid outfits matching the seasons.

january was erin and guro wearing new years hats with partyblowers in their mouths, february was jessie holding a heart-shaped pillow and wearing a hat that said 'happy valentines day' whilst blowing a kiss to the camera, april was jess dressed up like the easter bunny and mia sneaking out of frame with a basket full of eggs, june was zecira and lauren wearing hawaiian shirts with sunglasses on a fake beach whilst pushing their cocktail glasses together in cheers, october was niamh and fran dressed in matching vampire costumes alongside guro fighting them off with a garlic clove and wooden stake and december was all of the girls in different christmas jumpers surrounded by presents.

the remaining months were just your teammates wearing random things and being stupid if there wasn't any specific holidays, one of them being millie dressed up as a firefighter and pretending to slide down a pole with one leg popped up behind her and a finger on her pouting lips, a running inside joke on your team being that she'd make a great firefighter purely for the 'sexy' calendar photoshoots they have.

"oh this is so cute! best present ever."

you commented whilst flicking through the months and showing your teammates your favourites, getting slightly distracted on february but quickly snapping out of it once erin started teasing you for shamelessly staring at jessie. there could have only been one person who came up with this thoughtful idea and actually went through with it, no one but your girlfriend would take the time to make such a cute gift. you quickly stood up and walked over to the canadian whilst kissing her on the cheek, thanking her quietly as she smiled brightly with a blush, so happy you liked the gift but still growing a little shy once you kissed her.

the rest of the girls opened their presents and were all happy with what they received, sitting and talking for an hour or so before some people started to leave once emma dismissed you all from the team bonding session. jessie informed you earlier that she had another gift waiting at home, claiming she forgot to bring it as she was in a hurry that morning but wanting you to open it when you got back to your shared place anyways. your curiosity got the better of you and you'd practically dragged your girlfriend out of cobham training grounds towards your car, ignoring the chuckle she'd let out when you were beginning to grow restless out of anticipation.

"come on we're literally there! you might as well tell me what it is."

"sorry baby, no can do."

jessie refused for the umteenth time after you asked her to say what your actual gift was, unlocking the door to your shared apartment and letting you in first as she watched you practically sprint towards the bedroom where you knew it would be. you saw a neat box laying on the bottom of your bed with a red bow over it, picking it up to see there was no brand name or indication of what it could be. you carefully untied the ribbon with jessie leaning against the doorframe as she watched on with a smirk, grinning when you took off the lid and gasped at what you saw.

a black lace lingerie set was neatly laid out in the box in front of you, your eyes unable to leave it as you'd never worn anything like that before and didn't think jessie would be into it. (future you would be screaming about just how into it jessie is.)

"you like it?"

you turned to jessie and nodded your head shyly, kicking off your shoes by the end of the bed and pulling the set out of the box, holding it up to find thankfully she hadn't bought you a thong as you didn't like wearing them. it was a simple black lace lingerie set- yet you were obsessed. you hurried into the ensuite as jessie sat down on your side of the bed patiently, slowly getting more and more riled up at the thought of you in lingerie just for her, thinking about how gorgeous you'd look in the set and that she was definitely going to make you keep it on somehow as she fucked you later on.

she was knocked out of her thoughts by you opening the ensuite door and leaning against the doorframe shyly, not knowing what to do with yourself as jessie took you in and chuckled at your awkward nature when it came to things like this. she waved you over with a massive grin playing on her face, shamelessly checking you out as your arms went around her neck whilst you straddled her lap when she moved to lean against the headboard, squealing at the unexpected slap she landed to your ass before squeezing it.

"you like it?"

you repeated her earlier question in a teasing manner, watching the way her eyes wouldn't stay still as they roamed all over your body alongside her hands.

"god, i love it. this is so much better than i ever could've imagined. you get more beautiful by the day."

you blushed at her endless array of compliments as she babbled them out like she was drunk, lips moving forward to take the skin above your breasts and below your collarbone into her teeth as she bit harshly, grinning at the hiss of pain you exerted before she ran her tongue over it whilst sucking. she continued this all over your chest and neck, moving to flip you over so she could move her lips down your stomach and repeat her actions, loving the way your hands tangled in her hair and breathing picked up. the canadian looked up to see your chest rising and falling at a faster rate, absolutely adoring the way your bra was hugging your breasts in all the right ways to drive her feral; she couldn't help but move back up to your chest and pay them extra special attention once she was done with your stomach.

"god i love your tits. they look so fucking gorgeous right now- i'm gonna go insane."

"the least you could do is fuck me before i commit you to an insane asylum then."

jessie shook her head at your stupid joke, chuckling alongside you as she leaned down to kiss you sweetly, moving her lips down your neck to make more marks.

"if i could i'd take a picture to make sure this moment never ends."

"i never said you couldn't."

you smirked up at her, watching her eyes light up as you nodded your head in approval of her questioning glance. the midfielder reached for her bedside table and found her polaroid amongst her mini collection of cameras, positioning the lens in a way that only showed the bottom of your jaw all the way down to the waistband of your underwear, quickly taking a picture and placing the camera back on her drawer to sort out later on. her lips quickly found their way to your inner thighs and continued the trail of love bites she'd set herself on a mission of making, teeth wrapping around your waistband and pulling back before letting go, grinning at the whine you let out when it snapped back against your skin.

unable to control herself anymore, her fingers dipped under and softly began rubbing your clit to earn a moan of her name, your legs spreading open further in a silent plea as jessie moved her digits down to your entrance and prodded them both in slowly to not stretch you out too painfully. you pulled her into a heated kiss as she moved her free hand to massage your breast over the bra she'd gotten you, your hands tangling into her hair and tugging when she started moving her fingers. she quickly built you up and attached her mouth to your nipple over the bra, curling her fingers simultaneously as you pushed her head further into you and arched your back with a groan of pleasure.

"you're so fuckin' sexy babygirl. been dreaming of havin' you wear something like this for months now."

"won't be the last time if you keep fucking me this good every time i wear it."

you promised with a wink whilst keeping back your moans, throwing back your head as she observed the way your body was reacting to her hand. she was curling her fingers into your g-spot, pulling out every now and then to tease as she rubbed your wetness over your puffy clit frantically before going back to finger-fucking you like her life depended on it, loving the way you were whimpering at the loss of her digits every time. you grabbed her wrist when you felt her pulling out and gave her a look of warning, loving the way she cowered under your gaze and stopped the games with a peck on your lips in apology.

her thrusts started to get rougher and more forceful when she began to take in your body again, the sight of you getting fucked in lingerie riling her up to no end as she moaned, no longer keeping the thoughts of what she wanted to do to you at bay. jessie felt your walls clamping down on her fingers every time she pushed them in, growing tighter with each thrust whilst she groaned in response to the feeling of your arousal flooding her fingers.

"you gonna cum baby? am i fucking you good?"

"m'gonna cum- don't stop!"

you begged continuously as she kissed along the love bites she'd left behind in response, moving her thumb up at an awkward angle to rub your clit in tight circles whilst your nails raked blood-red trails down her back like she'd just been mauled by a tiger. jessie grunted in pain whilst biting her lip to distract herself from it, focusing on making you feel as good as possible.

"gonna be a good girl and look pretty whilst you cum all over my fingers?"

"m'your good girl."

"that's right baby. such a pretty princess. dressing up for me and letting me fuck you like this, such a good girl. my good girl."

that's all it took for the floodgates to open and your mouth to start letting out as many expletives as you could think of, nails continuing to make their mark on her waist and back as jessies hand didn't relent for one second. your breathing eventually evened out as your orgasm finally subsided, realising your girlfriend still had her fingers knuckle-deep inside you as you looked to her in confusion, seeing the dark look in her eyes as she raked them up and down your body in a way that said 'i'm not done with you yet' whilst she turned you over so you were straddling her again.

oh, she was gonna fuck you so good.

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astrogre · 4 months

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What gifts to buy for each Venus sign

Christmas is among us, my favourite season and time of the year. Venus is the planet of love, by nature it can display what we like to receive from others but if you don’t know their Venus or the house it’s in you can try to look at the persons Sun sign instead but Venus is ideal.

A gift based on their:

Sun sign will make them feel seen and like you know them well, it will be a gift they may appreciate

Venus sign is all they’ve ever desired it’s the pinnacle of their ideal gift. Especially as Venus represents how we like to receive and experience love

Aries/ 1H Venus

Gym membership, running shoes, thrill seeking experiences like tickets to bungee jumping, rock climbing, a skydiving event, gym outfit, tickets to their favourite artist, tickets to festival, cool lighter, archery classes, tickets to sports games, a shirt with their teams logo or merch from their favourite artists, scissors set, cooking tools, hair styling products like hairspray, hair dye, Fitbit/apple watch, knives set, sports gear, heavy bass headphones, tickets for those room smashing experiences, take them clay pigeon shooting, family destroying board games like Risk or Catan, diy tattoo kit, diy piercing kit, theme park tickets.

Aries Venus are by nature thrill seekers, Aries is ruled by the head and has 1st house influences, they can certainly appreciate something that ignites passion, they are impulsive and quick by nature to pursue what they desire. They need gifts that match their decisive nature and to let out that pent up energy they have in them, I honestly think experiences are the best for them. Or a box of hair dye for their impulsive moments

Taurus/ 2H Venus

Hire a chef or take them to a really good restaurant for a 5 course meal that serves orgasmic food and has impeccable visuals/atmosphere OR you can even arrange a 7 course homemade meal with the finest of recipes! , fine jewellery adorned with a gemstone, culinary experiences, cooking classes, kitchenware, go to fragrantica.com and find a high quality perfume to give, premium home decor, art, antique items, antique furniture, comfortable cosy clothing, hot water bottle, gardening tools, plants, selection of seeds for their garden, diffuser, essential oils, desserts like baklava/ferro rocher, luxury goods, wellness retreat subscription, day at the spa, tea set, comfy velvet winter pillows and bed sheets

Oh my Taurus natives, they know how to break a bank for Christmas and if not they can enjoy luxury on a budget! They enjoy the finer things of life of course Venus ruled, they know how to induge in pleasures and satisfaction. Due to the earthy influence they have a green finger and a natural affinity with plants and gardening, they may love flowers or want to grow plants themselves. Taurus venuses are rather easy to gift, if you know them they usually have a vice, it may be sleep, food or pure laziness, get them something according to their vice and they will treasure it.

Gemini/ 3H Venus

Really cool stationary, Spotify subscription, comedy show tickets, books from their favourite genre, a notebook, Grammarly subscription, cards against humanity board game, Duolingo subscription, multiplayer games, home kit recording studio, language learning stuff, calligraphy classes, kindle, portable car charger, Bluetooth speaker, karaoke machine, suitcase, travel accessories, a musical instrument, sealing wax kit, creative hobby supplies, microphone, podcasting equipment, audio editing software, a car, vr headset, Nintendo online subscription, Netflix/HBO/youtube/crunchyroll subscription

Gemini rules communication, short journeys and social engagement. Blessing these natives with tools to enhance their pleasant hobbies will make them swoon in gratitude, if you want to get them something make it engaging and whimsical. These natives are ruled by mercury and always welcome something that requires the mind.

Cancer/ 4H Venus

A cooking set, baking set, comfort food, commission artwork of the family, family photos, some really nice home decor, a keepsake/musical box adorned with velvets and soft materials that will store sentimental objects, a locket necklace, family recipe book make a recipe book of all their favourite foods and some foods you know they’d like, soft fluffy blanket, the family heirloom, hand crafted quilt, hand painted ceramic mug, animal crossing game, sims 4 game, games relating to the home, bring and fly in family that are far away as a surprise and cook their favourite meal together, household utilities, lush bath products, a personal chef for a day, a personal butler for a day, custom family tree art, ancestry DNA kit (please be careful though once you use them they keep your data and if they get hacked your information is out there), home movie night, comfy slippers and pyjamas, family board games, this christmas make them Christmas dinner this time.

Cancer rules the home and there’s nothing more appreciated by a cancer Venus than things that remind them of this. They are by nature expressive and nurturing, this time let them be pampered!

Leo/ 5H Venus

Hair care products, gift card for their favorite store, make them an edit no joke like a TikTok edit that makes them look really cool, one of those light up mirrors or a pretty handheld one if they don’t have one already, book them a photoshoot together if they don’t like the camera maybe post them on your social media and show affection for these bold natives, theatre tickets, bold sunglasses, luxury watch, good jewellery, VIP experiences like backstage passes or reservation to exclusive invite only restaurants, designer clothing that is a prestigious brand they love, commission style artwork, make them a playlist of songs that reminds you of them, fine wine, personalised fragrance creation that allows them to create their own signature fragrance, personalised makeup makeover, hire a stylist for them

A perfect gift for Leo’s need to have an element of self expression, luxury and incorporate their personality that garners attention from peers. They need a gift that makes them feel special, something tailored specifically for them that cannot be gifted to anyone else. Personalised gifts do well either this placement too. When I think of these natives I just think of that Meghan Trainor music video “Me Too” watch that and you’ll get their vibe.

Virgo/ 6H Venus

Skincare products, a blender for smoothies, lots of cleaning products, multi purpose aesthetic storage containers, Quora or chat gpt subscription (these guys like to be well informed), give them scientifically researched bath products that have all that vitamin breakdown qualities, make them a notion template to help them plan, quality office supplies like a desk organiser or chair, practical fitness gear like a yoga mat, a fitness tracker, get them a personal nutritionist, tailored meal prep services, bookshelf organiser system, a stylish briefcase, home office makeover (BUT PLEASE GET THEIR PERMISSION FIRST), online course subscription, digital subscription to news feed, you can never go wrong with practical things, an ikea haul, Costco membership, minimalist decor, multi vitamins, a precision watch, set of labelling and sorting tools, a neat tidy chess board, get them a nice little pet, honestly for some reason whenever I think of Virgos I think of matcha. Get them something matcha based.

Virgo Venus natives need gifts that resemble their routine and organisation, they can be rather difficult to purchase for since they have such a specific taste in mind. Gift cards are practical for them but they really need something that allows them to be more prepared. Take them out for comparison price shopping like say if you want to get them a sofa tell them you’ll take them out to Costco, Amazon, ikea, and compare the best ones. They are also very clean and efficient.

Libra Venus/ 7H Venus

Trending Make up like the fenty hot chocolit heat lip gloss, Korean skincare products, beautiful piece of art, a wedding ring 😏, bouquet of flowers, take them to a beautiful botanical garden, fashionable accessories like a silk scarf, books and courses on design, take them to a couples romantic date, a couples workshop, write them a love letter, museum date, tickets to an art exhibition, fine dining, an astrology synastry reading, if they��re single set up a blind date with someone who you KNOW they would like (make sure they’re handsome/pretty), couples retreat, love coach Patreon subscription, pottery/painting classes, relationship podcast subscription, relationship psychology books, fine fragrance/cologne

Libra is ruled by Venus and 7th house, all things related to love beauty and pleasure align with this native, even if they are single they have a natural gift for delving into relationships. Make sure that whatever gift you give them it is pleasing and sensual

Scorpio/ 8H Venus

Intimate gifts, a psychological crime documentary playlist like Epstein island documentary or YouTubers who speak of renowned cult leaders, personalised astrology reading, a dark seductive fragrance, dark artwork, dominance and submission guide book, shadow work journal with a lock on it, dark poetry and literature, escape room adventure tickets, monopoly game, dungeons and dragons game equipment, bdsm accessories, personalised erotic art, leather/latex clothing, bonding activities, empowering books like 48 Laws of Power, martial arts training, taxidermy, personal development workshops, intense workout equipment like a punching bag, chess, daggers, locks on their door or for their belongings like installing a lock for their drawers, buy them a ring camera and subscription, wine tasting experience

Give them something sultry and deep, it has to be psychological and empowering. They are not impressed by superficial gifts that mean nothing to them. They really like gifts that allow them to explore their nature and the darker aspects of existence.

Sagittarius/ 9H Venus

A scratch off map that allows you to scratch off countries you’ve been to, a surprise holiday where you take them abroad, Duolingo subscription, a wanderlust journal for them to document their experiences, passport accessories, an electric guitar, drums, take them to a fireworks display or do one at home for them, a telescope, a drone, binoculars, philosophical books or religious books based on their own beliefs and religion, running shoes, horse riding in the sunset experience, musical instruments, motivational and positive affirmations book or make some for them yourself, a book collection of all their motivational and positive messages they have said, a compass, pay for their tuition for a course they’ve always wanted, traveling stuff like suitcases, pillow for travelling, a portable flask, a disposable camera, a Polaroid camera, a tent, tickets to a cultural festival, hiking gear, skiing gear, camping gear, sketchbook, a donation in their name

Sagittarius Venus and 9H venuses love the concept of exploration whether it be in the mind or physically, the best gift you could give them is one that allows them to take in so much culture, information and experiences.

Capricorn/ 10H Venus

Customisable credit card (CUCU is a good site for this), a nice power suit like business attire, vintage pocket calculator, cufflinks or a tie, formal shoes, pay for their CV to be analysed by professionals in their industry, elegant timeless clothing and jewellery, make them business cards, get them a corporate slave (an assistant will do), pay for business class flights for their next trip abroad, project management courses, tickets to Ted Talk event, take them to and big them up at networking and entrepreneurial opportunities, a sleek desk, submit their work for trophies and awards, quality furniture, Starbucks or their fave coffee place gift cards, a fountain pen, personalised desk name plate, professional photoshoot, designer accessories like a Swiss watch, leather wallet, cheque book, pay for a professional calligrapher to design their signature, time management software

Our sweet cap Venuses and 10Hers need their professional acknowledgment, give them anything timeless and a way for them to better themselves. They love being the best of the best so give them things that support their ambitions.

Aquarius/ 11H Venus

A 3D printer, high tech phone, a gamer console, smart home device like Alexa, chat gpt subscription, AI art pieces of them, rubix cube, VR headset, bespoke one of a kind art piece, tickets to a science technology conference or musem, networking events, phone case, futuristic home decor, membership to an niche club their interested in, mini indoor garden like a plant terrarium, pay for an astronomy stargazing experience for them, alt clothing, goal setting journal, a camaraderie for their friendships can be a bracelet for an example, tickets to a unique workshop according to their niche interests, video editing software, a unique invention prototype for the industry their interested in say if it were cars then a mini Tesla or something, volunteer together, design software, film festival tickets, social cause merchandise, unique fashion piece, astronomy kit, an AI boyfriend or girlfriend, take them a Ted talk.

Always remember the specific niche interests of these natives they like things that are very niche and so sometimes asking them is actually the best thing to do. But make sure it’s something they’re passionate about not all of these natives live tech but they certainly are innovative.

Pisces/ 12H Venus

Seashell necklace, watercolour paints, fantasy book collection, their favourite mangas, handmade artwork, stained glass window art, dream interpretation book, flowerpedia book, vinyls, yoga mat, contact lenses, tickets to their favourite artist like mitski or the sort, create a playlist for them that’s about fantasy and imagination, they might like Disney consider taking them to Disneyland, windchime, subscription to mindfulness app, astrology book, go to the aquarium together, windchimes, art supplies, a dream journal, sound healing instruments, pay for their spiritual retreat, zen garden decor, a mystical music box, water fountain, take them to a mesmerising body of water, prayer mats, diary, write them a heartfelt letter of how amazing they are, take them to a nature retreat, wearable art

Dreamy imaginative gifts would be perfect for these people, they need gifts that allow them to appreciate their escape world where they have a reality that’s just better than here. Give them things that are as beautiful as their inner world.

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natsukishinomiyaswife · 1 month

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⋆ 𝓡𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓗𝓾𝓷𝓽: 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓛𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 ⋆

⋆ The sun was rising as you awoke from your slumber, stretching and yawning as you sat up in bed. You rubbed one eye, using your free hand to reach for your phone on the nightstand. It was a few minutes before your alarm was set to go off, sighing as you threw your phone to the side. You were hoping to sleep a little while longer, finally getting out of bed once your alarm rang. You went to the bathroom first, taking a shower and doing your hair before getting dressed for the day.

⋆ Once you were all set, you grabbed your bag and made your way out the door, pausing when you went to lock it. There, carefully taped under the peephole, was an envelope. It was white with gold accents, your name written on the front in calligraphy. You couldn't help but admire how beautiful it was, taking it off the door and inspecting it. You turned it over in your hand, noticing the wax seal holding it closed. It stood out on the envelope, a deep purple color swirled with gold.

⋆ You were careful as you opened it, not wanting to ruin or tear what's inside. You found paper that matched the envelope, unfolding it to discover someone had written you a letter. The letter had a pleasant scent to it, smelling of eucalyptus and geraniums. Your eyes widened in surprise as you read it, realizing what it was as your heart began to race.

⋆ A love letter. Someone had written you a love letter. The thought that it might have been a joke or cruel prank crosses your mind for a moment, doubt settling in. You dismiss the idea after thinking it over, taking into consideration how much time and effort was put into it. The letter was written with care, with the person complimenting and describing the qualities they love about you in a genuine way. Their words were like poetry, romantic and sincere. It's clear they spent a long time writing it, their handwriting neat and unhurried. You couldn't help as your face grew warm, reading the letter over once more.

⋆ You carefully put the letter back in it's envelope, tucking it in your bag when you realized how late it was. Though the letter wasn't signed, the person's feelings were clear, leaving you feeling giddy and more energized for the day. When you got home that night, you put the letter in the drawer of your nightstand, wanting to keep it close. You laid in bed with a smile on your face, imagining what the person who wrote the letter was like. You couldn't help but wonder who it was, falling asleep thinking about it.

⋆ You find another letter a few days later, slid under your door while you were away. Then another in your mailbox, a few days after that. As the letters kept coming you got used to them, looking forward to when you would find a new one. Each one made your heart race, making you feel loved and cherished. Sometimes there would even be a small gift with the letter, like a single flower or a bag of candy. It was always something you liked, and the consideration brought a smile to your face.

⋆ Your admirer always seemed to know whenever you were feeling upset or insecure, making sure to leave you a letter on those days. They would talk about what had upset you, or your insecurities, soothing you with their words. They would lament being unable to comfort you in person, hoping that their letter would suffice. You had never felt so loved, feeling like you could cry as they reassured you, telling you how great you are. How you were so kind, so fun, so lovely to be around. How they were thankful to have met you, describing in detail how they fell for you, and ending their letter saying how you deserved to be happy and loved. You couldn't help but think that your admirer deserves the same, longing to thank them.

⋆ It's been almost two weeks now since you last heard from your admirer, finding yourself checking every morning and night for a new letter. You can't help the disappointment you feel each time there isn't one, having gotten used to their letters. They were something you looked forward to, never failing to brighten your day. It made you wonder if your admirer was alright, if maybe they moved on. You shook your head, heart aching at the thought. You didn't wanna think about that, silently hoping to hear from them soon.

⋆ You were talking with Rook when someone approached you, holding a letter in their hand. You had never spoken to them before, but your heart raced seeing the familiar envelope they held, thinking that you've finally met your admirer. You tried not to look disappointed as they handed it to you, saying someone asked them to give it to you. You thank them as they walked off, focusing your attention on the letter. You couldn't help the smile that broke out on your face, happy to hear from them after so long. With your attention focused elsewhere you didn't notice Rook standing beside you, a knowing look on his face.

⋆ As much as he wanted to tell you it was him, he didn't want to ruin the fun, enjoying seeing how happy his letters have made you. He plans to confess soon, but for now, this is enough ♡

This is part one in my Rook x Reader series, Love and Devotion!

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

#♡.sheep writes #♡.twst #♡.rook hunt #oc x canon #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #rook x reader

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ifearzombies · 1 year

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The Little ‘I Love Yous’ Part 2

Simeon:

- He gives you little blessings without thinking. Your tea is the perfect temperature. You find the perfect chair to sit in when your feet are tired. Little things to make you smile and you wonder why you’re so blessed; only to remember you are loved by an angel. - He wrote a little short story about your adventures in the Devildom. It’s a children’s book series about a little sheep living with seven black rams and how the sheep helped the seven angry rams be better brothers. There’s little side adventures of the sheep meeting with some doves. You have the signed first edition from ‘Christopher Peugeot’. Levi is still trying to figure out how you got it. - He noticed when you visit PH you have a favorite seat. He’s made a little pillow with your name on it and put it there showing it’s reserved for you.

Solomon:

- He hears about magic spells you’ve seen in games or movies and finds a way to make that a spell you can actually learn. Or tries to. He’s only succeeded on one spell, but the little token he gave you that lets you cast ‘featherfall’ lets you give into a few of your more risky intrusive thoughts. Or it lets you escape the brothers’ arguing if you’re not on the first floor and a window is nearby. - He explained that humans require sunlight to Diavolo so that every other weekend you two can go to the human world and enjoy the sunshine and visit your family up there. - You’re the first to see a new spell or potion or rune he makes. Normally it’d be several of the demons he’s pacted with- but since you’re learning magic too he makes a point to show you the spectacle once it’s perfected.

Barbatos:

- He’s requested a day off of work with Diavolo to spend the day with you. It’s a rare occurrence, and you can’t help but be touched he’d leave Diavolo’s side to be with yours for even a minute let alone a day. - Your favorite meals are on the menu when you and the brothers visit for dinner. And there’s an extra little heart shaped chocolate on your plate that Barbatos will tell everyone he doesn’t know how it got there as he winks at you. - Sometimes you find random notes in your things at RAD. They’re all in the most exquisite calligraphy you’ve ever seen and it’s detailing something nice about you today. Your outfit, the way you did your hair, a kind act he saw. You know who puts these in your things and you treasure each one.

Diavolo-

- He tries every hobby you try with you so that you’re not alone. Plus it teaches him about the human world and how to have the Devildom be more welcoming for when his dream hopefully comes true. - He asks you a lot about the human world and what you like and dislike about it. it. He assures you it’s for his passion project, but when you mention things you like about the human world they somehow end up part of the Devildom (though you are not about to object now that the Devildom has started selling Kinder Eggs) - Kabedons you when only Barbatos is there. And when you blush he playfully asks if he did it right this time. You tell him no just so he’ll do it again later and he knows you’re lying.

----------------------------------------------------------

MC:

- You help Simeon use his computer any time he needs to use it and is too scared he’ll break it. Lots of things are harder to find without use of the internet and he needs to be able to do research for writing and you’re always willing to help. He does credit you with a pen name, but you tell him he doesn’t have to.

- You try Solomon’s cooking. The RARE occasions Luke and Simeon can’t stop him from using the kitchen he always tries to make something for you and you always try it. Even when you’re honest and tell him it’s bad after, he still tries to make things for you and you try it because he smiles wide just because you were willing to try it.

- You occasionally spend a day helping Barbatos with his duties. The first time you decided to do it you went in not knowing how much the butler does but now you wonder how he ever manages to make it one day without falling asleep before noon. The days you offer to help him are his favorite days and you can tell by the smile on his face when you show up in a butler/maid uniform to help.

- Being the heir to the throne is not easy. And for as busy as Lucifer and Barbatos are, you realize Diavolo works the hardest. You ask for a day or two here or there to spend the night with him- not even just for sex. No. You hold him and run a hand through his hair and tell him that it’s OK to rest. You give him a massage and let him rest. There’s been times he’s cried that you never speak of. Times he tells you he worries that his dream will fall apart if Michael and the other angels don’t support this. That you and Solomon and Simeon and Luke will be taken from him if he fails. You tell him it’ll be OK. That you’ll find a way back to him and the others if that happens. You won’t let anyone take him and the others away from you because you love him and the others.

#obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #Obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #Sorry but Luke is a child I'm not including him lol. Also I don't know Raphael or Mephistopholees or Thirteen yet. So I can't include them.

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

Text

Say hello to your Valentine Cero!

TW: Noncon; Kidnapping; Manipulation.

[Fem reader.]

It's hopeless. The more time you spend in this room, the less resistance you have to offer.

" Sign it. "

You shake your head, not trusting your voice.

There's a thunderous slam, the demonlord's hands clawing at the regal marble table and making a horrible, squealing noise. It rings in your ears, grating, shredding the gray mass of your already muddled brain.

" Tsk. "

He fiddles with a remote control outside your line of sight, and suddenly, you're arching against silken binds, shuddering hard enough to make the very chair you sit on tremble while the potent vibrator tortures your poor, overstimulated clitoris.

The noise that erupted out of you was something between a wounded animal's dying bleat and a wheeze. Ugly. Yet apparently very pleasing to the pride demon, whose scowl twitches into a grin for a second.

" Why must you insist on making this so much harder than it has to be? "

A long, flowing purple cape is flicked into place as he gets up, pacing.

" Do you not realize how good of a deal this is? " He's genuinely exasperated, sharp eyes looking at you as if you're showing clear signs of sustained head injury. " Must I spell it out? You can read, can't you? "

To be fair, even if you could when this bizarre encounter began, you've long since lost the coherence to read or interpret most of anything. The letters on the contract in front of you are nothing but squiggly black smudges twisting and floating on a fancy page, incomprehensible. They might as well be hieroglyphs by now. You recall what it is perfectly however.

A marriage contract.

A very weird, dodgy, skeevy one.

You don't even remember what put you here to begin with. You only know you bumped against an inordinately tall demon outside yesterday. In a rush, you were focused on a receipt and didn't look where you were going, knocking into him only to fall like a buffoon. The embarrassment was so intense that you didn't even look up, ushering out a string of apologies before collecting your belongings and dashing away with burning cheeks. It must have been him. It could only have been the Icon of Pride that you bumped into yesterday. That horrendous misfortune is the only incident you can think of to justify where you are right now.

In a stupidly opulent dining room, bound to a padded chair, lower half bare and currently being tortured.

Granted, this humiliating treatment only started when you refused to sign. You're not sure how much time has passed since then, with orgasm after draining orgasm being forced out of your sweaty body, while the unempathetic demon sat opposite of you, waiting, taunting, demanding you sign it.

Of course you didn't.

Although the calligraphy in it was nothing short of exuberant, it read like the whole thing was drafted in a rushed stupor. Like whoever made it, Di Cero, the demon in front of you presumably, was trying to meet a particularly stressful deadline. Sentence structuring is eloquent but impatient sounding, certain features which should be clearly explained are glossed over, and the number of concerning clauses detailing your level of autonomy as his supposed spouse are worrying. Not to mention the "scheduled worship sessions", whatever the fuck that implies. You could swear there was a mention of your soul somewhere… Buried in disgustingly self-flattering paragraphs of pure nonsense. It's as if he doesn't know what a partner is.

You were initially flattered, in a very unhealthy way. Scared and flattered, to be honest. Now you're just horrified. He wants you to sign a contract wherein you become his wife, Queen of Pride, as well as a strange sort of personal worshiper. What a fucking trip to wake up to.

The enigmatic paper in front of you is swiped away before saliva could reach it.

“ Ugh, you’re drooling on it. “ Cero sneers, and although you miss it entirely, a hint of deep satisfaction shines in his eyes from having you in this state.

He examines his own work briefly, this smarmy smirk on his face, as if he’s never read a finer legal agreement in his entire life. “ Really, I made it as clear as day, the terms are perfect, I’m even letting you use my personal pen. “ Something in his expression conveys that it's supposed to be a huge honor.

You glare at the thing, trying to distract yourself from the awful zings of stimulation, the loud buzzing echoing through the room and your own ragged breathing. Cero crowds you, exerting further pressure. The pen he mentioned is a touch too big for you, though that’s only natural, he’s quite the large demon, and you’re only a human. You’ve yet to touch it at all, but it looks heavy, a sleek black design you’re sure must be made of some well-known Hell mineral, featuring intricate curls of gold along the surface. The end of it has a strange form, like its… Oh. It’s a makeshift lancet. For the blood print part of the signature.

The demonlord rolls his eyes in a much too exaggerated manner, waving. “ Go ahead, I'll untie you, you can use it, really. “

Yeah, as if bashfulness is what’s keeping you from legally fucking yourself over. Handing your life to this tyrant in written form.

“ N- No. “

You’re not sure what the point of this is anyway. He could just place a blade to your neck and force you to sign, point a gun to your temple, even a slap from this creature could be dreadful enough to break something at full force. This must be extremely amusing to him.

A pause follows, almost lulling you back into an animal trance.

" No?! "

His booming snarl is the most frightening thing you've ever head, instincts begging you to shut the fuck up and sign already. Nothing's on your side here, it seems.

Your chin is suddenly pinched between two sharp needles, forced to face the fuming demon. " You ingrate! Brainless thing! Do you still not realize what I'm offering you?! " There's no response save for gasping and rapid blinking. " I'm feeling extra generous today, so I'll spell it out for you. Look at me and listen good- "

The vibrator working diligently inside you is all but yanked out. Thankfully, you're a wet mess by now, so it merely slides off with a disgustingly lewd noise. Instead of being ashamed however, you're sighing and slumping like a sack of potatoes, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Finally. Finally, some semblance of sweet, sweet mercy. Limbs tingling and half-numb, your body begs for the rest it's being denied by the alarm bells in your head.

Cero turns the white device off, and for a moment, the look on his face softens. As if he's truly lost track of what he was going to do with it. Much to your surprise, a very pale pink muscle peeks out between rows of gnarly teeth. You can only blink and watch as the Icon of Pride slides the shaft of the thing into his own mouth and licks it clean with a vigor shameless enough to set your cheeks even more aflame. You can see a very clear imprint of his excitement jumping in his odd skin-tight pants... What the fuck is his damage? It's only after a couple moments of this disgusting display that he appears to wise up, quickly releasing the toy, crushing it in his grasp, and tossing it behind him. There's a noticeable flush to his mostly chalk-white face, the demonlord looking genuinely angry at himself for a moment.

While the recovery was anything but smooth, Cero's grip on your chin tightens, painfully, and his stern demeanor surfaces once more.

" I've taken you from your sad excuse of a life to be a woman of value, of purpose- At my side, you shall be worshiped until the end of Pride itself, you will hold the admiration and respect of all demons under me, and you will know nothing but the very best life has to offer. Do you understand? "

Staring into those acidic rose pools, you realize he's being utterly serious, no room for mockery or nonsense in them. You have no idea why he's laying this much power at your feet, why he wants you of all people to fulfill this role. He could have anyone, he could have better, so much better. What sets you apart for him? What makes him think this is the type of thing you want from life? Well, that's easy to answer, of course the Icon of Pride isn't thinking about how you feel.

" Do you understand? " Is repeated through grit teeth.

" Y- Yes. "

" Good. "

Di Cero squats to be more at your level, an act that might mean nothing to you now but will be recognized in the future most likely, the pads of his fingers rubbing over your overstimulated mess of a pussy. You quiver and yelp like a corralled animal, though the Icon is too focused in the way your cum glistens on his digits. He finds your sloppy entrance and slides a digit in, moving it ever so slightly, enough to torture you. Your walls flutter and you start crying, fat desperate tears cascading down your tired face as you resign yourself to more unrequited pleasure.

Cero scoffs at the sight, observing sullen droplets hit the spotless floor while his gaze grows foggy. You're not sure what's going through his mind, nor are you lucid enough to care.

" I'm giving you so much pleasure, so much attention- You'll have me for entire days and nights, I'll make sure even that huge pink harlot envies you. " Although Cero's tone transmits desperation, his words are scathing and unconvincing. You have no idea how to interpret what he says, so all you do is look fearfully upon the caped tyrant, wincing at every twitch of his fingers that play with your wetness.

" Hm, no manners. " There's a drawn-out hum, facetiously pensive. " Yes… Maybe that's the problem, isn't it? I'm being too nice to you. Too sweet. You must think I'm a weakling. Bah, nonsense! I would not be King if I failed to adapt. "

You don't like the grin the demon now dons. It's different from his confident, toothy displays. Thinner. Strained. Warning. When his face rests mere inches from yours, your eyes close instinctively and you tremble hard enough that it feels as if you'll shake yourself into a pile of bones. Is he going to bite you? Plunge something into your flesh? Just yell? The uncertainty drags all breath from you.

Seconds pass.

Something warm slides up your face. Your cheek, more specifically. From chin to eye, it trails a wet path, collecting the rivers of fear tainting your expression. He's licking you. Cleaning your tears, perhaps savoring them. The same is done to the other side of your face, you don't dare open your eyes, fearing the type of sick emotion you'd find in his own.

The demonlord pulls away, his slicked fingers slipping out of you, but not before flicking a thoroughly abused button hard enough to make you squeal out in pain. It stings, black dots momentarily swallowing your vision.

" I understand, it’s a lot at the same time isn’t it? You need time to think about how you’re going to thank me for this. “

He’s gone in seconds. And the worst part is, you can’t even tell if Cero was being genuine, or purely mocking.

Hours must have passed.

You can’t really tell, it’s not as if he generously left a watch in the room. It feels like hours, so you assume that’s the case.

Your legs are sore, your ass, your still bound arms, even your back is screeching at you to shift position. Yet, no matter how much you grunt and shimmy around on the chair, it’s never enough to make the pains fade. You’re hungry, thirsty, still covered in your own fluids and utterly miserable, staring at that stupid. Fucking. Contract.

God help you. There isn’t a god here, but who else will you plead to?

You’d do anything to get out of this hellish chair right now. And part of you feels weak for admitting it. Maybe it’s exposure to movies that spawned this idea in you, but you’ve always thought it would take more violent methods to get you near begging for mercy. And sure, sexually you’ve just been through a lot, but being isolated in this chair is honestly doing worse right now.

You know what it is, at its core. Mind games. The demon humiliated you in an unforgivable way, and now he’s left you to your vices, to sit in shame, dirty. You’re livid, depressed that it’s working, that you’d rather just be done with this already.

As if something had heard your inner monologue, the door to this darkened hell pit parts, and in strolls none other than the very same bastard, looking as sharp as he’s been since the first second of this madness. The salty, dry tracks on your cheeks are silently renewed, the first reaction to his reappearance it seems.

Cero spares you a suspiciously calm glance before taking a seat on the chair opposite to yours, a fair distance away. His legs cross and he speaks out loud, as if to no one in particular. “ Dinner has just finished… “ A pause. “ If you sign now, you might be in time to eat with me. “

Food sounds amazing right now. You bet they serve well here, he’s a ruler after all.

In spite of your rage at his nonchalant audacity, you don’t say anything. Your judgment wavers in the face of discomfort and hunger, not allowing you to outright deny his offer.

Di Cero notices this, eyes sharpening when he finally deigns to glance at you, and preys on that weakness near instantly.

“ You do know you’re not losing anything of value, right? “ There’s a chuckle, as if he thinks your concerns are the silliest thing. “ It’s fascinating how afraid of change you are. Isn’t it pathetic? You live such a miserable existence that, when I hand you something much better, you immediately flinch away. “ A single finger waves, tutting you. “ Unlearn that, it’s unflattering. “

You swear to anything that’s out there, you’re about to pop a vein just from hearing this fucker speak. Another stretch of silence takes over, though not for long.

“ I’ve organized this down to the last minute. Every single detail. “ Some manner of contentment shines through his tone. “ Agree to our terms tonight, and our union will take place on Valentine’s Day. Isn’t that romantic? “

More like ironic. A demon getting married on a saint’s day. This has to be riveting for him. He must think he’s sooo clever and funny. Him and his little brigade of yes men most likely, because Cero strikes you as the type of monster that would want that.

“ Isn’t that perfect, beau? “

You wish you had the strength, and courage, to roll your eyes.

Unlike the previous encounter, your consistent lack of response isn’t dragging much of a reaction from the Icon. Instead, he just looks at the painted ceiling, eerily calm, waiting with steepled fingers. Cero appears to zone out completely, leaving you just as isolated as you were before.

Somehow, that makes you angrier. Yet also incredibly defeated.

This is it. You're just stuck here until you agree, he's made that much clear. And you're not a strong woman. You're not going to bear this for much longer. It's not fair and it's not worth it. He can have what he wants anyway, you've never been in any position to defy the demon, this is just some sick exercise to break you in.

A small eternity passes before you clear your throat, gathering a wink of composure and a brief side-glance from the tyrant.

" … I-... I'll sign. "

His eyes widen, chest expanding, you catch the exact moment where he realizes he's getting too excited and schools his expression, opting to be patient for a second more.

" I said I'll sign! " You near yell, voice broken, exasperated. " I just want to get out of here, I wanna take a bath, I just want to rest please- "

For a moment, Cero's stillness makes you wonder if he's lost interest, if your words were unconvincing or he thinks he can find someone better, someone less "pathetic", as he so politely put it. But then, in a blink, he bolts up, standing ever tall and tense. The demon erupts into elegant, manic laughter- Cackling really- As he claps joyfully and kicks his seat away in victory.

Although it probably wasn't meant to be intimidating, the way that admittedly heavy chair flies jarringly through the air and slams against the wall, breaking into pieces, is horrifying. A kick like that would just fucking flatten you, no doubt.

" Oh ho, I'm so very glad you've come to your senses! " The Icon's chortling fit settles ever so slightly, he waves. " I was starting to think you had some sort of damage. "

Oh. Oh, that's just lovely.

Cero's behind your seated frame in no time, untying your dominant hand, watching you pick up his pen. The demonlord's hands are planted on either side of you, pointy, cruel-looking things that they are. You can feel his breath on the back of your neck, hot, heavy, there's a wolfish grin on his face- You don't need to look back to know it's there.

" Now sign. You've kept me waiting long enough. "

Said flat words spread on your skin like apathetic ice cubes, forcing you to quickly roll your sore wrist, and finally, write your name on that blasted signature blank. You know what you're getting yourself into with every shaky curl of ink, not wanting to think too hard about the consequences of your actions as you solemnly observe your name on this trap, this unsubtle death warrant sugarcoated with frivolous legal terminology. Drivel, a drivel-based, cynical ownership deal.

Cero hums from behind you, a much too sweet-sounding vocalization given the circumstances. Your hair is pet tenderly, the gesture so out of sorts that you start sobbing, scared, confused, full of instant regret.

" There we go, my lovely little prize. " He murmurs against your scalp, still smiling. " Very good. That wasn't so hard, was it? We're almost done. Almost. "

The pen falls from your trembling hands as you try to conceal humiliating noises, feeling vulnerable in a way you've never experienced before. Cero scoops it up and wipes your tears with the other, unfazed by the way you lean back hard enough to bonk your head on the chair's backrest.

" I hope those tears are of joy, dear. " He starts, grabbing your palm. " Now stand still, if you behave for the next part, we can put an end to this. " Next part…?

He clicks something on the pen's side and quickly adjusts your index, bringing the sleek black object closer. Ah, the blood print. Maybe you're sensitive, or maybe he does it on purpose, but the lancet hurts more than it should when it pierces into your pad of your finger. Your wince makes him snort. Blood beads there quite fast, Di Cero effortlessly angles your digit and creates an admittedly clean-looking droplet next to your signature.

A much smaller but still disturbing bout of tittering erupts from the demonlord, who slips your bleeding finger into his mouth, messily and lewdly sucking at it, before pulling away and swiping the finished contract away from the table. He gazes at it with a softness you fail to understand, as if it's all that matters in that moment, religiously re-reading the last paragraphs and moaning at the sight of your written agreement.

Fucking freak.

Di Cero places the apparently invaluable paper back on the ornamented table, deliberately far away from you, like he's afraid you'll try to destroy the thing. A tempting thought.

He's back on you like a hawk, taking your poor arm and showering it in chaste kisses, nipping at your wrist. " Precious, darling inamorata- See? All you needed was a little space. " The demon coos, placing a harder kiss to your forehead before stealing a taste of your lips. It's all teeth and impatience, rabid excitement. Disgusting. " I knew I picked excellently. You're full of potential, I just have to chip at you a little, which is normal, naturally- Given your uhm… Lackluster species. "

So he's racist to humans too. Of course. Why wouldn't he be? Why did you expect anything from this greasy fucker…

Those wandering feelers flutter this way and that across your body, and much to your dismay, they circle at your inner thighs, sliding to settle between your legs again. You groan, the touch entirely unrequited. You've orgasmed enough times to be sick. Although speaking is hard for you right now, you still try to halt him. " Cero… "

" Hush, I'm rewarding you. "

Funny how it feels like just more torment in spite of that.

You remain placid, resigned to letting the demon play with your poor womanhood. He appears to love the feeling, making clipped moans and growls behind you. In turn, you can only gasp and quiver, having long-since lost the ability to scream.

" C- Can you please untie me now? "

Di Cero shakes his head. " Soon. After we eat, yes? " Your responding sigh is pitiful. " Speaking of- "

" SERVANTS! "

Your heart jumps around your ribcage like a pinball machine, you almost feel light-headed for a second, goosebumps covering you from head to tone at the massively imposing, demonic tone that just left the Icon.

The doors part once more and small imps race forward, effectively setting the table. It's a small commotion, but enough to make you die in shame as they work diligently, while their master fingers you stupid. To their credit, not a single one looks your way. It's as if you don't exist at all. You still try to squirm away from Cero's ministrations, earning a disapproving snarl. Lord, this is so degrading.

Your dignity just keeps taking blow after devastating blow ever since you landed here.

In an impressively span of time, the two of you are left alone again, the table entirely set. Candles and everything, a bottle of champagne so expensive you can't recognize the brand, and the juiciest steak you've ever seen on a plate, almost seeming to teasingly wink at you.

Cero plucks a forkful of it with a free hand and aims it your way, a look of complete lovestruck mania on his pale complexion. " Eat now. You'll need your rest. " It parks at your lips, insistent, until you begrudgingly accept the food, frustrated further by how good it is. Just as you expected.

" Because tomorrow, my perfect Valentine, we'll be official. "

#Cero oc #pinnie's art #monster boyfriend #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster oc #monster x reader #terato #monsterfucker #not sfw #minors dni

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iosagol · 6 months

Text

Losing my mind over the idea of Hamato Raphael being an art kid

When his harsh personality starts really establishing itself at say five? and he's just SUCH a precious screaming handful? Splinter spends a year trying to corral this child before he adds brushes and ink to the list of what to buy on the surface, in an attempt to teach Raph some nice calm calligraphy, right

Raph paints on the cabinets with it.

And from then on he's absolutely unstoppable

He learns by copying drawings out of picture books and the few textbooks that Splinter gets ahold of, by copying out of comics, by trying to draw from real life. It's pretty ugly drawing in most ways because he's six but he's so excited about it pshshsg

And this doesn't actually make him that much sweeter/softer as a person, but it does serve as an expression of his thoughts when he has no earthly idea how to say them

So when Raph has sudden pitches in wanting to hurt his brothers, and yeah he's eight so it's probably normal but also he looks almost *upset,* Splinter stops trying to get Raph to verbalize and starts asking if it would be alright for them to do some drawing together

So that's part of how they communicate (not to say that Splinter doesn't also communicate with discipline and firm tone, but I think in the times when he can see there's something deeper, he takes the time to ask about it through art)

Fast forward to nine years old; they're all starting training now, and Raph is suddenly being taught an activity that feels absolutely right to him

He soars

And by this I mean that Raphael and Leonardo are very clearly neck in neck for the entire 2012 series; Leo only outstrips Raph when 1) his brother steps down and gives his respect willingly, 2) when Leo is ahead on a spiritual sense, and/or 3) on an emotional sense.

But whenever Leo is spiritually and emotionally lacking and Raph is too mad to back down, they're fighting and Raph is winning

And this

This derails things

Because there wasn't a hierarchy, you know

They're different ages, so that creates some competition, but to be very real, Leo, Raph, and Donnie all look the same age; it's Mikey who looks a different age. They're very close in years

But now there's a competition

Now Raph is good at something useful and he has to prove that he belongs there

He's the strong one

So drawing gets dropped for say six years in pursuit of being the best martial artist in the house

And then he's fifteen and Splinter assigns the leader and it's not him

Raph put everything into being the best at sparring, with his weapons, in every physical level

And yet in the days when Splinter tried to communicate with him, art didn't get through anymore, and neither did words, and so he was not considered a safe choice

He's livid

And then they go up to the surface.

It's ridiculous. It's incredible.

And Raph, to his own horror, goes home that night and paints until dawn.

He triples the number of signs that say DONT COME INTO MY ROOM, BRATS on his door and he adds locks because now

Now it's out of control and the same kid that painted on the cabinets has torn posters off the walls and he's feverishly painting a mural of the city above him on those same walls, a mural of the night sky and the rooftops and the birds and pizza and cars and the funny shape of dumpsters

Raphael made himself out to be the muscle, the rage, the powerhouse, and now he can't stop drawing and getting paint everywhere

What the heck is wrong with him?

This is what's wrong; he's inspired by something other than competition for the first time in six years

He's making something excellent for himself alone

He's happy with it

And so for a long time he hides his sketchbooks, in his dirty laundry, under his pillow

And no one comes into his room

He visits an art shop one night on the surface because he made sure it's on his patrol area

He takes markers and pastels and gouache and a bunch of pencils and he leaves as much crumpled money as he has in an attempt to make it okay

It's so okay. He loves this so much.

Sometimes he can't hide the marker stains on his hands and he has to walk around with extra bandages on his hands and say he had a sparring accident. When they realize this actually gives him more traction and softens the pain of his punches, everyone in the family starts mimicking this fashion.

And then Spike turns to Slash, knows the horrible angry bitter parts of Raph's life and Raph never thought a real person was watching all this time

He's horrified

Because when he is angry at Leo he draws Leo, and he draws him in a rage

There is proof of how much he despises his own brother, filling pages of books in his room

And someone saw those pages and was moved to hurt

Raph's art nearly killed someone he loves

He throws away his brushes, pours the paint and markers into the sewer system

Swears off of doing art even though he was finally finding his style and getting much better at realism and becoming a real artist

He leans on Casey a lot, watches Casey do graffiti and tries to be content with standing near that and maybe picking the colors if his friend lets him.

The Kraang strike New York.

April's dad is mutated, Casey's family is stuck back there, Shredder throws Leo's body through a window, Shredder throws Splinter's body into the sewers

And they're running away?? And for the first time in his life he has no idea what to do?? He has to be the leader now, sort of, but he doesn't know how it's done, or he knows how it's done but he can't do it, and isn't that worse?

Raph finds a torn notebook and a few pens in a corner of April's farmhouse and without even thinking, he starts to draw.

He draws thoughtfully, painstakingly, tearing out pages when he's not satisfied. He draws Splinter in excruciating detail, the little scars peeking through his father's fur, the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.

There's no game plan, no revenge plot. Raph is alone, and he can't fight, so he makes good art.

It's when Raph sits down with his new sketchbook next to Leo's tub and tries for the very first time to draw Leo from real life that he loses it and ends up leaning with his forehead on the edge of the tub, crying himself senseless.

He's not okay

He's in so much pain

And he draws to take that away.

He's sick of cartoonish art; caricatures got his family attacked by Spike

Raphael dives into realism

He gets out in the woods and draws the trees, funny leaves, flowers, pinecones, ducks, clouds. He wanders around the house drawing it from all angles and changing bits of it.

One day, April knocks on the door of the room he claimed as his own and when he opens it, she gives him a watercolor set.

"I just had a feeling," she says with a smile when he asks what it's for. "No other reason."

He's practicing his katas one afternoon when he notices Mikey fell asleep under a tree. Slowly, Raph gets out his supplies and paints Mikey right there, kneeling on the grass.

He tiptoes back inside.

Later, Raph is chopping wood when Mikey saunters over.

"Can I look at the picture you drew of me?" he asks calmly.

"What?" Raph sputters. "Drew? Drew what?"

"I wasn't really asleep," Mikey explains. "I thought you could use a real model, you know?"

And that's how Raphael learns that his youngest brother knew he was doing art for all of these years.

I don't really know where this goes, but all I can see is Raph slowly letting people see him drawing and slowly letting people look at his drawings and slowly making more really excellent stuff and in times of peace he gets on an online platform and shares what he has and the internet goes ballistic and suddenly he's a really well-known online artist

When Splinter dies, Raph builds a triptych of three rice paper screens and paints across them

The first screen shows Splinter's past life as a human

The middle one shows him being the father to the turtles

And the last one shows him walking through a beautiful garden with Tang Shen; his face is obscured from view.

Ages down the line, when Shredder is long dead and mutations have slowly become a more accepted thing because plenty of people were hit with mutagen over the years and now people see it as more of an accident/disability than a mark of a monster, Raph finally goes to the New York Art Institute

and becomes the first mutant to graduate cum laude.

#raphael tmnt #hamato raphael #tmnt 2012 #Tmnt fan theory #raphael hamato #master splinter #leonardo #casey jones #teenage mutant ninja turtles #Raphael is an artist okay #The name fits is what I mean

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deejadabbles · 6 months

Note

Hiiii friend!! wanted to request a spooky prompt number 6 and 😈 with Fives please and thank you!!

Hello darling!! Thank you for sending this in, I was very inspired the moment I read it so I hope you enjoy this 🤩 This one also got a little ~heated~ since Fives had officially become one of my faves 😏

How to Summon A Demon Boyfriend (Demon!Fives x GN Reader)

Summary: There's no such thing as demons, they're just something to use for cheesy cautionary tales...Right? Rating: M (Minors DNI) Word Count: 1,813 Warnings: Crappy 'friends', small injury and mentions of blood, reader gets a big scare but it's fine in the end I promise, heavily suggestive content. Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3

You really needed to learn to say no sometimes.

Tonight was supposed to be the perfect chance to curl up on the couch in your favorite PJs and coziest blanket. Instead, you were freezing your ass off in a dark playground, pretending to summon a demon like some bored teenager.

Cam and you weren’t even that close, just work buddies, but that little voice inside your head had been yelling too loud: 'he was really sweet and invited you! You have to go! It would be rude not to!' Now you were annoyed with every moment of this silly little seance.

“Alright, I think that should do it!” said the cute blonde girl, who you didn’t know before tonight. You didn’t know any of Cam’s friends, yet here you were with them. “I think it’s a good little summoning circle, if I do say so myself!” She beamed down at the chalk drawing she’d sketched onto the area usually reserved for hopscotch.

Then another one of Cam’s friends, a young man with dark hair fit for a punk band, voiced your own thoughts, “This is stupid, what makes you think we can summon a demon from some random book you found in a second hand store?”

“Dude, I’m telling you, if anything’s the real deal, it’s this!” Cam insisted, cautiously taking the book from the blonde and flipping a page, “I mean, just look at this!” He tilted it towards you and the punk guy, “The ancient looking paper, the notes and stains- plus, the store owner said she got it from her friend when he died and that his family was into all kinds of strange occult shit.”

You would admit, it was a very convincing tome, even if the demon summoning was all fiction, the owner had put lots of work into its design. You reached out to touch the edge of the page, to see if it really did feel ancient, but just as you did Cam moved as well and a sharp pain seared through your finger tip.

With a loud hiss and a curse you pulled your hand back, clutching it close to your chest.

“Shit- sorry!” Cam said, “Paper cut?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, taking a tentative peak at the now throbbing finger. It was leaking red, the skin around it looking angry, and you noticed part of the offending page was now stained with your blood too. Well, at least it added to the book’s authentic aesthetic.

“Wow, didn’t know we’d be making blood sacrifices tonight,” the blonde said with a laugh.

“Happy to contribute,” was your sarcastic reply as you tried to soothe the throbbing. “Next time I-”

“Uh, guys!” Cam’s eyes were wide as he looked down at the book, “The words are glowing!” Then he let out a high pitched yelp, and dropped the book as if it had burned him.

With a loud thud, it landed on the summoning circle and that’s when you saw that the curving calligraphy on the pages were indeed glowing! Not only that, but the moment it touched the chalked symbols, the ground below you started to rumble unlike any earthquake you had ever seen.

Cam and blondie yelped as they fell to the ground together, you not keeping your balance for much longer, and punk kid only staying upright when he threw himself on a picnic table.

“What the hell is happening?!” the girl yelled, pulling the hood of her jacket up as if that would shield her from the horrors unfolding.

“You’re the ones who wanted to summon a demon!” Punk shouted, looking pale and ready to hurl as the ground continued to shake.

Then, within the circle, the already cracked and worn cement split apart. Chunks of it flew as old compacted dirt from beneath surged to the surface, making way for something else.

It wasn’t a man- “man” didn’t begin to describe it. Clawed hands reached towards the sky, lifting above a head of dark curls that did little to hide two large horns. Dark skin around tight muscles that flexed as he rose up from the earth, a bare chest with marks that might have been tattoos, and a blue kilt of some sort that made room for a swaying tail.

Paralyzed on the ground as you were, all you could do was watch with wide eyes as the demon stretched, and let out a roar of a yawn as if waking from a deep sleep. Then his eyes flashed open, revealing deep brown irises rimmed in red.

He scanned them over your little petrified group and, for some reason, your stunned brain noticed the dumbest little detail. 'Oh, he has a number five tattooed on his forehead. Wonder what that means'.

That’s when the demon pulled his lips back in a dastardly grin, revealing large fangs surely made to rip apart human flesh.

“Run,” he growled.

Somebody screamed. Someone else cried some sort of plea. But you couldn’t say anything, all noise dying in your throat as you rolled over and tried to scramble to your feet. Just as you started to, someone (Cam?) knocked into you and sent you tumbling back to the dirt painfully. Footsteps thundered around you and, looking up, you realized that the other three were already disappearing into the darkness as they ran, leaving you behind.

“Wait-” the pleading call was lost in the wind, just as something behind you took a loud step closer.

Somehow your brain was going a mile a minute and not thinking anything at all as you became painfully aware of the large, looming presence closing in on you. Body unable to move from fear, all you could do was listen as the demon let out a low, deep chuckle.

“Some friends you have,” he purred. “Leaving you here.” Something brushed along your back. “All alone.” Leaves rustled as he knelt above you. “With me.” Hot breath fanned against your ear.

A noise very close to a squeal left you as a hand grabbed your shoulder and rolled you over onto your back. You were face to face with the demon now, his arms caging you in on either side, his face hovering over yours, and still sporting that hungry grin as his dark eyes looked you over slowly.

“P-please don’t kill me,” it came out as little more than a wheeze, but at least you managed to say something.

That’s when those brilliant eyes snapped back to yours. There was a heartbeat of silence in which you went through a thousand different ‘this is the end’ scenarios in your head-

But then, the demon threw his head back and laughed!

It wasn’t a sinister, cruel laugh either. Instead it was light and, dare you say, joyful. The kind of laugh a loved one would make after you mentioned some inside joke or another. His broad shoulders shook and that tail of his swished behind him in a way that reminded you of a cat ready to play.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he gasped between laughs, “I didn’t mean to scare you that bad!” He leaned back some then, as if to give you some air, though his arms were still on either side of you. “See, that’s just a little act I do to give you humans a scare.” This time, the grin he flashed was playful and a little lopsided. “You have to admit, you kind of deserve it for yanking me out of my cozy little dimension. It’s a little annoying when you don’t expect to be summoned.”

You opened your mouth, now stunned in a completely different way, but no sound was ready to come out yet, apparently.

That didn’t deter the demon, though, his eyes searched your face when he said, “Course, I did want to scare off the others. Groups are always more annoying, and I kinda liked the idea of having you to myself once I saw how cute you are.”

The unexpected statement caused you to come back down from your fearful high a little. You blinked a few times, then found it in yourself to look him in the eyes more directly. You managed to stutter out a “Wha-what?”

The demon laughed again, a shorter one this time, “Wow, I really must have done a number on you, I’m sorry, mesh’la.” He held up a hand, though the black claws at his fingertips almost made you flinch. “I swear, I’m not going to kill you. Even if I was that type of demon, there’s no challenge in killing humans,” he winked, “you’re too soft and supple.”

Heat took over your face and you weren’t sure if it was annoyance, embarrassment, or something else. Probably a cocktail of the three. After a deep, steadying breath, you finally managed to say something more than a strangled noise or single word.

“So, you’re some kind of good demon?”

He shrugged those naked, now very distracting, shoulders. “Something like that. Mostly, I’m just here to fulfill whatever contract you want from me.”

“M-Me?”

“Yup.”

“Why me?”

The demon looked down at you with something…interesting in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place even though his expression was still light. His hand slid down the ground beside your prone body, until it reached your wrist. He grasped it gently, lifting it to show off your still sore cut.

“Because your blood summoned me. You’re the one I’m bound to, sweetheart.”

Keeping his eyes on yours, he brought your finger to his mouth and closed his lips around the bleeding cut. You found yourself breathless again as a wet tongue ran over the little injury, soothing the ache in a way you didn’t expect.

He pulled your finger out of his mouth with a little pop, then turned that fang flashing smirk on you again. “See, you summoned me, now we make some sort of deal, a contract. You give me something and I give you something in return.” He placed your hand on his naked chest so he could pin his own by your head again. “Name’s Fives, by the way, and you are?”

After swallowing the sudden lump in your throat and not feeling any more calm after doing it, you introduced yourself in the firmest tone you could muster. The demon- Fives, repeated your name slowly, and you could see his tongue tasting every letter of it.

“Hm, I like that name,” he said and again, you caught a glimpse of the spade-tipped tail flicking at his back.

You must have been more distracted by it than you realized, because he brushed the back of a claw down your cheek, before taking your chin in a firm grip to force your eyes back on his. When you did, his gaze seemed just a little darker.

“So, darling, what kind of deal do you want to make with me?”

Tag List @sev-on-kamino @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade @littlemissbshine @funeralreunion @chubbyhedgehog @ladytano420 @trixie2023 @mssbridgerton @wizardofrozz @vithepotato @mythical-illustrator @loving-the-cambridges

#fives x reader #fives x you #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x you #demon fives #halloween prompts #halloween fic #clone x reader #tcw x reader #deeja writes

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fengxun · 6 months

Text

WITH A NERDY S/O KUCHIKI BYAKUYA HEADCANONS

requested by anon: I saw you were taking requests! Can you please write headcanons for Byakuya with a nerdy s/o who loves astrology and flowers, and studies them a lot?

🏷️ gender-neutral reader. established relationship & domestic fluff. wholesomeness all around! // @angelshub @bitchcraftinc

☕ I actually haven’t written headcanons in a while so I hope this is OK nonnie! Thank you for your request and enjoy!

Kuchiki Byakuya loves you for who you are. That means regardless of what you do or what you enjoy, he’ll always be fond of you. With that being said, if you happen to have similar interests as he does, he’ll simply have one more thing to love about you!

Etiquette and intelligence are important to him. He enjoys anything that invokes thought or inspiration. When he learns of your fondness for astrology and flowers, he’s quite intrigued.

Byakuya is into calligraphy as well as the more traditional arts and hobbies like tea ceremonies or martial arts. He’s not as well-versed in the more artistic, abstract side of things — no disrespect to Wakame Ambassador, of course — which is why he appreciates that you’re there to give insight. He always looks for your input on things.

He does have some basic knowledge of astrology, namely what zodiac signs there are and the months they cover. He doesn’t really believe it makes up one’s character, though.

Regardless of his scepticism, he always indulges you whenever you bring it up. ‘Hitsugaya is such a Sagittarius!’ He doesn’t quite understand what that means, but he trusts your opinion.

As for flowers, the moment he finds out you’re interested in them and the language, he’s ready to have the servants rearrange the garden to your liking.

He likes spending time with you. You could sit in silence and read books over some tea, or you could take flower arrangement classes together on your days off.

The halls of the Kuchiki manor are decorated with his calligraphy banners and your floral arrangements. He likes how they make the manor feel like a home.

All in all, he’s very supportive of your interests. If you want to take a class for something, he’ll endorse it without hesitation. Nothing makes him feel more fulfilled like seeing you happy and he’ll do whatever he can to keep it that way.

#I’m not good at this </3 LSFDSHFSD\#im gna be honest with u anon i had to look up astrology #i am dumb of ass #angelshubnetwork #bitchcraftinc #byakuya kuchiki x reader #bleach x reader #headcanons #all

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 10 months

Note

hello can you do a xavier thorpe with midnight rain ?please

This has been in my drafts for so long and I did not plan for this to be over 2.7k, but here we are. Midnight rain is one of my favorite on Midnights so I couldn't not write this

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You've dreamt of writing novels since you could hold a pen.

At nine years old, you wrote your first short story, a dark mystery starring you and your sister Wednesday. Your English teacher was both impressed and horrified when she read it. She sent it to a writing contest for young writers, believing your writing skills deserved to be read by bigger names, but the judges preferred a tooth-rotting romance written by a typical American sweetheart.

You never stopped writing. On the contrary, you were spending more time with your typewriter, perfecting your storytelling and expanding your vocabulary. Those judges were too narrow minded and weak stomached to appreciate your writing.

At eleven years old, you met Stephen King at a book release event. You were the youngest in line and may or may not have skipped school in order to meet him. Sorry, Mrs. Jackson, but Stephen King was of greater importance than your lecture on World War I. You got him to sign your favorite book and dropped a folder with your name on the cover. The horror writer was confused, thinking it was something else you wanted him to sign — it wasn't.

''It's my first novel. I would like you to read it.''

His opinion mattered more to you than those judges from the young writers contest.

Wednesday, the ever so pessimist, kept telling you he would toss your novel in the trash and move on with his day, but a few weeks later, you received a handwritten letter from the man himself. He had read your short story. He called it macabre and at times disturbing, which was a praise coming from him.

Ten years later, you were standing in the very same bookstore you met Stephen King. But this time, you were the one sitting behind the table and signing books.

It felt surreal seeing your name on a book cover.

The New York Times listed you as one of the promising authors under the age of thirty, which made the sales of your novel go up.

You were getting ready for your signing, making sure you had enough pens and that your dark lipstick was not on your teeth when Eleanor, your personal assistant for this book tour, came up to you holding a bouquet of flowers.

''These were sent to you, Ms. Addams,'' she said, placing the bouquet of black dahlias on the table.

You looked at it in confusion. ''Who are they coming from?''

''They aren't addressed to me, I legally cannot check.''

You nodded in understanding and sent her off. Whoever had sent these knew your favorite flowers. Most assumed it was black roses, but you preferred dahlias — like the murder.

You took the small card attached to the bouquet and read it.

Congrats on the novel. I knew you were gonna make it.

A rush of emotions swarmed through you. You had recognized the handwriting, the perfect calligraphy of the boy who once owned your heart.

Sometimes, you catch yourself wondering what your life would be like if you hadn't broken his heart during your last year at Nevermore. You would be lying to say you didn't miss him. Xavier was more than a teenage romance. He was the love of your life, but your and Xavier's vision of the future, life after Nevermore Academy, didn't align. He wanted a comfortable life, away from the spotlights. You wanted the world to know your name.

You tried to make the relationship work, you really did. You thought you could do it, true love can get through the hardest ships, but you started focusing on your writing more and more, and lessening the time you spent with Xavier. He was understanding, knowing how important writing was to you. Sleepovers became less frequent as your nights were spent with your typewriter, weekly dates turned into monthly dates, and the 'I miss you's outnumbered the 'I love you's.

This wasn't fair to Xavier. He deserved someone who wasn't always going to make him second in her priorities. You had always been driven by a greed to succeed, the desire to accomplish your dreams. Love had come to you when you least expected it. It had never been part of your life-plan.

With a heavy heart, you found yourself turning the page on a relationship you thought would last your lifetime, because when you love someone, sometimes you need to let them go. Even if it hurts.

''Madelaine is asking when we'll begin,'' your assistant asked, pulling you out of your mind.

You shifted your eyes away from the card, hiding it in the pocket of your trousers.

Eleanor averted her gaze from you, turning to the beautiful flower instead. She was curious of their provenance, but knew it was none of her business. ''Eh, sorry. I didn't want to interrupt—''

''What is it?'' Your tone was a little rude, but you didn't get to apologize.

''There's a line outside that extends to the café and the owner is complaining that it's blocking the way and interfering with his business. Madelaine is asking when we'll begin.''

You glanced at the large clock on the wall. ''I'm meeting Wednesday and Enid for lunch at 1pm. I need to be finished by then.''

Eleanor nodded. ''I'll tell Madelaine to let the people in, then.'' She gave you a smile, then walked away.

After having dinner with Enid and Wednesday, you returned to your hotel. On the walk there, your heart jumped in your chest when you saw a tall man with his hair tied into a bun waiting to cross the street. Your mind immediately made the connection, the piece of paper in your picked feeling suddenly heavier.

According to Wednesday, Xavier lived in New York. He bought a loft somewhere in Greenwich Village and displays his paintings in a gallery. She and Enid had attended his last exposition a few months back.

It made you happy to know his paintings were displayed in a gallery. You always knew he was talented and could make a living off his art. You wondered what his paintings looked like. He must have improved since high school. Was he still using his nightmares as inspiration? Had he moved on to a more abstract style? Did he still have that painting of you?

Your questions remained unanswered, having reached your hotel.

Eleanor must have come into your room after the signing because the black dahlias were placed on the table along with the few small gifts you had received from your readers. You removed your coat and walked up to the flowers, a feeling of nostalgia filling your heart.

The first time Xavier got you black dahlias was on Valentine's day. While everyone got their significant other roses, he got you a black dahlia. The special attention had touched you. You had only mentioned once that they were your favorite. It was at his shed and he was painting. You thought he wasn't listening to you, but he was. He always listened.

You gave one last lingering glance to the black dahlias on the table, then called your mother through your crystal ball. A phone would have been more practical, but you weren't a big fan of technology.

Shortly after summoning her, Morticia appeared through the crystal ball. ''You look tormented, my little stormcloud.''

You couldn't hide anything from her.

Before you told her anything, she noticed the flowers behind you and immediately understood the provenance of your torments. Fortunately for you, heart matters were Morticia's favorite. She had a preference for those involving cursing a lover who did you wrong, but she was still very pleased to be of help.

''What's stopping you from reaching out to him?''

Flashes of Xavier's teary eyes haunted your thoughts as guilt and regret filled your guts. ''I broke his heart, Mother. I cannot show up at his apartment.''

''If he is the love of your life, why not give it a shot? Love makes us forgive the heaviest mistakes, my darling.'' Morticia paused, thinking about her own past mistakes. ''Besides, he sent you flowers, didn't he?''

The cab ride to Greenwich village felt interminable. You almost told the chauffeur to turn around fifteen times, but when would you be in New York again? This was your chance.

The car stopped in front of Xavier's building. It was tall and most lights were out. Maybe he was asleep? Xavier has always been a night owl, the chances he was asleep at this hour were very slim.

You paid the driver and took the stairs, your heart hammering behind your chest as you got closer to Xavier's door. You paused before knocking, deciding to use the secret knock you and Xavier used at Nevermore when sneaking in each other's dorms. It's been a few years, but you hoped he remembered.

The door opened and you momentarily forgot how to breathe. His green eyes looked down at you and an army of spiders swarmed your stomach, making you feel like a teenage girl.

Xavier stepped back to let you inside, then closed the door, plunging you in the silence of the apartment.

''You don't seem surprised to see me.''

He casted his eyes down and shook his head gently. ''I had a dream about you last night,'' Xavier explained, shifting his gaze back to you. ''You were here, standing by the large window of my apartment, looking absolutely stunning by the moonglow.''

You crossed the large room, your shoes clicking on the wood floors, and stood by the window adorning the street, trying to recreate Xavier's dream picture-perfectly. ''Like this?''

A soft smile spread on your old flame's face.

''I didn't know if it was my mind playing and trying to hurt me or if it was premonitory,'' he said as he walked over to you, his pace slow and calculated.

The moonglow hit his face, making his beautiful eyes glisten.

You wanted to kiss him.

Shaking that thought from your head, you cleared your throat. ''Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful.''

''I saw a poster with your face at the bookstore last week saying you would be having a signing. I wanted to come, but I didn't know if you would have wanted to see me...'' He got closer to the window, watching the city under.

''I always want to see you, Xavier.''

He scoffed, an ache in his heart. ''That's not what you said a few years ago.'' The wound was old, but it had never healed completely.

Guilt and regret swarmed your guts. You wanted to apologize, but no 'sorry' would be enough to amount how much you regretted those words. You had lied to him, right to his face, that night. You had watched his green eyes fill with tears as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

''Would you have thought of me today had I not sent you flowers?''

''Yes,'' you replied with no hesitation. ''Just because I'm a published writer doesn't mean I've forgotten about my past — our past.''

Shaking off the flashes of the past, Xavier blinked back his tears and tightened his jaw to camouflage his emotions. ''Why are you here, Y/N?''

The question was simple, yet you didn't know what to answer. You couldn't exactly blurt out 'because I still love you'. Although it was the truth, you knew this would not work with Xavier. You broke his heart and if you wanted him to let you have it again, you'll have to mend the pieces.

''I want to fix the past.'’

It was naive and silly to say, but you couldn't find anything better.

You continued. ‘’When we’re young, we think we know everything — we don’t. Decisions we think are right at the time sometimes are not and we only realize so when we grow up. I made a tremendous mistake when ending things with you, Xavier. I’m genuinely so sorry for all the hurt I inflicted upon you that night and all the ones that followed.’’

Xavier glanced at you for half a second, then looked away again.

‘’I wish I could say I wish I never pushed you away, but I can’t. If I hadn’t, I would never have realized how important you are to me. How I miss the deep connection we shared, the way we understood each other without words and having someone to share my greatest achievements with. I miss our late nights together, me writing or reading and you painting. I miss Sunday mornings at your dorm and seeing your sleepyhead beside me—’’

‘’Just because you miss these moments doesn’t mean anything. We all miss things from the past, it’s called nostalgia.’’

‘’I know what nostalgia is, and this ain’t it!’’

Frustration was beginning to build inside you and you were starting to think you were fighting for a love that was too far gone. A flame that had been killed and would never ignite again.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away.

‘’Back then, I believed my career was the most important thing. I thought if I made it and became a writer, I would feel fulfilled, but all this time I’ve been away from you made me realize that love is important too. What’s the point of living my dream if the person I want to share it with is not there by my side?’’

When you got the email from a publishing house saying they loved your novel and wanted to publish it, Xavier was the first person you wanted to call and tell your big news to. Your finger had hovered over his name on your phone for several minutes.

Instead, you had called your mother.

‘’When you're young, we make mistakes we thought were right at the time. When you grow up, you realize and come back to what you need. We’ve accepted that our lives grew apart, but what if I don't want our lives to grow apart? What if I want them to meet in the middle?’’

‘’Do you know how different our lives are, Y/N? I live in New York and you…I don’t know where you’re currently living. How are they supposed to meet in the middle?’’

‘’We make them meet in the middle,’’ you answered simply.

‘’We’ve tried that before.’’ Xavier scoffed, shifting his body toward the window. He could see your reflection in the glass, but tried to ignore it and focus on the street below. ‘’It didn’t work.’’

‘’We didn’t try hard enough.’’

The room was filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty as your words were left pending. Xavier's skepticism was evident, his doubts stemming from the geographical distance that seemed to separate your lives and the flashes of the past. A part of him wanted to jump in and take a chance, but another reminded him of the tough heartbreak he went through when you broke up.

‘’I’m ready to give my all into this relationship, if you’re willing to give us another chance. New Jersey is not that far from New York. I…I could move here! I have a computer now, we could video-call. Or you could come spend a few days at the Addams manor?’’

Xavier turned his gaze from the window to meet your eyes. Like your sister, you had always been reluctant to submit to technology. He was surprised that you owned a computer. ‘’It’s called Facetime.’’

You drew your eyebrows together. ‘’What?’’

Xavier couldn't help but chuckle at your response. ‘’Video-calling,’’ he mocked. ‘’It’s called Facetime.’’

Right. Facetime. Enid had told you many times.

You rolled your eyes. ‘’Excuse me for not being a slave to technology for as long as you,’’ you retorted, turning the teasing around.

Accepting defeat, Xavier then shifted back to seriousness. ‘’You really think we can do this?’’ he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

You took a few strides toward him, raising your eyes to meet his. ‘’If we put our hearts in it.’’ You took his hand in yours, holding it with both hands.

A moment of silence enveloped the room as your words hung in the air. You were trying to be optimistic, but the longer the silence was getting, the less optimistic you were. He was going to push you away...

His green eyes shifted from your hands, distracting himself with the dainty rings on your fingers. You still had the one he gave you for your fifteenth birthday. You were just friends back then, so it didn’t have anything romantic tied to it.

‘’Okay.’’ He covered your hands with his other one, making you look up at him.

‘’Okay?’’ you repeated, making sure you had heard correctly.

Xavier nodded. ‘’Just…don’t break my heart again. Please.’’

You couldn't make that promise. ''I'll try,'' you said instead. ‘’And if you break mine?’’

‘’We’ll say we’re even.’’

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n @poppet05 @ell0ra-br3kk3r

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#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x you #wednesday imagine #wednesday #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe x addams!reader

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dollywony · 1 year

Note

hi girly!! I absolutely loved your yandere miles fairchild fic and I was wondering if you could write another one?

maybe where the reader (female) is a dancer and has been getting letters in her dance bag from a mysterious secret admirer (being miles) who only signs his letters using M.F. or something like that. maybe the reader then gets freaked out because he starts threatening her saying that he knows where she lives and gets really specific on things that only she would know. then maybe when she is asleep in her apartment one night he finally goes to take action and takes her with him. maybe reader wakes up because miles is caressing her face (like he did with kate in the movie) and she wakes up and he confesses who he is and then takes her?

I know this is very specific, and if you can get to this great but if not then don't worry about it.

meant to be - m.f

pairing(s): miles x reader

summary: your secret admirer took the first step in confessing, but you wanted nothing to do with him.

a/n: hey babe ty for requesting!! 💕💕💐 + sorry 4 making you wait!! ☹️☹️

wc: 1.4k+

It's now eight at night and you're beyond tired. Dancing constantly nonstop exhausts your body, but you need something to take your mind off what was going on. The whole situation was creeping you out. The letters you would find after packing was the cherry on top in making you hurl. The one from yesterday was the worst so far.

To the angel of my dreams,

Y/n, you don’t know how much I wanted to fucking kill that man for even talking to you. To make matters worse, you basically threw yourself onto him even after he hurt you. Do you know how much that hurts? Seeing you being unloyal to me. Y/n i'm on my last straw. I know everything about you, yet you seem unfazed. Why is that? Is it because you don't believe me? Is It because you don't believe I'll do anything to you? Believe me doll, i dont want to but youre making it so fucking hard.

You live in apartment complex #127. The pin number is 6250. Don't even bother changing it love, it takes four days for your complaint to actually be dealt with. You know, I still have the paperclip you gave to me that day. It's my best possession.

You drive me crazy darling. Spritzing your miss dior perfume that you received from your sister on christmas daily. It's almost empty though, maybe I'll get you another one.

Your laugh, your emotions, fuck your everything is so worth every penny i hold to my name. You’ll be mine one way or another.

Yours devotedly and lovingly,

M.F

You didn’t even reread that letter, discarding it the moment you were done reading it. Who even was M.F? What did he want? More importantly how the did he know any fucking thing he shouldnt know about you?

It was hard to even try and pinpoint who M.F was. You were in school during the day and as soon as it finished, you would go to the studio. In the studio you would dance and dance until you felt as if your legs were going to break. By the time you would get home, you would instantly pass out. Sometimes it would range through ten to twelve.

Looking through your bag, you discovered the letter he left today. As you tore open the envelope you unfolded the paper.

You were confused. Why did the letter just say today? It was written horribly too, as if he was in a rush. Instead of his usual neat calligraphy, the word was contorted and out of line.

Did he mean he's going to do something today or did he mean today as if he was stopping all letters to you from today? You hoped it was the latter. Crumpling up the letter in your hand, you were wary that he would pop up anywhere. Who knows maybe he was following you right now. Maybe he was in the dance studio with you.

You felt uncomfortable. There was this weird, cold feeling that shot down your body. Your eyes looked at every crevice but you couldn’t find a hint of anyone hiding.

Sighing you finished packing your bag and got up to finally go home. You were tired. Tired of whoever M.F was. Tired of his sick, scary letters.

Getting out of the taxi, you were finally home. Walking up the stairs, you greeted mrs. Abbott next door. She was awfully sweet, always making the best cookies.

“Hi dearie!” She cheered, grinning widely at you. “Hi Mrs. Abbott, how are you?” You replied, sending the grin back. “Oh I'm doing quite well! How about you?” she questioned. “Oh I'm about to go to bed soon, have a goodnight!” you finished with a chuckle. “Alright sweetie! Have a good sleep!” you hear her say as you fumble to get your keys out.

Opening your door, you threw your bag down near your desk. Stumbling towards your bathroom, you couldn’t help but think why M.F had such an infatuation with you. It made your head hurt.

Stepping in your shower, you were quick to clean up. Wanting the day to finally be over, you were more than eager to help. Getting the covers over your body, you swiftly fell asleep unaware of the pair of eyes that emerged from underneath your bed.

Fast asleep, Miles crawled out from under your bed sighing. Seeing you sleep was even prettier up close. He thought, approaching your unconscious figure. Slowly sitting down on your bed trying not to wake you, he let his hand stroke your hair. Your hair was so pretty just like you.

Miles’s grin grew as he envisioned you in his bed as he protected you just like this. Well maybe he didn’t help you, but he felt like he was protecting you. Grabbing your hand, he interlocked it with his. Miles couldn't think of anything that made him happier than this.

Leaning in, he let loose of your hair going to caress your face. As his hand came in contact with your face, he felt euphoric. The feeling of your soft, delicate skin with his hand was so much and more for him. Miles closed his eyes and continued to caress. Being this close with you, even touching your skin made him ecstatic.

Waking up, you feel this sensation on your right cheek. Widening your eyes, you realized someone other than you was here. You see a boy with furious curls sitting next to you. He was rather good looking but that thought left your soul the moment you realized he was touching you.

“Fuck! Get off me!” You shrieked as you shoved the mysterious man off your bed. He grunts as he hits the floor. “Who are you?” You screeched, getting up to get your phone but he had grabbed your ankle making you fall face plant onto the floor.

“Not so fast Angel.” His voice, jagged and raspy, came out. “I need to tell you something.”

“What do you mean tell me something! You freak leave!” You wailed out, distressed from who this man was.

Ignoring your words, he stood up, grabbing you by your wrist and forcefully laid you down on your bed once again. Terrified, thoughts ran through your head trying to piece who this man was. Was he just your typical robber? Or was he here to kill you? Or worse. Was he M.F? Fuck what if he was? What would you even do?

Feeling the presence of the man above you snapped you out of your thoughts. “I know you’re worried. I know you’re scared. In fact, I know everything about you Y/n. You're so pretty and nice and kind.. Fuck. I love you. I love you Y/n.” he blabbered, holding eye contact with you.

“Who are you?” you questioned again, needing an answer right away. You were on edge. What if he was actually M.F? “Darling, i knew you were a bit stupid but this is rather severe.” he chuckled, dragging his finger along your cheek affectionately.

Just as you were going to ask him the question again, he cut you off. “Y/n have you ever wondered what M.F stood for?” he said, getting off you slowly walking around your room. Before you could even answer, he continued on. “M.F, it's rather peculiar you know? Why would he even know that much about you? It's creepy and weird.” Shaking your head in slight agreement, the man had a growing smile.

“Well Y/n, I am M.F. I am Miles Fairchild. I am the man who sends you creepy little letters. The very letters you throw out daily but it doesn’t matter. I know you’ll love me back. Reading my letters instead of instantly throwing them out was a sign that I knew. I knew you were the one. Y/n I love you so much.” The admiration was oozing from his mouth.

Not responding, Miles took this as a cue to step closer to you. “I’m really really sorry Y/n.” He said, shuffling around to take something out of his pocket. “You’re sorry for wh-“ you questioned but got cut off as miles hit the back of your neck, knocking you out.

“So sorry Angel, really.” Miles muttered as he dragged your body out to his car. Shutting his car door, he turned the radio on. Humming along with the tune of the song, he turned to your unconscious figure and smiled.

He was happy for once. He was sure he’d make you happy too.

#dollywony #iris blog #iri writes!!#miles fairchild #miles fairchild x reader #yandere #yandere miles fairchild x reader #the turning #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader

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kirnet · 24 days

Text

1.4k words. read on ao3

Rust Cohle lies in the dark and dreams of women.

He has since his wife, since his daughter, since the drugs and shell casings turned his neurochemistry into a nuclear holocaust. He sees things - the soft curve of Sophia’s flushed cheek, her lips stained purple by juice - in oncoming traffic, the headlights burning his eyes to the point of tears. Strands of hair dancing in the field of his vision against neon signs, soft laughter hidden in the beat of bird wings. Always intangible, always romanticized.

He doesn’t need to tell himself they’re not real. He knows.

He lies in the dark and thinks about women, the mattress springs digging into his bare back, watching the shadows under the crucifix nailed to the wall morph until he’s had enough. He’s not getting to sleep tonight, not anything deeper than a fluttering of his eyelids and the lucid dreams waiting in every corner. Pulls himself out of bed, lights a cigarette and sucks it down like oxygen as he stumbles through the blue light that fogs his hallway.

Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye, he pauses, but it’s just the small mirror nailed to the wall holding his askew reflection. He stops, leans forward, falls deep into the pit of his own gaze until he can feel the bottom. Good, there’s still a bottom to feel.

Realizing the cigarette between his lips has burned to nothing but a stub, he pulls back for another one, vertigo stretching his nerves to their thinnest as the air around him repressurizes. Fields of wheat sway in his vision, and for a moment he’s back in Texas, Claire’s fingernails tracing shapes in his arm as the truck stumbles down that dirt road-

He whips around. There is something there, not wheat, but a woman, her blonde hair tumbling down her front. A faux modesty, covering her breasts as she stands nude only a few steps from his mattress. The blindfold is still wrapped around her eyes, though he knows they’re an overcast blue, and the thorns and antlers are still tangled up in her scalp. They stand in silence, Rust trying to blink her away, but the murdered woman remains, the stab wounds in her stomach weeping congealed blood that drips to his floor. Her lips part - half smile and half scream - before they move, sounding out three silent syllables.

Rust narrows his eyes, steps closer, can feel the ice of her stare dripping down his spine when he can’t return it. “What?” he wants to ask, to grab hold of a ghost and get her to speak. But she just raises her arm to the side, burned dirt still trapped under her fingernails, her wrists bruised a midnight purple, and points to the wall.

When he turns to follow her gesture, all he finds is the simple wooden crucifix, the only adornment in a plane of impersonality. He knows she’s gone before he even looks, the smell of ozone lingering, but he still drops his gaze to the carpet, tries and fails to find dotted wine stains.

He checks his pulse. Doesn’t like what he feels.

She follows him around, a funeral procession for the living, always in late hours. Fluorescent bulbs at the station catching moths and buzzing at a frequency that makes him taste copper. He washes it away with coffee and another cigarette. She usually doesn’t pass the threshold through the front doors, doesn’t like all the noise or all the cops, Rust isn’t sure. But she enters when people begin to trickle out, keeps him company when Marty leaves to see his secretary. Or maybe it really is Maggie this time.

He knows her name now, Dora Lange, knows how she looked on her prom night, knows the gap-toothed smile she had when she was Sophia’s age. Right now she’s blue, bloated, her blood stuck in her legs when she was made to kneel. Her wounds have turned black, the once calligraphy-thin rivulets of blood staining wide marks down the length of her naked body. Sometimes he feels like a haruspex, studying the gore oozing from her gut as if it holds any answer, or sometimes he watches that strange swirl in between her shoulder blades long enough to make it move. It could hypnotize a lesser man.

Still can’t see her eyes through that blindfold, still doesn’t know what her voice sounds like. And maybe that’s a blessing, an interruption to whatever chains her to his side, something that stops her from haunting him completely. But Rust doesn’t believe in God or ghosts, so he ignores her, focus turned to the statements in front of him. Canvasing photos, her husband, her friend Carla. “Yesterday upon the stair, I met a man who wasn’t there… He wasn’t there again today.”

He can hear her antlers scrape against the window blinds like a bird trapped inside. He has to remind himself that they are an addition, a defilement, not a thing naturally growing out of her skull. She’s a hallucination, an unreality to file away with the rest of the women he knows the names of. Nothing more than neurons misfiring.

“I wish, I wish he’d go away.”

Her father wouldn’t bathe her.

The temperature drops as she nears. She smells like pine and salt, an Alaskan chill fogging his breath, but it’s really just a cloud of cigarette smoke curling lazily in the air. Twists, bends until it's a jagged spiral. A rudimentary shape. Primal. Something a child would draw in crayon. A pictogram etched into a cave wall.

There’s breath on his ear, three short bursts - and then she’s gone.

He knows it’s the right church the moment he steps out from the car.

Even with his back turned towards the structure, his hair catching the breeze off the lakes, he knows. The blackbirds erupt up together, flock, whirl in turn into a spiral that he sees every time he blinks..

It’s Lange’s body sketched in his ledger, her wounds and marks. It’s her history printed out in color and taped up in his apartment where she first appeared. He stares at her and thinks, eyes darting from the two dimensional copies to the decaying corpse a few feet away, a beer in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. Flies buzz and land on her antlers, but she doesn’t bat them away, she just waits.

Sometimes he forgets the shape of Sophia’s nose. He can draw Lange’s lips from memory.

“Devil nets” is what that pastor had called the bundles of sticks they found Lange with. “Bird nets.” Catch the Devil before he gets too close. Trap a girl while she can still sing. Something to tie together to keep the hands busy. A cross. A cage.

She’s in the back of the car, leaking out all over the interior, not that Marty notices as he slams the door closed and strides to the husk of the church’s foundation. It would almost be funny, the way this woman made of smoke and vapor has to stoop to fit her antlers in this physical space, but Rust is too filled with electricity to care. He follows behind Marty, his ledger buzzing underneath his palm, the very fabric of the universe opening to welcome him in.

An owl waits in the charred rafters, watching the men below with half lidded eyes, some sort of angel above the sad mortality of men. Rust can feel Lange’s burning interest in the creature, jealousy maybe, before it spooks and flutters away, utterly silent. Marty doesn’t notice as he toes away at some debris, can’t smell the thunder-crack static in her hair even after she’s been tailing Rust for weeks. Lange pulls her blind but seeing eyes away, her bare feet gliding over splinters and nails, and points. Her jaw works, a fish gasping in oxygen.

She’s not real. They don’t talk; he won’t and she can’t. But there’s a trust there, a knowing in his ancient hindbrain that this is intuition, that this must be the religion that Marty and the other cops yap about. A truth that burns away any darkness.

She can’t talk so Rust does it for her, calls Marty over before he’s even started to move towards the mess of vines. She can’t touch, so he pulls the foliage away, revealing a crude charcoal figure drawn in the exact way she was found in; kneeling, naked, hands bound. But it’s faceless, no mouth given shape on the worn concrete.

Dora Lange’s mouth opens, and Rust cannot tell if she is laughing or screaming.

#true detective #rust cohle #dora lange #my writing #im gonna go apeshit abt dora forever now SHE COULD HAVE BEEN SO NUANCED

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wheregoodthingsthrive · 8 months

Text

Hellsing Headcanon Mass Post

I had been wanting to make one of these for a long while. Compiling a lot of my overly fleshed out ideas for the Hellsing five especially is a fixation for me and a lot of these are 8+ years in the making. This is long and covers Seras, Integra, Pip, and Walter. Alucard isn't in here cause I want the others to get more love lmao. I'll do Iscariot and Alucard eventually. I just want to try this out-- I want to make more Hellsing friends, especially one's willing to build on the lush free real estate we have here :3

Seras Victoria

Born February 9th 1979*

I refuse to believe she was 19 and a cop. *I don’t know how old I want her to be exactly but part of me thinks she’s either Integra’s age (22) or younger by a few months. I refuse.

Her middle name is Marie, which is her mother’s name,

Speaking of her parents -- her parents, Marie and John-Mark Victoria, were an elementary teacher and a cop (duh) respectively.

They were a pretty chill middle class family, known in their community pretty well as they were often involved in a lot.

So the brutal breaking and entering double homicide of the family and the orphaning of Seras was a big deal. It was in the local news. Definitely contributes to Seras having an intense need to NOT stand out.

Her time at the orphanage is a seriously blocked out time period for her and for good reason -- it was a very emotionally and mentally isolating place. And she was disciplined. A lot. As canon explores, she was very violent, aggressive, and apprehensive of relations. She never truly got the therapy she needed and she surely thought the orphanage’s religious predisposition would not help.

Protestant turned skeptical agnostic. She never understands religion all that well after her traumatic childhood.

She went to a private school until her graduation. She had a massive passion in the law and enforcement, leading her to become a cop for emotional reasons she could never really place (traumatic memory blocking lmao)

Despite being picked on and being seen as a little lesser, Seras really did enjoy her job as a cop and hoped to one day become a sergeant or a head of the office. Her fellow coworkers really wanted to see her succeed…

In/Beyond Hellsing

The TV show was onto something with having Seras and Integra have quite the strained relationship. Seras just wanted to be liked and definitely understood that she was seen as an ‘invader’ into this strange little found family.

I don’t have much more on this in terms of Seras’ side because Integra’s side has more potential for nuance. See Integra section. <3

Overall, Seras has a very skittish relationship with everyone. She does get close to Walter though, as he’s the most merciful with her regarding her development as a Hellsing agent and vampire alike. She gets on the tradition of being up early enough to enjoy morning tea with him. (She can’t drink it but it helps her feel normal)

Her vampiric arm CAN formulate into a normal, fleshy arm but she prefers it not to as it reminds her of her strength. She can equally dissipate a lot of her body, mainly her eyes and back alongside her arm, but she can’t go full shadow like Alucard can on a whim.

Vampires of different classes have different arrays of abilities. Seras learns a lot of hers is illusionary and omnipresence. Shadow work, shape shifting, illusions, and expert third-eye vision are her specialties.

Miscellaneous

Her favorite drink was London fog or a classic pint of beer. Her sweet tooth was unbeatable.

She has a nice list of hobbies and interests! She loves dancing, can crochet, learning calligraphy for fun,

Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing

Born June 17th 1977

It’s van Helsing but whatever. Hellsing is the popularized version of the surname but if you ever ask her to sign a document or write her name, she always fills it out as ‘van Helsing’ because it is “correct”.

Childhood and Parents

Integra is conceived out of wedlock between Arthur and Ahalya. They met in 1975 and Integra was born three months after their official wedding. Both of her parents were on the older side.

Her ‘bastard’ status was a big issue in her inheritance and caused, frankly, a lot of tension between Arthur and Richard and more so doubts among the Round Table.

Arthur defended his decision till the day he died. Integra was the best thing that ever happened to him.

I AM TIRED OF SEEING NEGLIGENT FATHER ARTHURS. WAKE UP GUYS.

Arthur was a devoted, very loving, very gracious father. Meeting Ahalya and really taking the Hellsing position seriously since his 30s helped prepare him to be an engaging father and dedicated spouse. While he was busy and often away, any moment he got with Integra was intentional and held his undivided attention.

Integra’s mother was present until she was ten. Her mother was a little less emotional but equally loving. She was very adamant on Integra’s education and development into a young, respectable lady. She was very against Integra becoming the next head of Hellsing but Arthur was insistent.

While not always perfect, Integra and her mother got along. Her mother passed away in the spring of 1987 due to terminal illness.

She was basically raised by Walter whenever neither of her parents were around. They were the best of friends and could read each other like books. Where Arthur taught her the occult and leadership, her mother etiquette and poise, Walter taught her self-reliance and strong headedness.

Their relationship was not always perfect and definitely hit a rocky patch when Alucard returned. She still never understood what their deal was.

Early adult years - Integra is the most socially inept but poised individual. Talking to men? Talking to women? It’s near impossible. She’s a brick wall. She’s real fun at parties when she is either obligated or strongly convinced to go to them.

Definitely earns herself a Elizabeth I reputation. The only time she ever dated was when she was 15 and she had a picnic with a guy her age once. Never again.

Hellsing Era

Integra’s ascent into the head of the organization was agonizingly painful. Walter served as her legal guardian and Alucard was her…strange project.

This is truly when she adopted her more masculine persona and this…closed off nature. It was the only way she saw herself being protected from all the prying, doubting, and slander of the bureaucracies. Was this damaging to her? Absolutely.

Despite this, she grew very close with her father’s trusted friends. Penwood is more at an arm's length while surprisingly, despite his intensity, Irons is her closest among the RTC.

Irons definitely sees Integra as his daughter as well, not even as Arthur’s child.

Her relationship with Alucard at this time is very odd. Mentor/mentee, master/servant, Hellsing/vampire. She didn’t quite know how to appreciate him at this time

A major contributor to their relationship growing was her discovery of Hellsing experiments and frankly more shameful works. While not inherently positive to their dynamic, it definitely changed the way she viewed Alucard forever.

Adding onto the Seras/Integra segment here from Integra’s perspective. Integra can not afford to lose her ‘normal’. She is a creature of habit and stability. She would never admit it but the upheaval of her life via the death of her father, the absenteeism of Walter, the introduction of Alucard, her first kill, etc. ruined her perceived safety and it took her many years to regain it.

She had a new, safe, constant normal with Walter and Alucard. So when Seras is introduced, Integra feels threatened. Her vampire acted irrationally and now she has to pay for it (literally and socially). Seras was an unfactored element to her that invaded her life and threw her into disarray. Obviously, this feeling does not last forever, but she detests Seras at first.

I could also make a point about Integra having no real positive feminine influences in her life after her mother dies. She lives in such a masculine bubble that when Seras is introduced, she frankly does not know how to respond to a positive, feminine presence. That’s a whole other bag of marshmallows for another time.

Post-Hellsing

She dies fifteen years after the time skip finale from natural causes.

Miscellaneous

Operas are her favorite. Her favorite is Tosca. Her favorite activity with Arthur in her youth was to attend the opera and ballets and the likes.

She pulls just as much as Arthur did. :)

She is fluent in Dutch and English, and knows a decent handful of French and German from her governess days.

Pip Bernadotte

Born March 27th 1972. Left handed.

His full name is Pierre Andre. ‘Pip’ stuck in his youth.

I have an unhealthy loyalty to believing he is French-Belgian-Columbian. Why Columbian? Because I said so.

His father served on a mercenary job in Columbia where he met Pip’s mother and he brought her back to Europe with him. Pip was born in Belgium and his parents split up shortly after his birth but they never married. He was left with his dad as his mother returned to the Americas.

He was primarily raised by her grandfather due to his father’s pretty constant absenteeism but whenever his father was around, it was very pleasant and he has a good, positive recollection of his father.

His grandfather though? It was complicated. He was a stern disciplinarian.

His father passed away in Pip’s 20s. They hadn’t seen each other for a few years leading up to his death, not in a negative way…just…kinda went down their own paths.

Pip skipped Belgium and backpacked all around Europe for a long time after his basic level education. He used to have aspirations of being an actor but well we all saw what he actually is so say goodbye to the dream.

He was engaged at least three times. Absolute dumbass heartbreaker.

This is a running joke with the Wild Geese and definitely contributed to his dedication to Seras. She really made him want to settle and stop and be still. Sobs.

Leading up to Hellsing/Hellsing

He was dumb, young, and had both eyes when he joined his first mercenary group. It was not the Wild Geese but there were some guys in there he met who would soon coagulate into the WG.

That being said, he found he could make more money if he ran the show, so entered the formation of the Wild Geese.

When he lost his eye, he temporarily considered getting a fake glass eye but (thank you cocolacola <3) Seras gave him the eyepatch as a “welcome to Hellsing sorry for flicking you” offering.

He’s got some unsorted trauma from losing his eye but he’s an adamant “it’s not that bad I don’t need to talk about it” kind of guy. Toxic masculinity or whatever.

In general. He’s got a lot of unresolved/undiscussed trauma. Will he ever discuss it? No.

Y’know. I feel he and Walter clicked too. They’re both a pair of war dogs who refuse to talk about being said war dogs. Pip is also under the illusion that Walter is pretty normal too until he soon realizes he is NOT. Pip and Walter worked together a lot in creating training drills, tweaking defense systems, and Pip ran the whole “this is our new defense plan” by the latter and both were maybe too excited to bond over insane artillery.

Pip is not allowed in the gunshop though.

When it comes to Integra, this man has mad respect for her and after the first greeting, he would never dare to disrespect her to her face or without good humor.

Alucard is another…can of worms. Pip and Alucard have this odd ‘bro code’ honor between them but not much else. Really Pip only talks to Alucard because Seras serves as some type of liaison.

As Seras’ familiar, I feel he develops ‘powers’- in a non-traditional sense.

Memory barricades, psychic blocks/links, a minor form of omnipresence, and an adaptation of Seras’ skills when he branches out of her arm.

He can materialize fully but not for long and is tethered to Seras via her shadow, so if that is cut, he dissipates.

Miscellaneous

He is a polyglot! French, Dutch, Italian, Spanish, English fluently. Arabic, German, and Greek intermittently.

He's a pescetarian. A failing one.

Pip is a practicing Protestant but you’d never hear him be too open about it and he’s not a calendar Christian either. He’s pretty devoted.

Walter C. Dornez

Born September 30th, 1930. Left handed.

The ‘C’ stands for Christaan: yes that’s how it’s spelled, it’s Dutch.

This is my small blip on anon about his parents

Tldr; Walter is maternally a Seward. His mother is Seward’s daughter and served as a nurse in WWI. She’s also the original holder of the monofilament wires, a vampire hunting weapon devised by the Sewards and their assistance to Hellsing in the early 1890s-1910-20s.

His father is from the Netherlands and served in the war.

He grew up in Rotterdam, Netherlands, until May 1940 when the Nazis invaded the Netherlands.

In their exit from continent Europe, his parents parted ways. Mother took him to England, father stayed behind to aid resistance. He never came back.

His mother left him in the stead of Hellsing as they are technically family friends and also left him with her precious wires.

Started as a hall-boy, moved to a footman in 1941 and then was conscripted into Hellsing full-time forces in 1942, earning the moniker the same year.

A 14 year old being a butler is ridiculous. As a history major, one who has an area of study in grand-house culture (staff and aristocracy) and hierarchy, it would be UNFOUNDED to have someone so young and seemingly inexperienced serving in a role like that.

Now when he’s older? Plausible. Especially given the decline in house staff necessity, especially after the war. So anyways, his official title is butler to the Hellsing family and valet to Sir Hellsing.

Dawn Era and Further

He was the Hellsing infantry’s lil guy. His only friends were grown men who were either scared of him or thought he was puny. He definitely had to work for his respect and favor, with lots of blood, sweat, and tears.

A big credit to his success in the ranks was his aptitude with gunsmithing. Making Hellsing’s literal arms makes you a valuable player.

If he wasn’t using wires, he was using his own handcrafted sniper rifle: Pandora.

This will be indulgent.

Warsaw, Poland 1944. Kid can not remember any of it save for emotions, blurry recollection, and now his neck hurts on occasion.

That Captain fight left him unrecognizable, even to himself, and absolutely shattered the early camaraderie he TRIED to have Alucard.

He struggled to reconcile that Hellsing was any different than Millennium given he felt they were both out for him, just in different ways.

Sometimes it’s best he doesn't remember.

Poland definitely changed him for the worse - intense conditioning to violence made it near impossible for him to adapt back to the real world and being so pivotal in Hellsing forces so early on gave him quite the ego.

He attended Balliol Harvard to study politics and economics. It was a fine time. Definitely awoke something in him. GAY. HE’S GAY. College was in general not too kind to him in the regard that trying to go back to a strange calm after his tumultuous teen years was……..immensely damaging to his psyche.

Alucard. God where do I start. They had a…rivals to friends to no-contact to rivals to coworkers to friends to lovers (?) to amorous thoughts to haters to rivals to classy exes to…vampire fights in leather. It’s complicated.

Integra is his absolute darling. He loves her so much despite being a ‘I hate kids’ individual leading up to that. He loved her as the daughter he never had/never will have and also because it evened Arthur out completely.

Speaking of Arthur. Walter and Arthur have a complicated relationship- not quite father/son, not quite employer/employee, not quite sir/valet. Arthur was almost too casual with Walter early on but later, they developed a strange, taut but friendly mutual respect.

Events of Hellsing

He died in ep5. He looked like a shattered jam jar on the streets of London when the Captain was done with him. I refuse to accept otherwise.

Vampirism obviously saved him- for better or for worse is up to you.

This is another bag of marshmallows but I like to think his vampire form is. Uncanny. He’s got some strange new features that distinctly set him apart from natural vampires, a common trait with Millennium engineered vampires.

Miscellaneous

Woman magnet. This man pulled from his 20s to his 40s. Crazy thing though? This man is not into women. Lmao. He has the ‘single attractive bachelor who is single for a reason’ vibe.

Despite not being a fan of Arthur’s…colorful liveliness…he did some fun, maybe wild things in his youth too. He was no stranger to drinking, going to clubs, dancing, and has perhaps tried a substance or two. Anything to cope.

Not even he knows how the wires work…he only knows they listen to him.

They also function like web shooters or hooks if he controls the tension correctly.

He is decked in scars from monofilament training. Has almost lost fingers MANY TIMES

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #hellsing the dawn #long post #long text #headcanons #seras victoria #integra fairbrook wingates hellsing #integra hellsing #pip bernadotte #walter dornez #walter c dornez #character building and lore building #my own ideas in long form #please interact with this i am begging #go zero notes go!!

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throughtrialbyfire · 10 months

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thinking about dragons and their impact on the surroundings of their lairs, especially in places or seasons that conflict with their elements. fire dragons in snowy climates, frost dragons in hot climates, things like that.

for example, perhaps word gets around in a small community, too far from their walled city to have the protection they need, as to what paths to take up the snowy mountains so as not to fall into the clutches of one of these risen beasts. perhaps even the signs that one is close to a lair. what to watch out for. behavior changes in animals, or even changes in the types of flora growing up the paths. not even the sabre cats, brave, hardy beasts of the wild, will venture that far north up that stretch of road, not for prey, not for anything.

perhaps a traveler stops by at this small community's inn, for work or for trade or just for a night's rest. asks the innkeeper for work. the innkeeper, half-pleading, hands over a piece of parchment. "the jarl's men dropped this by today, maybe you can look into it."

but it's not from the jarl's men. it's nowhere near the plumed, neat calligraphy of anyone in the hold's court. the traveler can see it, plain as day, this is a town's desperate cry for help. maybe their children have thought themselves fit to fight a dragon. maybe they never came home. livestock taken here and there, or soldiers wandered off for the city never to be seen because they missed the crucial signs of a dragon's lair.

whatever the case, the traveler rests for the night. by morning, the plan is made, to see this dragon and where it resides with their own eyes.

the town is collectively holding its breath. some had chided the innkeeper for dragging an outsider into their mess. some had praised the innkeeper. whatever the case, a town is waiting to see if this person, too, joins the piles of bones.

at first, the incline up the pathway isn't so bad. the traveler finds their footing. the snow makes things difficult, and when it starts to come down in sheets, the way ahead is hard to see. but after ducking into a cave and starting a small campfire, waiting, the snow passes, and the journey begins again.

there's nothing out of the ordinary at first, to the point the traveler thinks it was all a joke to play on some adventure-craving stranger. but then, they notice with furrowed brow, the wildlife has become less and less. where once was cavebears and frost trolls, things the traveler took down with ease nowadays, there's the occasional deer. a frost rabbit. nothing much larger, it seems. and the snow is getting thinner, softer, and the traveler curses to themself on how they should have worn sturdier boots for the slush they begin to traverse through.

the snow turns into mud, and where the air once felt clear, there's a pervading sense of smoke, something off in the distance and indescribable. not quite like flesh burning, not quite like wood. the plants, too, seem to have noticed. the tops of trees, after a certain height, are shorn off as though something massive scraped its heel along their grand heights. the traveler looks up, but all they see are the trees, the bare sky, the dark closing in.

the path twists in odd angles, but now there's bones along its length. deer, wolves, a cave bear skull or two. fresh ones, dead ones, an intoxicating smell of decay. the traveler tenses. pushes a hand over their nose. keeps going, despite the smell, the oily scraps still there along the ridge of a frost troll's spine.

the snow is all but gone now. in its place, thick grasses. odd, the traveler thinks, how this deep in winter and this high up the mountain, it's as though it were spring. the grasses scratch their mud-caked boots and pull the traveler up the further incline, beckoning the curiosity that burns deeper into them. the bones have become a common sight. some are even of men. and the stench of fire has become more evident than before.

at the final stretch of road, the traveler takes in their surroundings. what was once frost, ice, and wild, is now silent beyond anything they have ever experienced. all animals, as though warned by kynareth herself, have fled this mountain. there's a stench of rot along the plants, as though the heat is decaying their leaves, and the traveler has to take a moment to remove their thick outer garments to stop the heat from taking them, too.

at last, they find the dragon.

perched atop a wall in scrawled script no one alive could surely know, sleeping among its collection of bones, the sky stinks of sulfur and fire. the ground is cracked, mangled by the sudden disappearance of all moisture. the trees have gone from lush, vital evergreens to scorched husks, dark shadows, stark and sharp against one another. no insects squirm. no birds fly.

there is only the fire dragon, and a traveler who thinks themself brave enough to face it.

#skyrim #tesblr #tes v #tes v skyrim #skyrim headcanon #does this count as a fic. i have no idea #this started off as a simple headcanon post and became This AUGH #my writing #bishop.txt

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midnightshade · 2 months

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🏮 𝐀 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 🏮 | Kenjaku's reaction to seeing you in lingerie

𖤐 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,603

𖤐 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Female Reader, Reader has a pussy, Third-Person POV, not beta read, biting to draw blood, creampie, light choking, slight breeding kink

𖤐 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: N/A

𖤐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"I'll be back soon."

A lone woman walked through the streets of Tokyo, tucking her phone back into her pocket as the call ended. To anyone else on the street, she was a normal woman. In reality, she was anything but.

She was centuries old despite her youthful appearance, but then, this wasn't her original body. Coming from the Kamakura era, she had only managed to cheat death with the aid of one man.

Kenjaku.

Ever since the two of them met, she had been faithfully serving as his assistant. He liked her enough to continue bringing her back from death, using the bodies of others as suitable vessels.

It never bothered her, knowing that someone else had to die for her to come back. She refused to feel guilty about living and she was thankful to Kenjaku for the continued gift of life.

For centuries, she had been loyal to him, not out of obligation, but out of want. He made life interesting; she enjoyed his company.

She loved him.

Staying with Kenjaku, making him happy – It was enough for her.

The crowd carried her with them through the busy streets like the current of a river, and she allowed herself to be pulled along. She took the time to sightsee, looking around at all the different shops and stalls from clothing stores to arcades and food stands.

Occasionally, she would pop in and browse the selections, but none seemed to catch her eye today. . .except for one.

She stumbled over her own feet, nearly colliding with a man in front of her. Quickly regaining her balance, she pushed her way out of the crowd and towards the shop.

It was small and easy to miss, tucked away between two larger buildings. The face of the building was styled like a traditional Japanese minka house, and the sign was written in ink calligraphy, broadcasting its primary wares: lingerie.

The juxtaposition between this traditional style and the items being sold immediately piqued her interest. She stepped inside, finding the theming on the outside to be consistent with the interior. The shop was designed like a tea room, with clean tatami mats.

She took her shoes off, spotting a place to leave them before continuing inside. There were a variety of different mannequins dressed up in different styles of lingerie.

A worker spotted her, coming over to greet her and welcome her into the store with a polite bow. "Hello! May I help you today? Looking for anything in particular?"

As she examined the store, a mischievous idea began to form in her mind. She walked over to one of the mannequins, examining the high quality material it was dressed in.

"Yes, please. I would appreciate the help."

──────

An artificial night had fallen within Dagon's Domain. The ocean waves lapped at the shore, creating a tranquil atmosphere that stretched towards the Tiki Hut sitting just beyond the treeline.

The building was of modest make, containing only two bedrooms, a kitchenette, and a shower. Curses may not need to sleep or eat, but their human allies did.

One of whom stood within the master bedroom, adjusting her new outfit in front of a full-length mirror.

She admired her form, running her hands up her body and over the red rope that mapped itself across her skin. The lingerie was styled after shibari, made of soft threaded rope that allowed easy access to her bare chest and pussy.

The only thing keeping her modesty was a silken robe overtop, styled loosely after a yukata. It was black with a red floral pattern. Red lace adorned the front, along with red stitching on the seams.

This type of luxury was a rarity for her to indulge in, but it had been a while since she and Kenjaku did something like this. This was as much a surprise gift for him as it had been for her.

The thought of that made her heart skip a beat. Even after centuries spent at his side, it was still so easy to feel like a lovestruck teenager doing these types of things.

The ivory sheets felt cool to the touch as she climbed into the master bed. She closed her eyes, breathing out slowly as she moved her hands down her body, relaxing against the plush surface.

Kenjaku would be back any minute now. His face would be priceless, she was sure of it. She suppressed a giggle, imagining it, as her hands moved down to the in-between on her thighs.

Her giggles died down, turning into soft moans as she spread her folds apart with her fingers. Her cunt clenched around nothing and she bit her lip, already imagining Kenjaku on top of her.

"Fuck. . .Kenjaku," she moaned out, her now trembling fingers beginning to rub at her throbbing clit.

She dipped her fingers down, collecting some of the slick that was beginning to build as her arousal grew, but she didn't get far before she heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

Kenjaku was home.

For a moment, she found herself conflicted. Should she stop now or should she keep going and let him watch?

Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away from her core, sitting up and adjusting her robe so that she was properly covered. Shs was just in time, as the door opened with a silent 'click' just as she finished adjusting her robe.

Kenjaku walked in through the bedroom door. Unlike usual, he was not wearing his Gojo-kesa, instead opting for a pair of black pants and a black shirt.

It's not like it mattered. The vessel he was in now, Suguru Geto, was more than handsome enough to pull off just about any look. Kenjaku's confidence always helped as well.

He paused in the doorway, his eyes immediately landing on her form, sprawled out seductively on the bed.

"Welcome home," she purred. Her voice was dripping in amusement as she watched Kenjaku. She would be lying if she said she didn't feel the slightest bit proud of herself for managing to catch him off guard.

Any trace of surprise was quickly wiped from his face, replaced with his typical self-assured smile that she'd come to love so much.

He walked over to the bed, his eyes never once leaving hers. He stopped in front of her, and his hand came to rest against her cheek. She closed her eyes, immediately leaning into his touch.

"Isn't this a pleasant surprise," he soothed. "What's the occasion?"

At his question, she chuckled and kissed his palm. "Do I need an occasion to surprise you? Maybe I just wanted to show my appreciation."

His hand moved down from her cheek to wrap around her throat. His grip was firm, but not enough to harm her. She gasped, pupils dilating as her skin prickled with anticipation.

He made her look at him, and she clenched her thighs together when she saw his gaze clouded with lust.

"Who am I to deny you, then? If you're so eager to offer yourself up to me, I think I'd like to unwrap my gift."

She breathed out, already feeling heady with anticipation. All she could manage was a small nod, which seemed to be enough as Kenjaku firmly pushed her back against the bed.

The bed sank as Kenjaku climbed into bed with her, not bothering with his own clothing as he loomed over her. He leaned down to catch her lips in a kiss, squeezing a little more firmly as he did.

Kissing Kenjaku was always an event. Whether he was being rough or slow, his kisses were always hungry and filled with passion. He bit at her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. The sting of pain was welcome, and she opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue to slip inside her mouth without argument.

As Kenjaku kissed her, his hands began to roam up and down her body, feeling the lace of her robe and groping at her tits through the fabric. She held his face in her palms as she kissed him back with equal passion, moaning even as she tasted her own blood. She nipped playfully at his tongue, arching her back to be closer to him.

Kenjaku began to grind himself against her, and she could feel how hard he was getting already just by kissing her. Feeling coy, she removed one of her hands from his face, rubbing at his clothed erection.

He growled against her lips, breaking the kiss. He stared down at her, lips bruised and bleeding from his bite. His own cheeks were flushed slightly.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling it away from his aching cock. When she whined, he grinned down at her.

"Needy, aren't we? You never were very patient," he teased

She pouted at the accusation. "You're not much better right now. You look like you're about to cum in your pants."

Kenjaku laughed, releasing her wrist. "Maybe we're both a little pent up. These last few weeks have been busy."

He wasn't wrong. With their plans finally so close to starting, the last several weeks had been a whirlwind of activity just ensuring everything would run smoothly. It was as exciting as it was stressful.

They hardly had a moment to themselves anymore.

Her gaze softened slightly as she sat up, reaching to kiss the stitches along his forehead. No matter what body he was in, she only loved him.

"Then use me however you'd like tonight," she whispered, pressing more gentle kisses against the stitching.

Kenjaku shivered at her touch, suppressing a breathy moan. His stitches were always a sensitive spot for him, and the offer of doing whatever he wanted was just too good. His dick throbbed painfully in anticipation.

His eyes immediately went back to her robe, admiring the outfit as he traced the red lace. "This suits you. You should dress like this more often."

She smiled at the compliment, directing his hand to the sash that kept the robe closed. "You haven't even seen the actual outfit yet. I picked it out just for you."

Kenjaku moved her back against the bed, letting her settle down before he finally pulled the knot. He opened the robe, admiring the sight laid out before him.

"Beautiful," he groaned, tracing his hand over her bare skin. He watched as her skin prickled under his touch, as if every cell in her body rose with anticipation to be touched by him.

He looked down, seeing her petals were dripping with her arousal and her cunt was clenching around nothing, desperate to be fucked.

She looked up at him in anticipation, but before Kenjaku gave her what she wanted, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, exposing his muscular chest. The X-shaped scar across his Vessel's chest always caught her eye, and she couldn't help but to reach up and trace it.

Kenjaku hummed at the touch, allowing her to smooth her hand over his skin while he pulled his cock free from the confines of his pants. He sighed in relief as his dick sprung loose, hard and throbbing.

Suguru's body certainly didn't disappoint. The man was a work of art; lithe and muscular like a wild cat with that long, silky black hair she could spend hours playing with. His cock was long and thick, curving gently up with a supple head.

"You really are needy," she teased, watching as pearls of pre-cum dripped down the side of his shaft.

"You're no better," he responded, quickly folding her legs back as he mounted her.

She felt his cockhead nudge against her entrance and she relaxed, feeling him begin to push his way inside of her. Both of them groaned as he slotted himself inside, her velvety soft walls gripping his shaft and sucking him in deeper.

His pelvis met her own when he finally sheathed himself fully inside. Time stood still as they savored this moment, adjusting to the blissful embrace of each other's bodies.

"You always feel so good for me," he said, leaning in and pressing his forehead against hers. "No matter what vessel. This pussy of yours takes me so well."

She grinned shakily, pecking at his lips. "So glad I can make myself useful."

As Kenjaku began to rock his hips, starting a steady rhythm, he hummed and closed his eyes, savoring each blissful drag of her walls against his cock.

"No one else," he muttered, his voice trailing off as he failed to finish the thought, choosing instead to focus on kissing and nipping at her jaw.

She moaned as he began to fuck into her, the room quickly filling with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Her thoughts began to grow fuzzy, lost in the feelings of pleasure he was giving her.

Kenjaku's expression was beautiful, and it struck her that she was the only one lucky enough to see him like this regularly. Mouth parted, eyebrows furrowed, and his pale face dusted a pretty shade of pink.

She would gladly sacrifice her body to him like this any time he asked. This was all she wanted in return – to bring him pleasure and comfort.

Kenjaku's hands held her thighs back against her chest as he properly mounted her, getting more aggressive with his thrusts as his pleasure began to climb.

He smothered her cries with a hungry kiss, forcing his tongue back inside her mouth as he began to jackhammer his hips into hers. His touch was no longer just firm, it was rough.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, gasping into his mouth as his dick throbbed deep inside of her, desperate to fill her with his seed.

His fat cockhead pounded against her cervix as he violently bucked into her, his hips colliding with hers and leaving bruises, proof of his love for her.

Kenjaku's fat balls smacked rhythmically with his thrusts, each time sending sparks of pleasure careening through his body. He moaned, grinding into her with every thrust.

"I should have put a baby in you years ago," he panted against her lips. "I'll have to make up for lost time."

She clenched hard around his shaft, gasping in delight at the thought. Her nails dug into his back as she cried out. "Please! Kenjaku, please. Don't pull out."

He grinned, moving one hand away from her thigh to pull her hair, forcing her to bare her throat. He bit down harshly, leaving a mark as he growled out, "Everyone will know you're mine."

The pleasure reached a fever pitch as they both reached their climax. Her body locked and spasmed as she pulsed around him, sucking him in deeper. Kenjaku breathed in sharply, emptying his balls deep inside of her.

She could feel his dick twitching with every pulse, painting her insides white, and for several moments, they stayed like that, enjoying the comfort of each other's bodies.

When Kenjaku finally let her thighs down, she collapsed onto the bed, totally spent. Her chest heaved with effort, but her entire body felt heavy and relaxed.

Kenjaku didn't pull out, instead opting to pull her on top of him as he laid back against the cool sheets. He pressed soft kisses against her face, petting her hair as he basked in the afterglow.

He rubbed his hand down her back, taking another opportunity to admire the lingerie she had gotten just for him.

He smiled, pulling her closer as she began to drift off, his cock still snuggly slotted inside of her.

"Thank you for this gift."

©Midnightshade. All rights reserved. Do NOT repost, reupload, or modify my works. Do not translate my works, do not link to them or recommend them on other websites, and do not use them for AI training

#kenjaku x reader #jjk reader insert #reader insert #female reader #midnight's grimoire #sin of lust

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