#i feel like this also really shows like. a good step in my journey with my fear of bugs

[obae-me]

The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.��

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer spoilers

[kitten4sannie]

ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏʀɴꜱ

ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ/ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ ➠ ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ

pairing: demon lord! hongjoong x angel! reader (fem) feat. angel superior! seonghwa

genre: angel/demon au, smut

summary: you are sent to the fourth circle of hell to deliver a message to the demon lord that resides there. he has something to deliver to you in return.

w.c: 3.4k

warnings: sacrilegious vibes, dom! hongjoong, bratty sub! reader, praise/degradation, a lot of angel/demon stuff, voyeurism/exhibitionism, manhandling, brief choking, brief spit play, anal, unprotected doggy style, angel wings as an erogenous zone, creampie

a/n: so ik this is feb filth fest and filth is expected but this one right hereeee is just wrong on so many levels lol. also i do plan on making a sequel for this where joong and reader put angel hwa in his place ^^ but for now i hope you enjoy you sinners~ also be warned that the song rec is a tiny bit heavy hehe aside from it being from one of my fave bands i just felt like that song really fit the fic <3

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ᴅɪᴀᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ʙʏ ᴅᴇꜰᴛᴏɴᴇꜱ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“Deliver this to Lord Hongjoong,” your superior Seonghwa ordered, holding out a tightly-wrapped scroll inside his golden talons and dropping it into your open palms. “He’s in the fourth circle.” 

“As you wish, Master Park.” Swallowing what felt like sand down your dry throat, you placed the scroll into your messenger bag and closed it, the corners of your lips twitching slightly. 

“Nervous, are we?” The high-ranking angel folded his arms across his bare chest, your eyes focusing on the glowing sigils etched into his skin, a wave of jealousy blinding you for a split second. 

“Nervous? Why would I be nervous?” you replied hastily, your feathered wings lowering slightly. 

Seonghwa tilted his head to the side, eyeing you up and down as though he already knew your thoughts and motivations. “Lord Hongjoong is captivated by greed, as you know. He’s fond of excess…self-indulgence…” He lowered one talon to run it along your jaw, making you wince. “He can be very tempting in that aspect. Will you be able to resist?” 

Not knowing the answer yourself, you decided to respond to him with another question, “Is this some sort of test?” 

He clutched your jaw on either side, lowering himself down so that he could study you closely with his piercing blue eyes. “If you want to move up, you’ll have to show me that you can resist the sins that the flesh yearns for.” One of his talons scraped down along your neck to your breast bone, lightly enough to make you shiver. “Can you do that for me, Miss Y/N?” 

Feeling like you were already being tempted by your angelic superior, you did your best to force those conflicting emotions down, nodding your head as adamantly as you could and replying in a stern voice, “Yes, Master Park.” 

He gave you a small smirk, before letting go of you and turning around, his large, extravagant wings folding inwards and concealing most of his elegant frame. “Good. Now go.” 

࿏࿏࿏

By the time you had made your way past the third circle of hell and were finally entering the dark, hellish terrain of the fourth, you had felt a few waves of heat and pressure infiltrate your mind and body. It succeeded in making you feel heavier, as though you were underwater, forcing you to continue your journey on foot, rather than using your wings. 

Gracefully stepping into the dark, bubbling pool of water that surrounded Lord Hongjoong’s domain, you rolled your eyes when a few small demons began to grab and scratch at your ankles. You huffed, feeling out of breath, but continued to wade through the abyss, a small smirk on your flushed face. “Pathetic.” 

They continued their pursuit to frighten you, pulling and tugging at the wispy material hanging from your dress, making feeble attempts to drag you underneath. “You’re going to have to try harder than that,” you spat, holding up the damp folds of your skirt and wading through the deeper water, the large iron throne of the demon lord now in plain view. 

Hongjoong sat with his legs spread open, one hand resting against his chin, his bare, tattoo-covered body on full display, a woven crown of spiraling black thorns sitting comfortably on the top of his head. His crimson eyes glowed against the darkness of the vast cavern, watching you struggling to reach him, his face remaining neutral. 

You eventually made it to the deepest section of the water, the throne area sitting high above you, forcing you to angle your head upwards, the ends of your hair dipping into the black abyss below.

“What brings you here, angel?” the Demon Lord questioned, uttering the last word as though it were an insult, his commanding voice permeating all the way from his throne down to your pointed ears. 

“I come with a message from Lord Park.” 

He sat up from his relaxed position, leaning forward and resting his darkened, soot-covered hands in between his muscular thighs. “A message, hm? How trivial must it be if he couldn’t even bother to give it to me himself?” 

“I don’t know. I just do as I’m told.” You swatted some of the smaller demons away from you, having to use more force when a few of the bigger ones began pulling at your hair and your thin clothes, threatening to strip you right then and there. 

“Mm, of course you do.” Studying the way your dress clung desperately to your untarnished, glistening skin, he continued, his voice dripping with sin, “Why would he send such a delicious-looking follower to me all on her own with no one to protect her? It’s like you’re begging me to devour you.” 

“I can protect myself, demon,” you growled, shoving another cackling creature away from you, unable to keep it from shredding the lower half of your dress with one quick swipe of its claws, exposing your thighs. 

Hongjoong licked his lips, emitting a low chuckle, now finding your presence to be quite entertaining. “But you can’t seem to protect your precious garments. Weren’t they sewn by Lord Seonghwa himself? He won’t be very happy to see you in such an indecent state.”

“He’ll understand knowing I had to travel to such a filthy, unforgivable place,” you panted, about to continue describing how awful Hongjoong’s residence was when two of his demonic followers began tugging on both of your wings, causing you to let out an involuntary cry of pain mixed with pleasure. Meanwhile, another eager demon sent his claws down the front of your uniform, leaving it in ribbons. 

“I do apologize for my pets. They always get excited when we have a guest, especially when it’s a pretty little angel.” Hongjoong couldn’t help but admire how vulnerable you were beginning to appear before him, taking great pleasure in the way you didn’t seem to give up, despite clearly being worn down. 

“If I had permission from my Master, they would all be eradicated from my sight,” you threatened, forcefully ripping yourself free from the demons, a few of your feathers floating away into the dark water. 

“You’re so frightening, little one. I almost let out a scream of terror,” he said flatly, rolling his eyes at you. Hongjoong tapped his sharpened nails against his knee, holding his other hand down in your direction, a demonic sigil etched into the palm of his hand. “Come on up here and deliver the message before I fall asleep out of boredom.” 

Grumbling, you began pulling yourself out of the heavy water, grabbing onto the sharper edges of the rocky wall and slowly bringing yourself up to where he sat, your drenched wings threatening to send you back down into the clutches of the creatures that were whispering and snickering to each other below. 

Once you stood before the Demon Lord, your chest heaving from how much energy you had to exert just to get to that point, you pulled the scroll from your bag and tossed it into his lap. 

“Hope you weren’t too fond of your clothes,” Hongjoong mused, untying the scroll and scanning through it, while motioning to your dress with his free hand, just in time for it to begin peeling away from your dripping body and pooling around your feet. 

Immediately filled with a sense of guilt and shame, you fell to your knees, hunching forward and covering your body to the best of your ability. “This only happened because your lecherous pets wouldn’t leave me be,” you hissed, glaring up at the Demon Lord that now stood above you, the mere sight of his cock hanging in between his legs making you feel faint. “Don’t you know that humiliating an angel is a capital offense? You could be–”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Hongjoong crouched down, running his fingers through your damp, tangled hair, his lips curling into a pompous smirk. “I can’t be punished for doing that to someone who’s no longer welcome inside the Kingdom of Heaven. You should really read these messages before you deliver them.” 

The intense pressure you had been feeling for the past couple hours bubbled up to the surface, showing up as an unbridled rage that you didn’t even realize you were capable of expressing. “You dirty, filth-ridden pest! You think you can open your wicked mouth and spout some nonsense such as–”

Hongjoong grabbed you by the throat before you could finish, standing up and lifting you up in the process with one hand, his fingers squeezing around your delicate neck, using the other hand to show you what your Master had written on the scroll. 

“No…” you mumbled, staring down at the scroll, almost unable to accept your fate. The message was clear: Lord Seonghwa wanted you to stay in the fourth circle where you supposedly belonged, as he was afraid of your inevitable betrayal. 

How could he have known about your wishes when you never made them known to him? To anyone? You were so careful, so precise with your actions, so willing to do everything your Master asked of you, no matter how difficult. And this was the thanks you get? Banished to hell without a single goodbye? 

“It’s not quite over yet, angel.” His blood red eyes bored into your half-closed ones, looking past them and gazing straight into your soul. “I can help you get your revenge. I may not like angels, but I loathe pretentious, high-ranking ones like Lord Seonghwa.” Hongjoong pulled you in closer, his hot breath hitting the bottom of your chin, a bit of drool escaping his plush lips. “Seduce him and take him down with you. That would give you immense pleasure, wouldn’t it? All you need to do is lend me your body.”

“You…you’re…a liar…” you choked out, grasping at his hand, your dripping wings beginning to tremble behind you. “Why…would you do that…for me?” 

“It’s not for you,” he sneered, baring his sharpened canines, slowly lowering you back down to the ground, his fingers still clutching your neck. “I’m a lot of things, angel. Greedy, insatiable, consumed with desire, but…a liar is not one of them. I simply want to cause as much destruction as I can.”

Ignoring the angelic voices inside your head telling you to resist, you did the opposite, instead giving Hongjoong what he wanted. And what you wanted as well.  “Very well…Lend me your power. I want as much as you can give me. My Master won’t go down easy.” 

“So greedy.” Giving you a proud smile, the Demon Lord released your neck, the sigil on his hand now imprinted on your skin, though you couldn’t see it yourself. “I’ll give you everything you need, angel. But first, you must get on your hands and knees, and spread yourself open for me.”

Despite your instinct to spit in Hongjoong’s face and curse him, your profound need for power and revenge far outweighed your desire to piss him off. You did as he said, slowly lowering yourself to the ground and bending over, resting your hands down on the ground and spreading your knees apart, biting into your lip, knowing your angelic ancestors were rolling in their celestial graves. “Be quick, demon.” 

Hongjoong got down onto his knees behind you, his cock standing at full attention from the sight of a haughty angel offering herself to him. “I’m the one who has what you desire, angel, so I will go at whatever pace that pleases me the most.” 

“Then get on with it.” You rolled your eyes, knowing he couldn’t see you, about to say something snarky when the demon ran his heated hands up and down the curves of your waist, only stopping when he held them just above your ass. 

With his hands cemented around your waist, Hongjoong slowly pushed himself into you, inch by inch until his hips were flush with yours, groaning so incredibly loud that his voice echoed throughout the large cavern. “Fuck, there’s nothing better than filling up an angelic virgin cunt like yours…”

“I’m…not…a virgin…” you struggled to inform the demon, gritting your teeth from how incredibly full you felt inside, your inner walls barely able to take his girth and size. 

“Oh?” Hongjoong squeezed the supple flesh of your hips and ass, the pact on his hands leaving a pleasant burn wherever he touched you. “So angels suck and fuck each other too, eh? This is news to me.” 

“You make it sound disgusting, demon. We conduct rituals that are ordained by God herself,” you huffed, glaring back at him with a fire in your eyes. “It’s a holy union used to connect our souls, to link our hearts.”

Hongjoong’s thrusts were quick, sloppy, but he made sure to fill you up completely every time he entered you, his cock heavy and almost hot inside your cunt, making you feel like you could melt. “So what are you doing now with me? Are we linking our souls, angel?” He snorted, sinking his fingers into your ass. “Because I think I’m just fucking you for the fun of it. And I think you like it, judging from that drool that’s falling from your pretty lips.” 

You turned away from him, instead facing a few demons that had gathered around you, not having enough energy to care that they were pleasuring themselves to the sight of an angel taking the cock of a demon. “I’m not…drooling…” you exhaled out, your body completely relaxing into Hongjoong’s, just letting him use you to his black heart’s content.

Hongjoong let out a deep chuckle, hunching over slightly and speeding up his movements, the sound of your skin slapping together and your combined moans pleasing him and the demons around you both. “Liar. You’re not much of an angel, are you? All you’ve done is sin nonstop since you’ve visited my residence. Maybe you do belong down here with me.” 

You grasped at the rough terrain below you, knowing it was going to scrape up your knees from how hard Hongjoong was pounding into you. “I’m-uuunh-doing this to bring-aaah-Lord Park down with me, demon. Don’t you forget..!” 

“Is that so? You’re not also doing this for pleasure?” He ran a single finger along the edge of one of your wings, hearing you let out a small gasp. 

“N-no, I don’t believe in losing yourself to earthly pleasures,” you lied straight through your teeth, gasping again once you felt the displeasure of suddenly being empty, your cunt clenching around nothing. 

“Well, I do.” Hongjoong simply chuckled, spreading your ass open with his talons and sending a few wads of spit into your other hole, gaining the approval of the demons that surrounded you. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” you called out from below, turning your head back to look at him with disgust. 

“I’m simply having you in every way an angel deserves to be had…desecrating you in the way you deserve,” Hongjoong sighed out, reaching down to grab your wrists and hold them behind you, leaving you in a position that left you no choice but to take the Demon Lord’s pulsing cock inside your ass. 

“Oh my god, you foul beast. No one’s ever-nnngh-done such a thing to me,” you panted heavily, being filled up somewhere other than your sacred center, in a place that wasn’t supposed to elicit any pleasure whatsoever. The feeling of your ass being filled up to the very brim sent waves of pure arousal through your holy form, making you wonder if you’ve always been tainted if you were enjoying such a filthy thing. You gazed hazily at the demons around you past your wet strands of hair, their noises of animalistic enthusiasm only growing louder as Hongjoong began to pound into your ass harder than before, his cock slipping in and out with ease, your body shuddering underneath his. 

“Look at you, taking my demon cock in your tight virgin ass like this,” Hongjoong mused, mostly to himself, letting go of your wrists to grab back onto your wings, making you cry out in a bout of sudden pleasure. “Mmm, my sweet angel, if you admit it feels good to be fucked raw, to be taken like this in front of a demonic audience, to be owned by a Demon Lord, I’ll make you cum harder than you ever have during any of your silly little angelic rituals.” 

What have you got to lose? Your pride? Your innocence? Your holiness? Sure, those things were important to you, but it was a little too late to salvage them. You wanted revenge and you were willing to do anything for it. Even if that meant getting on your hands and knees, surrounded by filthy creatures, and taking demon cock in the fourth circle of hell.

“It feels…so good…it’s unholy, so filthy…and I…I love it…” you panted out in between hoarse moans, a few beads of sweat cascading down your spine to the small of your arched back, coming to realize that you had begun to fuck yourself back onto Hongjoong’s cock, desperate for your release. 

Hongjoong found great satisfaction in your submission, eagerly placing his hands on the bend of your wings, slowly running them down the thickest part of it to the thinnest, repeating this action when he heard how whiny you began to sound. “Mm, you’re so sensitive…” 

“Pull them, please…” you practically begged, digging your fingers into the ground, almost smacking Hongjoong in the face with your wings when they spread out.

The demon gripped the thicker section of your wings and tugged them in an outwards motion, still drilling himself into you at the same time, panting too heavily to let out a proper laugh of satisfaction. “Let’s see, is the pretty angel going to cum from having her wings tugged on or because of the fat demon cock that’s stuffed inside her angelic little cunt?”

“Haaaah…both…” You were practically losing your sanity at this point, so caught up in the inescapable heaviness and lust in the air that you couldn’t bring yourself to stop driving yourself back onto his stiff cock. “Give me more…I’m so close…!” 

“As you wish.” Hongjoong grabbed onto both of your wings at the base near your shoulder blades, holding them like handlebars, suddenly pulling out from your ass and thrusting back into your cunt, so deep and so hard that your arousal began squirting onto his cock, the clear liquid dripping down your inner thighs. “Such a slutty little angel, cumming so hard for a filthy demon like me…”

You could barely breathe, huffing and puffing on the ground, covered in sweat, your ass still up in the air, knowing Hongjoong was about to cum too from the way he was groaning and holding you still. “Don’t cum inside me…That’s reserved for higher ups only…” 

“Too late,” he grunted, gripping your wings so hard that he ripped a few feathers out, pumping his cum into you, clearly delighted by your soft cries of pain and pleasure. “It doesn’t really matter anymore now, does it? You’re not welcome back up there, so it’s better that your guts are painted white with my seed.”

You shuddered, already feeling the demon’s load dripping down your slit, making you grit your teeth. “As long as I can stay up there long enough to seduce my Master, I’ll be fine...” You eventually stood up, your thighs trembling, your face flushed beyond measure, still dripping sweat. “So will you give me your power now…?”

Pleased with the sight of his cum dripping from in between your thighs and the sigil glowing on your neck, he stood up and put his hands on your shoulders, the sickening smirk returning to his prince-like face. “You already have it. You had it as soon as I wrapped my hand around your pretty little neck earlier.” 

If you had any more energy to exert, you would’ve made an attempt to shove him over the edge of his throne and into the murky water below, but you simply stood there, your wings raising up slightly out of anger. “So you fucked me and filled me with your filthy seed for nothing?”

Hongjoong shook his head, clicking his forked tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Not for nothing, silly angel. For pleasure.” He raised a hand to caress your jaw, angling your face up to look deep into his eyes, appreciating how your own gold ones lost their color and instead were as dark and empty as his soul. It almost brought a tear to his eye. “And you enjoyed it too, begging for me to grab and pull at your wings the way you did, you naughty thing.” 

You raised your own hand up, grabbing him by the jaw, surprising him and yourself with your sudden bout of strength and dominance. “If you don’t help me desecrate Lord Seonghwa, demon,” you began slowly, through gritted teeth, using your other hand to grasp at Hongjoong’s crown of thorns, not caring that the sharpened edges pricked into your fingers. “I’ll have no problem with taking this crown off and using it on you as a nice cock ring instead. Am I clear?” 

Hongjoong couldn’t have been harder than in that moment, having corrupted and turned an angel into something that was able to frighten even himself, the Demon Lord of the Fourth Circle. Chuckling, he caressed your cheek lovingly, giving you a fond smile complete with sharp, jagged teeth. “Crystal clear.” 

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[thenerdykneazle]

The Scriptorium

Summary: After a harrowing journey through Slytherin's Scriptorium, Ominis helps MC recover from being subjected to the torture curse. After all, he has personal experience dealing with its effects.

Ominis Gaunt x GN!MC

A/N: The fact that I haven't written and posted an Ominis one shot before this is a crime, honestly. Almost as much of a crime as it is that after the trauma that is the scriptorium, both boys just walk away at the end of the mission. So, I fixed it. Also, the first 2.4k of this is a description of the scriptorium mission. Most of the events/dialogue are straight from the game. So, feel free to skip ahead to the middle of this (once they're out of the scriptorium) if you don't need the refresher.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, talks of child abuse, descriptions of being crucio'd, awkward teenagerness in general, MC is naked for part of it but it's not sexual (they just needed a bath, okay?), Sebastian is a walking red flag in this mission but that's not my fault

Word count: 4880

You wound down the dark staircase, descending into Slytherin’s scriptorium. Sebastian entered in after you.

“Dark ominous corridors. My favourite,” he quipped.

“No comment,” Ominis replied coolly as he followed you both.

“Come on, that was a good one,” Sebastian said jovially.

You held back a snicker.

The ancient corridor at the bottom was littered with shattered stone and ended in a sealed door. You found a note left by Noctua Gaunt. She had been here. You repaired the stone into a relief, which Sebastian pointed out showed a person facing a snake.

Ominis shifted anxiously on his feet. He explained the sinister voice he heard telling him to speak to it. He told you how he was a Parselmouth – someone who could speak to snakes. He was certain that speaking to the door would open it, but he was hesitant.

“I’m hoping you’re having second thoughts,” he admitted.

“I see no reason we should stop now,” you replied, unaware of how much you’d come to regret those words.

Ominis breathed out a defeated sigh. “It’s ironic. When I left home, I vowed to leave the Dark Arts behind. And yet, here I am…Stand back.”

You took several steps backward, and Ominis turned to face the door. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered to himself.

You stared in awe as a low hissing came from your friend’s lips. The eyes of two of the snakes carved in the door illuminated with green light, and they slithered up around the frame. The door opened.

“It worked!” you said, stunned. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.”

“Between the two of you, I’m starting to feel left out,” Sebastian whinged light-heartedly.

Ominis’s brows drew together. “Between the two of us?”

“I – never mind,” Sebastian stuttered, realizing his slip.

You weren’t sure yet if you could trust Ominis with your secret. Professor Fig had asked you not to share details with anyone, and you’d already gone against that advice with Sebastian.

You entered into the next room and were met with a locked gate. Next to it was a dial with a statue of a snake atop it. Once you were all inside, the door you’d come through shut behind you. That was the first moment where you thought this might be a mistake. Sebastian pointed out another sealed gate. Ominis suggested inspecting them for clues on how to proceed forward.

You ducked through a half-opened gate and found another note from Noctua. Her description of feeling unwelcome in the scriptorium didn’t inspire confidence in you. Nearby was another dial. You lit the torch beside it and turned one of the large metal discs. A hissing emitted from the statue as it began to rotate. You flicked through the dial, studying the symbols. Both discs had the same pattern.

In a flash, the snake lunged at you, biting your jaw as you stumbled backwards.

“That didn’t sound good,” Ominis said.

“It’s fine,” you asserted, frustration edging into your voice as you wiped the blood from your face with your sleeve. You really should’ve expected something like that.

“Salazar Slytherin didn’t make this easy,” Sebastian observed.

Obviously, you thought as you rolled your eyes. You’d be more than happy to let him take a stab at the dial.

You returned to the other dial. The gate next to it had symbols carved into it, as well. You illuminated your wand and saw that they matched some from the dial. You wished you’d noted that earlier.

“I think matching the dial to the symbols on the gate will open it,” you said.

“It seems Slytherin liked to play games,” Ominis said thoughtfully.

“Must run in the family,” Sebastian quipped.

“Look in a mirror, Sebastian,” Ominis replied irritably.

You quickly aligned the symbols on the dial to the ones sealing the doorway next to it. The serpents on the metal gate shifted, and it raised automatically.

“Matching the symbols did open it,” you said, relieved. You had half expected to be bitten again.

“Was about to do that myself, but you got to it first,” Sebastian said.

You just shot him a waspish look.

He coughed awkwardly. “Nice work,” he said.

You shook your head before continuing forward. In a pit at the end of the corridor, you found a third dial along with another note from Noctua.

I failed the dial, and it struck my face as if it were a real serpent, she started. You scoffed to yourself. Yeah, thanks for the warning, you thought sarcastically as you dabbed at your stinging jaw. She continued on in her letter to decry the way their family forced dark magic on their children.

“Ominis, your aunt wanted to change your family’s traditions,” you said.

“She did,” he confirmed in a wistful voice. “And she was my favourite person in the world for it.”

You felt a pang of sorrow for your friend. He’d lost the only member of his family that had ever been decent to him. You hoped for his sake that this adventure would provide answers as to what happened to her.

You went back to the main room, checking the symbols on the other gate that was still sealed. You went back to the dial that’d bitten you. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you shifted the discs. There were two dials and only one door. You couldn’t be certain which went with it. You were relieved when you heard the metal clanking of the gate opening, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“That sounded promising,” Ominis said.

“Another dial solved,” you replied gleefully as you searched for another door.

“Impressive. Nice work,” Ominis’s silky voice called out almost reverently from the dark.

You chuckled at how similar yet distinct the two Slytherins were, complimenting you with the same words but in entirely different ways.

You entered the newly opened archway. You read yet another note left behind by Noctua, warning of painful challenges but telling of rewards, as well. You relayed the information to your companions.

“Painful – that’s the part I’m wary of,” Ominis said, sounding nervous.

“All I heard was rewards. Keep going,” Sebastian replied with a flippant fort of confidence.

Sure enough, there was another gate at the back of the new room. You wound your way back to the remaining dial and shifted it to match the final gate. Once you aligned the discs, the gate opened with a hiss. You downed a wiggenweld to heal your gashed chin now that you weren’t likely to be bitten again. Hopefully.

“Excellent work,” Sebastian said brightly. “We’re another step closer to the scriptorium.”

Sebastian was just outside the archway when you made it back. “I spotted something ahead,” he said, fear edging into his voice for the first time. “Looks troubling.”

“This whole place is troubling, but, for my aunt’s sake, we cannot stop now,” Ominis replied.

You noted privately that you couldn’t really stop even if you had wanted to. Having only one way forward, the three of you crept into the newly revealed corridor. You had a sinking feeling in your stomach as you stepped inside.

Curiously, the torches lining the space were already lit. More clanking rang out behind you.

“The gate!” Sebastian said in a panicked tone. “I think we’re locked in. Again.”

“Then Salazar Slytherin is not yet finished with us,” Ominis said dismally.

You were inclined to agree. You couldn’t help but think that Noctua’s optimism about the Hogwarts founder was misplaced. You approached the door at the end of the corridor, feeling a cold wash over you like walking through a ghost.

Your heart dropped as you spotted the bones lying in front of the door, right next to the word ‘crucio’ in glowing letters. On the other side of the skeleton, you found another note. With shaking hands, you reread how to proceed. You looked again at the remains of Ominis’s aunt. You felt like you were about to be sick.

“Ominis. A skeleton…And Noctua’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here – blocked by an Unforgivable Curse,” you said, unable to bring yourself to put it more directly.

Ominis looked shattered. “This…is where she died,” he said in disbelief. He began pacing in anger. “This is where we’ll die. I shouldn’t have listened to either of you.”

His words struck harder than you would’ve expected.

“Ominis, I’m truly sorry about your aunt,” Sebastian said. “But, I know what to do. It’s going to be difficult.”

You raised an eyebrow at the brunet. You discussed the matter with him. He voiced aloud what you already knew. The only way out was casting the cruciatus curse. Something only one of you had done before. Sebastian implored you to talk to Ominis.

You had already convinced him to go into this despicable place. You couldn’t ask him to cast an unforgivable, too. Sebastian steeled himself to confront him.

“Ominis, I know this is the last thing you want to do–” Sebastian started.

“Yes! It is! I thought you knew me better!” Ominis spat back.

“But this is different,” Sebastian insisted. “Whoever you cast it upon will have agreed to it first. It wouldn’t be an innocent ‘victim.’ We have to open the door.”

“The spell won’t work unless you mean it,” Ominis said. “That’s true of all unforgivables. If it must be done, then one of you must cast it.”

“What do we do now?” you asked Sebastian. “Ominis is not going to cast the cruciatus curse again.”

“Ridiculous!” Sebastian groused. “As if dying in here is a better option than casting a damned spell.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s up to us. I can teach you crucio, or I can cast it on you.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait – you didn’t say you knew how to cast crucio,” you said.

Sebastian pursed his lips. “Because I’m not sure I do,” he replied. “Ominis knows that, yet he’s left us no choice. I don’t yearn to follow in Noctua Gaunt’s footsteps.” He glanced down at the remains. “I think I can cast it if I have to.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of casting the curse. The hatred required. “I don’t want to learn the curse, but I can handle the pain,” you said more confidently than you felt. “It’s fine. Cast it on me.”

“I shan’t forget this,” Sebastian vowed. He swallowed thickly. “Ready?”

You nodded. “I’m ready,” you said, though your trembling voice betrayed how untrue that was. How could you be ready for such a thing?

Sebastian raised his wand. “Crucio!” he said quickly, before he could lose his nerve.

A red bolt erupted from his wand and struck you. You crumpled to the floor as blinding pain flooded through your whole body. You cried out. It was like molten shrapnel had exploded out from within you, shredding your muscles, tearing apart your organs, and splintering your bones.

“Are you all right?” Sebastian asked, his voice was scared and distant.

You could barely make sense of the words as your senses were overtaken. The red jet arced from you to the door, and it melted away. Jolts of pain still crackled through you as you pushed yourself onto your feet. You struggled to pull air into your lungs.

“A-are you all right?” Ominis asked, clearly shaken.

“That pain,” you groaned. You looked at Ominis’s horrified expression and felt guilt stab into you at the trauma he must be relieving. You couldn’t imagine going through that so young. “It was excruciating, but I’ll survive. Let’s keep moving.”

You just wanted out of there.

Sebastian was enraptured as he entered the room – as if it were sodding Honeydukes and not the lair of a dark wizard. Ominis edged cautiously inside, as well. For once, the door didn’t slam behind you.

You found an old tome and informed Sebastian and Ominis.

“You found something?” Sebastian asked excitedly.

“You two go ahead – let me know what’s in it,” Ominis said, voice still quavering. “I’ll wander around a bit.”

You were about to check on him, but Sebastian appeared at your side. “May I have a look?” he asked, gesturing to the book in your grasp. You handed it over.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“Looks like a spellbook of some kind,” Sebastian replied eagerly. “This is incredible! A Hogwarts founder’s possession – what an honour.” He shook his head. “Still can’t believe Ominis never told me about his aunt and what she found.”

You could. In fact, you wished he’d never brought it up – and that you’d never pushed him on it. “What will you do with Slytherin’s spellbook?” you asked, aiming for a casual tone. Really, you were nervous about his intentions.

Sebastian gave you a playful grin. “What I do with every book – read it! Having professors as parents ingrained that habit early on,” he said lightly. “But I can do that later. For now, I say we explore this room. It’s breathtaking.”

You didn’t feel the same eagerness Sebastian showed – perhaps because he wasn’t the one who had just been tortured. Still, it was a bit shocking to see him so chipper after casting an unforgivable on you mere minutes ago.

“I’ve been getting an uneasy feeling about this place,” Ominis called anxiously up to you both. “We shouldn’t linger here. Let’s find a way out, please.”

Sebastian chuckled. “I don’t want to leave, but I owe you – both of you,” he said. “Without both of you, we’d never have made it this far.”

“We were lucky – we could have died!” Ominis said seriously. “We must swear never to do this again.”

You saw Sebastian roll his eyes. You picked up a note lying on the desk as you tried to shove down your irritation with the boy.

“I see a way out!” Sebastian announced.

“Best news I’ve heard all day,” Ominis replied, breathing a sigh of relief as he climbed the stairs.

You all exited through the hidden doorway.

“Ominis, about your aunt–” Sebastian started as he emerged from the wall back into the dungeon corridor.

“Please, Sebastian,” Ominis cut him off. “I meant what I said before. We swear right now never to engage in anything to do with dark magic again!”

“Understood,” Sebastian replied immediately, much to your surprise. “I’m truly sorry about your aunt, Ominis.”

“I suppose, after all this, I am grateful to know what happened to her,” he said quietly. He turned to you. “Thank you.”

You didn’t know what to say. Sebastian hurried off, probably to go delve into the book. Ominis leaned against the wall, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he tried to process the night’s events.

You chewed your lip. “Ominis, I’m so sorry I dragged you down there. I hadn’t imagined we’d end up trapped like that,” you said sincerely.

He pushed off the wall, stepping toward you. “Salazar Slytherin did,” he replied darkly. “He’s to blame for many unimaginable things.”

You felt a new wave of fear at Sebastian having his spellbook.

“I’m just glad we made it out of there,” he continued. “How are you doing? The cruciatus curse is pure torture – I would know.”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Sebastian told me a little of what happened when you were young,” you said. “Sounds as if you had no choice.”

Ominis sighed. “Should’ve known he would’ve told you,” he muttered. “And one always has a choice. I’m as guilty as the worst of my family. Like I said, unforgivable curses won’t work unless you really mean them. I had to want to cause pain, and for that I shall never forgive myself. I will regret casting it forever.”

You flinched as you thought of the pain that had surged through you less than half an hour ago. Sebastian had wanted you to feel it. You couldn’t imagine feeling that way toward him or Ominis, especially now that you knew what it was like.

Warm fingers slipped into your hand, and you looked up to see Ominis’s brow furrowed in concern. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should’ve insisted we found another way out. Really, I shouldn’t have told Sebastian about the scriptorium in the first place. I am glad to know what happened to my aunt, but…not at your expense.”

You swallow thickly as you stared up at his kind face. “I’m all right, really,” you said.

He arched a brow at you. “Don’t lie to me,” he said firmly. “I can feel your hand shaking.”

You realized he was right. Your muscles were twitching with aftershocks from the curse. You suspected they had been since Sebastian’s curse released. You were just so out of sorts that you hadn’t noticed. “Oh,” you said dimly.

Ominis laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s get you some tea and a blanket. You must be freezing,” he said.

You were freezing, you realized. Ominis led you into the Slytherin common room. You just followed him numbly. It was like your body had reacted to the pain by shutting off your senses. Your mind had been overwhelmed. You felt like you were moving through fog now.

Before you knew it, you had a hot cup of tea in your hands and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Ominis rubbed slow circles on your back. His touch grounded you, keeping you from slipping into the recesses of your mind.

“Is this how you felt after?” you asked, turning your glazed eyes toward Ominis.

He stiffened, his hand freezing in place, as his features contorted in a grimace. You could see his throat bob as he swallowed.

“Sorry,” you said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Ominis shook his head. “I expect so,” he said thoughtfully, answering your question. “I would have a tremor and feel a numbing cold. One of our elves tended to me after the first time. My mother locked me in my room, and he brought me tea and tucked me into bed with extra blankets even though she’d instructed them to leave me alone. He…He also knew how it felt.” His jaw tensed. “My family distributes their cruelty quite generously.” He spat out the last sentence like venom.

You felt tears prick your eyes. “I’m sorry you both went through that,” you said.

He just nodded.

“The numbness wears off after a while,” he said as he resumed the languid circles on back. “Then it’s like…your senses are frayed. Everything is just…too much. Noise. Scents. Everywhere is too hot or too cold. Even clothes are…Well, you get the idea.”

His cheeks were coloured pink.

“How long until that starts?” you asked. It sounded dreadful.

“Maybe an hour from now?” he said. He cleared his throat. “I found that a warm bath in a quiet room helps. Not hot but body temperature. It’s almost like floating in nothing. I expect you’d want the room dark, as well, but I really wouldn’t know.”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t help but laugh, as well. You sipped your tea, and you felt yourself relax slightly as the warm liquid slid down your throat. A shiver ran through you, and you tucked into Ominis’s side, resting your head on his shoulder.

He was caught by surprise, but he quickly wrapped his arm around you, holding you tightly to himself. He even rested his head on top of yours.

You stayed like that for a long time. Ominis traced his wand down a schoolbook with the hand not holding you. He checked in every once in a while to make sure you hadn’t run out of tea, casting a charm to refill your cup when needed. Slowly, your tremor subsided and your body warmed. The cold nothingness that had enveloped you was eventually replaced by a sort of static. It was barely noticeable at first, but it grew more and more grating. You felt stifled between the fire, blanket, and Ominis’s warm body next to you. You had to set your tea down because it was scalding. Your uniform scratched like sandpaper over every inch of your skin. The crackling of the flames and students speaking in low voices grew louder until the noises pounded in your ears. The dim common room seemed blindingly bright. Even the usually calming scent of Ominis’s cologne was an attack on your senses.

You groaned as you curled into yourself. Ominis scooted away from you, and you felt a pang of guilt at the relief it gave you.

“Let’s get you that bath,” Ominis said quietly as he tucked his book into his bag.

He grabbed your sleeve and tugged you to the lavatory. You cast a charm to block the windows. Only the faintest light filtered through. You sagged against one of the sinks, holding your frazzled head in your hands. Ominis filled a tub with a water-making charm, knowing the rush from the taps would be deafening. He heated the water with another spell, dipping his hand it to ensure it was the right temperature. He even set out a towel for you.

“All set,” he said gently. “I’ll relock the door on my way out so no one disturbs you.”

“Could you…stay?” you asked sheepishly.

You could just make out Ominis’s eyes as they widened. “Oh,” he squeaked. “Erm, yes, I suppose so. Are you sure you want me to?”

“I’d rather not be alone,” you admitted, wincing at your own voice as it seemed to boom out from you. “And, well, it’s not like you can see anything…right?”

He chuckled softly. “You’re correct,” he whispered.

He moved to a window seat on the far wall, and you slipped out of your robes. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, your cheeks flushed as you stood naked in a room with Ominis in it. The cold air was like ice on your skin. You quickly climbed into the bath. It was like applying a balm to a sunburn. You really did feel wrapped in nothing as you were surrounded by water exactly the same temperature as you. You closed your eyes, shutting out the last bit of light.

You felt the tension that had been mounting melt out of your body. The only sensations aside from the cool air on your face were the sound of your own breathing and occasional turn of a page as Ominis read. You couldn’t even hear his breaths from where he sat.

With time, your breathing stopped seeming so loud and you stopped noticing the temperature of the room as much. The water in your tub was exactly as warm as it’d been when you slipped inside. You realized Ominis must’ve charmed it to stay that way. He was quite a talented wizard.

You sat up a bit in the tub, leaning your head back on the edge of it, but you kept your eyes closed. You weren’t ready to take in visual stimuli again just yet. “Ominis?” you asked, pleased when the word didn’t ring in your ears.

“Yes, MC?” he replied quietly.

“Thank you. For helping me. It…it would’ve been awful to go through this alone,” you said.

There was a pause before he answered. “I’m sorry you have to go through it at all.”

You opened your eyes to look at him. “It’s not your fault,” you said. You turned, hooking your elbow over the side of the tub as you faced him. “I’m the one who convinced you to go down there.”

“Yes, but I should’ve known better,” he said sadly. “I just…I was so consumed by the need to know what happened to my aunt. I went against my better judgment. It won’t happen again.”

“Same here. I have no interest in investigating anything to do with Slytherin again,” you replied. “I hope Sebastian meant it when he said he’s done.”

“He’s never lied to me before,” Ominis said confidently. “But…if he does mention anything to you, tell me, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. To be honest, you felt like you could tell Ominis anything.

“Good,” Ominis said with a small smile, but it was quickly replaced with a look of concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” you said truthfully. “Is there another phase after this?”

Ominis pressed his mouth into a thin line. Even when upset, his features were as handsome as ever. It really wasn’t fair. “No, but this one tends to linger. You’ll feel on edge for a few days. Maybe a week, even. It tends to last longer the more times you’ve been cursed, so hopefully it’s just a few days for you,” he said, forcing a hopeful smile onto his lips.

You blinked rapidly as a thought struck you. “Did your family curse you multiple times?” you asked, aghast.

He turned his face back toward his book as he schooled his features. “Yes,” he said in a barely audible voice.

“Oh, Ominis, that’s awful!” you said. You wished you could give him a hug, but as you were naked and sopping wet, it wasn’t exactly an opportune time.

He gave a mirthless laugh. “That’s the Gaunts for you. We specialize in ‘awful.’”

“Not all of you,” you argued. “Not your aunt. Not you.”

“Recent evidence would suggest otherwise,” he said. He hung his head. “Not to mention my past mistakes.”

“But that’s just it. It was a mistake. It doesn’t define you, Ominis,” you insisted. “Do you think the rest of your family would’ve cared enough to help me?”

He scoffed. “Certainly not.”

You just waited, letting him consider the facts for himself.

He sighed as he turned back toward you. “I suppose you have a point.”

You smiled. “I know I do.”

Ominis chuckled, and it was a beautiful sound – if a bit loud at the moment.

You decided you’d soaked long enough and got out of the bath. You cringed as you patted yourself dry. The towel wasn’t quite sandpaper like your clothes had been before, but your skin still felt raw. “How long until clothes feel normal again?” you asked, hoping the answer was soon.

“It all progresses together, so it’ll take a few days,” Ominis said with an apologetic grimace.

You let out a groan. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

He held out his hand. “Here. Give me your clothes.”

You wrapped the towel around yourself before scooping up your uniform and padding over to him. You set the outfit in his open hand.

He cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said. Standing so close now, you could see the blush spread over his cheeks.

Your face flushed, too, when you realized you could’ve just levitated the clothes over. You cringed again, but at yourself this time.

Ominis waved his wand as he uttered an unfamiliar incantation. He handed your outfit back to you. It was silky smooth against your skin. It took what was left of your good sense not to drop your scratchy towel and change immediately. You shuffled off to the other side of the room to get dressed.

“That’s so much better!” you gushed once you’d donned the silk ensembled. “Thank you, Ominis.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I’m happy to help you with anything. I mean, anytime! I’m happy to help anytime.”

As you walked back over to his window seat, you could tell he was still blushing. You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll help you with anything, too,” you replied.

“Yeah?” he asked with a hopeful expression.

You chewed your lip, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you looked down at him. You raised a hand to cup his cheek, and his chin tilted up slightly as his eyes drifted shut. You leaned down, brushing your lips softly against his. In your current state, his lips felt a bit rough but pleasantly warm on yours. Nevertheless, the tender kiss sent a jolt of excitement through you. “Yeah,” you replied.

His tongue flicked out over his lips, and he smirked up at you.

The door rattled as someone tried to enter the locked lavatory. The sudden noise made you jump back.

“Ugh! This is the second time this week!” a muffled but clearly frustrated voice grumbled from the other side.

“Come one, let’s use the one upstairs,” another, much more defeated, voice replied.

“We should probably get moving,” you said, unable to stop the grin that graced your lips.

Ominis chuckled. “Yes, I suppose we should,” he agreed.

You both made your way toward the door. Ominis was much more graceful in the dim lighting than you were, and you almost stumbled right into one of the empty tubs. Fortunately, Ominis either didn’t notice or politely pretended not to. He turned to you right in front of the door, his fingers resting on the handle. He shifted nervously between his feet.

“Once you’re feeling like yourself again, would you like to get dinner with me at the Three Broomsticks?” he asked with an endearingly anxious expression.

You beamed at him. “I’d like that very much.”

He grinned as he pulled the door open for you. “It’s a date, then.”

Of all the things you’d thought you might find in Slytherin’s Scriptorium, a budding romance hadn’t been one of them. Not that you were complaining. Not one bit.

#ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x gn!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanfic #ominis gaunt fanfiction #scriptorium

[tripleyeeet]

WEAVED TOGETHER (SAY IT'S FOREVER)

SUMMARY: After faking your death years ago, Astarion finally finds you in Waterdeep.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,128

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, fingering, orgasm denial, sex used as a manipulation tactic, biting, blood sucking, descriptions of past/current abuse, Ascendent Astarion (feel like I need to tag this just in case), a whole lot of angst.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic gave me so much grief. I really hope my labour translates into something good because man, if it doesn't I might fucking cry. :') Also, fic title is inspired this bop!

MASTERLIST

-

You’ve never been particularly keen on parties. Favouring quite possibly anything above the stuffy insides of a ballroom packed with people, it’s a miracle that you haven’t already left Gale’s side for some air. To take even the shortest of moments to allow yourself some alone time. 

Feeling the fabric of your dress uncomfortably stick to your skin, you can’t help but squirm at the thought of having to stay any later. Considering you’ve been here for a good few hours already, you’re tempted to ask Gale if maybe now’s the time to part ways.

At this point you’ve been well and truly shown off to the entire party, gawked at by countless of his old academic friends, so surely he wouldn’t mind if you up and left now, right?

Before you can think to ask, he’s already wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a friendly kiss to the cheek. “I really do appreciate you coming,” he tells you, drunkenly swaying as he speaks, letting out a chuckle as you hold him steady. “I would’ve been terribly embarrassed to show up at such a renowned event without a date.” 

“So you’ve mentioned.” You shoot him a smug look, watching him roll his eyes and take a sip of wine, debating whether or not to take the glass from him, knowing just how much he’s had.

“I mean it, you’ve been nothing short of wonderful to me in my time of need, so thank you.”

Despite the urge to play down his thanks, to remind him of all the things he’s done for you as of late, you merely take it, offering him a quick you’re welcome in return, knowing just how persistent a drunken Gale can get. How the man hardly pauses to breathe in the midst of a conversation —his endless string of words seeming to lose you almost instantly every time. 

Even now, as he begins to go on some long-winded speech about the importance of your friendship, you’re already miles away, longing to drift towards the balcony that rests just across the room, taunting you with its open air and lack of people. 

“Anyways, would you care for another drink? I’m in need of one myself thanks to the hole at the bottom of my glass.” Pulling you back in, Gale lets out a joyous laugh, throwing his head back while you merely shake your head.

“I’m uh, no I’m fine Gale. You go ahead and get that drink. I think I’m going to head outside and get some air.” 

All he does is give you a tight hug before he leaves, stumbling across the marble floors, bumping into various bodies that suddenly get caught up in his inebriated storm, allowing you a moment to yourself. 

You let out a sigh of relief then, turning your attention to your desired spot, gathering up the skirt of your dress so that you can race to its opening, breathing in the scent of fresh air once you step past the threshold.  

Somehow once you’re out there, you notice that there isn’t a body in sight. No couples having late-night trysts in the corner or other lonesome individuals stood painfully reflecting on their night. It’s just you by yourself, walking slowly towards the railing, gripping it tight as you allow your mind to settle. To shut down for just a moment after being on for so long.

It feels like forever since you’ve felt this calm. After years of endless journeys —of fighting and running and, as of late, hiding away— you feel that old sense of ease wash over you. Like the waves of Waterdeep’s coast, they gently lap at your feet, rising and falling with each breath you take, watching from afar the bustling city streets below as they begin to die out for the night. 

It reminds you of home, a bit. Of the nights you used to spend wandering around Baldur’s Gate, your belly full of the cheapest ale and your mind empty of anything other than the prospect of fun. Back then, you were always full of reckless abandon, constantly getting into trouble only to talk your way out of it not long after and unfortunately, you can’t help but begin to miss it all. The life before the war. Before you were taken in the dead of night and forced into a life you never wanted to live. 

Things were simpler then. You didn’t have the scars of clashing swords or the kind of memories that often shook you awake each night, covered in sweat and gasping for air. Devoid of anything truly awful, all you had was the blissful ignorance of a fool. One hellbent on solitude in a world of constant interaction. 

Honestly, if it weren’t for the people you’d met along the way you’d be jealous of that life. The one where you were seemingly untouchable, your mind vacant of regret and resentment and—

Before you can continue, you shake those same feelings from your mind, forcing out a heavy breath as you try to maintain the calm. The ocean of waves of Waterdeep pooling between your toes, knowing it’s the only way you’ll move on. If you focus on the positives —if you refuse to look back even for the slightest of moments you’ll forget all about those other lives you lived. All the chapters you spent haphazardly scribbling down, trying desperately to get to this moment.

It seems impossible sometimes, remembering how much shit you had to go through to get here. Not only did you have to survive countless wars involving mind flayers and cultists, but you also had to die to get it. And not die in the metaphorical sense, either. No, you had to literally die —to off yourself in front of countless people and hope to god the Necromancer that you hired actually turned up. 

It was a whole process. One that you refuse to think about as you let out a scoff and raise your hands to your head, pressing two fingers to either temple to relieve yourself of the sudden ache that hits. 

“Remember what we said about thinking,” you remind yourself then, allowing your eyes to slowly roll back, savouring the alleviated pressure your fingers provide.

Repeating the mantra in your head, you rub your skin and hum aloud, standing for a few more minutes as you listen to the sounds of the bustling party behind you. How the music swells into a crescendo of excitement, various strings and woodwinds all playing in time with one another. 

Alongside it, a calming voice echoes over, rising and falling with each passing note that carries through the air to your ears. At first, it’s soft and silky —comforting in a way that wills you to drop your hands and take a few steps towards the entrance of the building, watching as a beautifully freckled bard strums her lute and smiles at the crowd. 

Suddenly intrigued, you move to your previous spot inside the ballroom, spotting a rather awestruck Gale who’s holding onto two glasses of red, staring with widened eyes.

“She’s rather pretty.” You grin wickedly and bump your hip against his, hearing him grunt as he blinks and glances at you. 

“I’m sorry?”

Taking the glass nearest to you, you then use that same hand to motion to the bard that’s begun to erupt in an upbeat chorus, her voice lowering to a wild growl as she kicks up her feet, dancing around the stage with some of the other musicians. “The bard. Fancy a taste?”

He narrows his eyes at you, a grin of his own peeling across his face as he shakes his head. “I think a conversation would suffice. Least, for starters.” 

Biting your bottom lip, you jokingly wrap your arm around his shoulders and shake, pressing your face against his cheek to make obnoxious kissing sounds that leave him laughing and shoving you off. 

“Unhand me, you harlot!” 

“What? Afraid she’ll see?” 

He opens his mouth, almost offended, staring for a moment as you wiggle your brows and take a sip of the wine. “Excuse you, that was my drink.”

“You got yourself two drinks?” You raise your brow.

He scrunches up his face in response before subtly craning his neck towards the other side of the ballroom. “No, it’s for Astarion.” 

Your stomach sinks at the mention of his name, filling you with the kind of dread you’ve only felt one other time in your life. All at once it sends you into a panic. Your chest aching and your throat tightening. Even your hands, once carefully wrapped around the vessel of liquid seemingly shifts to a close, resulting in shattering glass that pokes and prods your skin before it falls to the ground. 

Crying out in surprise, Gale’s previously mischievous expression quickly fades. Replacing it, an air of worry envelopes the both of you. As he reaches for your arm, allowing his hand to carefully slide down to view your newfound injury, you try to swallow and scan the room, picking apart face after face to no avail, wondering if somehow he’s already found you. If perhaps, instead of where Gale assumes he is he’s instead directly behind you, lingering like the creature of the night he is, waiting to strike. 

A shaky breath escapes you then. Peeling away from Gale’s cautious grasp, you take a minute to blink and look him up and down, noticing the growing fear in his eyes. How his lack of understanding only spurs your head to whip behind you, to find more curious eyes staring back. 

“Are you alright?” 

The question comes from a voice you’ve never heard before. So, instead of entertaining it you merely turn back to Gale, suddenly catching an unfortunate glimpse of pale skin and ivory hair quite a ways back. 

Immediately, it strengthens the dread inside, ripping the breath from your lungs as you press a nervous hand to your neck, realizing that somehow it’s already been years since you’ve last seen him. Months and days and hours all collectively bundled together, only to be completely ruined by this one moment.

As you stand there, staring —watching as he does nothing but the same, you feel your mind yelling for you to run. To discard whatever reservations you may have left to push violently through the crowd because, at this rate, it’s the only option left. Having already tried hiding beneath the freezing hands of Death himself, it’s obvious you’ve exhausted all other options. No matter what you do —what you say— nothing will be deemed feasible enough to grant you the escape you so foolishly desire. You’re too vulnerable now, standing there in your ballroom gown, bleeding from your injured hand, trying not to have a full-blown panic attack as he takes that first stride forward. 

Matching his step, you feel your body waver backwards, everything suddenly swirling across your vision as Gale reaches out to grab your arm, asking if you’re okay.

“I’m aware the breakup wasn’t amicable but maybe if you two just talk?” he suggests, his voice bouncing off your ears like a war drum, reminding you that Sufferance is coming. And that he’s dressed in his fanciest suit to mark the occasion, practically gliding through the room with knitted brows and frowning lips, pushing aside everybody who gets in his way. 

“Gale, we —I need to go.”

Suddenly your palm, still filled with glass pushes against his robes, staining the fabric as your blood begins to drip, reminding you of his hunger —of the way he used to feed. How he took and took, ignoring your starvation for something other than submission. Refusing to acknowledge the withering of your soul each day you spent wrapped around his pretty little fingers.  

As he shoves a woman to the ground, you can feel the emptiness within your stomach start to grow at the memory. The shuddering of your limbs driving Gale to look behind him, noticing the wild look in Astarion’s eyes as the crowd begins to part in fear, watching as he bares his teeth. 

It’s a look that makes you instantly flinch. Closing your eyes, your shoulders rise to touch your ears in anticipation. Waiting for the moment to strike, you all but freeze in place, holding your breath as the steps of his boots draw near, reverberating through the air until they suddenly stop.

In fact, everything stops. The sound of him —the sound of the party. All of it falls onto deaf ears, creating a new fear that has you so terrified you merely stand in place until you eventually hear the clapping sound of a hand on someone’s back, followed by the swirling of your head again, forcing your eyes to jolt open. 

“Oh, hello darling, didn’t see you there.”

Once again trying to breathe, you glance between the two men in confusion, watching as they share a lengthy embrace before Astarion’s pushing himself onto you. Gentler than expected, his arms slowly wrap around your shoulders as he does it, pulling you to his chest in a way that feels both frightening and familiar. A mix of home and hell encased around your nervous frame as he lowers his head to yours. 

In response, you reluctantly raise your hands and place them on his back, applying a bit of pressure at the centre as you mutter out a muddled hi, looking to see that the commotion he so violently caused before seems to have evaporated into thin air. 

“You’re awfully far from home, aren’t you?” His voice is barely above a whisper, ghosting against the shell of your ear as you force out a shaky breath.

“So are you.”

“I wonder why that is.”

You hum in response. Using the short moment of silence that’s granted to stare. To watch the way he looks you up and down, the edges of his lips pulling into a smirk of amusement. 

It’s obvious then that he’s thinking of playing tricks. Of taunting and teasing —using all the usual charming tactics before he decides it’s worth it to raise a little hell. 

Because of this, you merely swallow hard and spare Gale a glance, watching him magic away the bloodstain on his robes before looking back towards the stage. 

“How did you find me?”

Astarion reaches for your chin. Taking hold of it with his thumb and forefinger, he then waits patiently for you to share his gaze, looking your face up and down until he can finally see the fear in your eyes. “Does it really matter?” 

It does, but you know he won’t tell you so you move on to another question. “Why are you here then?” 

Immediately he scoffs, the smirk on his face falling for a split second. “Do you really have to ask?” he says, letting his thumb run across the length of your bottom lip. “Obviously, I’ve come to enjoy a spot of red with old friends.”

“Hm.”

“Among other things, of course.” 

“Like?” 

“Reclaiming my dead consort, for one.”

“And two?” 

He shrugs his shoulders as he taps your chin. “Not sure. Depends on how the night goes.” 

You’re not sure what to say then. Growing increasingly lost to the feeling of his hands and voice —remembering all the moments shared when it was just him and you and the power imbalance of ascension hadn’t yet existed— all you can do is pull him in a bit tighter. 

Knowing that Gale is probably growing more curious by the second, you suddenly feel a sense of protection. An urge to get rid of him so that he’s no longer at risk. 

Well aware of the power Astarion now holds within his grasp, you know it’s hardly worth it to try and get him involved anyway, especially considering how much alcohol he’s consumed. The poor man couldn’t be helpful even if he tried, so instead of asking you merely hold on. Tightening your grip as the other parts of you desperately try to rationalize just how much you’ve missed this. How even after years spent fleeing his hold —years of constant moving and hiding and watching your back for signs of his presence— his touch is still the only thing that makes you feel safe.

Which is a fact that makes you sick to your stomach, discovering that, regardless of being able to name a million reasons why you should be fleeing rather than falling, suddenly you’re able to name just as much for why you’d stay. Why you’d more than willingly follow his footsteps if he asked. 

And not because you fear him, no. Despite having just been found out —despite that growing uncertainty of how you’ll inevitably be taken back— it’s as if your mind resets on impact. As he holds you close, speaking in obvious threats to your safety if you don’t listen, you can feel the defiance in you quickly dwindle. Evaporating into thin air as he leans away to give Gale an overly friendly smack to the shoulder. 

“Gale, darling, you wouldn’t mind giving us a bit of privacy would you? Seems we have much to discuss.” 

The hold he has on you tightens as he speaks, reminding you that such a conversation is anything but optional as Gale almost immediately buggers off, drunkenly mumbling something about drinks and fun before Astarion’s whisking you away. 

Leading you through a crowd of bodies, you quickly find your hand gripping his shoulder absentmindedly. All splayed out, your fingers nervously caress the fabric of his doublet, feeling the texture shift beneath your skin, reminding you that he’s here. That’s he’s present and real and not just some illusion conjured up to scare you into coming back. 

“Your entrance back there was…” 

You’re not sure what to say anymore. Not with the underlying rage you can feel radiating off of him. Given the fact that it’s been so long, you’ve almost forgotten how to please him. To make his mind ease into those old spaces of pity where sometimes he’d grant you reprieve amongst the punishment. 

Knowing this, he looks at you with feigned innocence, taunting you with his still raised lip as though he’s having fun despite slowly inching towards the blowout. “Did you like it? I figured, it’s been so long since I’ve last toyed with that little mind of yours, best to give it a proper show.” 

He wipes his thumb across your forehead and watches you frown; your head suddenly darting back only to be ripped forward when that same hand tightens around your throat.

All at once the action leaves you gasping for air. As his thumb presses down on the centre of your neck, applying just enough pressure to pull from you a nervous wheeze as the two of you stop, he can’t help but lower his face to yours. 

“I’d consider yourself lucky that the temperament I showed back there was merely an illusion,” he tells you, pressing his forehead to yours.

Swallowing to no avail, you feel the lump in your throat become pressurized by the growing frustrations in his hand. Prompting you to panic, another airless sound emits from your lips as your eyes begin to dart around, looking at all the curious eyes that seemingly look away the second you make contact. 

You realize then that nobody cares. Whether it’s due to the intimidating presence he exudes or the potential word of mouth of his ascendance circulating the room, you don’t care, knowing it doesn’t really matter anyway. He’s untouchable regardless. A force so unmovable that all you can do is pray that he’s merciless. 

As he grips your throat amongst a sea of avoidant faces, unwavering in his efforts to patronize your past behaviours, you know then that this marks the end of your freedom. That from this moment on his control over you has been reenacted without discussion. 

“Now, are we going to obey and have a nice evening or are we going to do something we might regret?” 

Looking back at him, all you can do is nod, feeling that alleviation slowly come. Granting you the chance to breathe again, you cough quietly and reach for your throat, rubbing the pain away as you watch his previously aggressive demeanour fall into amusement, once again stringing you along. 

At which point you effectively zone out. Still feeling his hand flush against the small of your back, it’s as if suddenly your mind becomes null, avoiding all thoughts as he leads you through the main entry of the ballroom, turning down a seemingly endless stream of corridors until you find yourself face to face with an ornate door. 

Once there, he peels away from your frame and begins to pick the lock, wickedly grinning at you once that familiar click rings out, reminding you of the old him. Of how he was before the ritual, all doe-eyed and excited to experience the world and all its gifts. 

It makes your lip pull between your teeth nervously, seeing him unbend the length of his back to look at you. To smirk in a way that feels so real and him that you almost forget that he’s changed. That, instead of picking the lock to loot the room and make charming little jokes at your expense, he’s doing it so he can get you alone. So that he can do unspeakable things the old Astarion would never think to do.

“Shall we?” 

His voice rings out like a request even though you know deep down it’s a command, secretly telling you to hurry up. So, doing just that, you brush past him without so much as a glance, taking in the endless wall of books that greets you as you enter, opening your mouth in slight awe until the door closes behind you. 

Turning back, you’re then given all but a second before he’s on you. Grabbing you with such violent desperation, a hand snakes around your waist, claiming you like he used to do when you were still devoted to being his. When this idea of free will was nothing more than a passing thought that barely grazed the surface.

Back when he was still yours. 

Immediately, the familiarity of it wreaks havoc on your chest. Your heart, once filled with longing and fear now radiates nothing but need. Demanding that old sensation of flesh brushing against flesh as his other hand takes hold of the base of your neck.

The second you feel it, all thoughts are lost. Every previous reservation you once had melting into nothing against the hot feeling of your mouth pushing against his, prying open both lips to taste his tongue. To remind yourself of what it felt like to be wanted in the simplest sense. 

Deepening the kiss, he moans and somehow pulls you closer, forcing your chests together as he maneuvers you backwards, stumbling over a raised edge of a rug before practically tossing you onto the floor. 

“Years,” he groans then, pulling away to stare down at you with knitted brows and swollen lips, distracting you with that pretty face as he begins to rip the bodice of your dress. “I’ve spent years without this flesh —without this blood.” 

His fingers pry at the fabric, peeling back the only layer you have to hide behind until you’re left exposed from the waist up, anxiously breathing at the sight of his hunger. 

A sight that leaves you helpless beneath his grasp as he quickly leans forward, palming one breast while holding your face with the other. Beneath him, all you’re able to do is take each touch as it comes, savouring the uncharacteristic softness as his thumb brushes against your nipple, teasing it with gentle swipes as he goes in for another kiss.

Similar to his hands, there’s a strange feeling that comes along with it. As he nibbles your bottom lip, choosing to give you control, you know that something’s off. That instead of displaying the softest version of him you’ve felt in years, he should be punishing you with reckless brutality. Taking what’s rightfully his without so much as a thought.

Because of this, you reluctantly pull away, gasping for air as he hovers above you, still stroking your chest and face. 

“Why are you doing this?”

Normally, such a question would result in some sort of punishment. A night of solitary confinement. Perhaps the silent treatment for up to a week. 

Back before you realized just how fucked up everything had gotten he used to isolate you for things as simple as this. Forcing everyone around to ignore your every waking move, he found that loneliness was the key to your obedience. The only way to control whatever reckless thoughts entered your mind. 

So, it’s surprising when he answers —when he lowers his mouth to give your lips one final kiss before flashing that smirk. “What do you mean?” 

You raise your brow and move to sit up, leaning against your elbows as your face contorts in confusion. “Why are you acting like him?”

“You mean me?” 

You open your mouth to respond —to fight against his words, knowing now more than ever that you should. Considering the door’s already open for conversation, you might as well get all your thoughts out while you’re able. Because after this it’s apparent, you’ll be stuck all over again, wasting away at the foot of a God who’s anything but forgiving. 

“You aren’t punishing me.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Why?”

His hand explores your face, swiping across skin that hasn’t felt a single touch since your departure. “There’s always time for punishment —for penance,” he tells you, tracing your features with featherlight strokes that have you begging for more as you push yourself upward. “Now that I have you again, there’s far more important things I want before I subject you to what you deserve.” 

“Which is?” 

He pauses for a while, continuing his ministrations in a way that has you forgetting why you left in the first place. Why, instead of subjecting yourself to the torment of his hand to feel the grace that often coincides, you decided to give it all up. 

“I haven’t quite decided yet.” 

It’s a simple statement, yet it holds far too much weight against your ears. As he speaks, your heart flutters in your chest nervously, reminding you that this thing between you is nothing more than an imbalance. A tipping scale so unevenly distributed that you’ve lost all hope for rebalance. 

Because of this, you don’t fight him when he inevitably leans forward. Nor when he presses a slightly rougher kiss to your lips, biting down with a newfound vigour that splits your lip in half. Feeling the blood pool out, you hardly react when Astarion’s lips begin to suckle the wound, lapping up whatever spills through as he rips away the rest of your clothes, tossing it all aside.

Suddenly cold, you find your arms rising to hold him all over again. Wanting to feel the fabric of his clothes pressing against your bare skin, you grip him tight and groan, relishing in this moment. Enjoying the familiarity of it as something warm blooms across your aching core, fuelling the need for your hips to slightly buck up, making him laugh. 

Light and airy, the sound filters through your mouth like smoke, taking hold of your lungs in a way that leaves you addicted. Wanting to chase that past feeling, your hands swiftly lower to his waist, your fingers tucking themselves under his clothes to touch the texture of his scar —to feel the old him amongst all the new. 

Realizing this, his movements become suddenly erratic. Forcing himself up with a grin, he then begins to quickly trail down your body, pressing his mouth to every exposed bit within his sightline, making sure to glance up at your heavy eyes and parted lips along the way. 

“Mm, still as desperate as ever, my little consort,” he tuts. 

Between the kisses he places to your freshly bruised flesh, he releases another laugh that lingers in your mind, further reminding you of him. Of the man you fell in love with. Of the man who swiftly slips between your thighs with little notice, raising the backs to rest against his shoulders. 

A sound of shock escapes your lips at the new position, craning your neck to watch him latch onto your inner thigh, suckling the plush through such a guttural moan that it forces your jaw to drop.

“Fucking hell,” you mumble then, prompting his lips to curl into a grin before he’s biting your thigh, forcing his teeth through the tender flesh before you can even think to object.

It feels better than you remember. Almost like a hot flash of pleasure before that familiar coldness kicks in, numbing the space that he suckles with haste. As his lips hollow out to drink whatever he can get, you feel his hand slip against your entrance, knuckles grazing the outer folds of your sex just right. 

Bucking your hips again, you feel his movements become one. Each time his tongue licks up, his fingers raise to the top of your cunt, flowing back down in such delicious unison you’re already ready to submit. To surrender yourself to whatever pleasures might await through the pain of your punishment.

So much so that you’re already begging for it. Through gasps that barely hit his ears, your voice whines for more. For more pressure or movement or frankly, whatever the hell he’s willing to give despite how undeserving you are.

“Please, Astarion.”

The moment he hears that little please he’s pulling away, grinning at you with teeth and tongue all covered in your blood. 

“I’m sorry, you want me to please you?”

He gently pushes two fingers into your entrance, curling the ends ever so slightly while keeping them still, watching as you press your lips together, unable to speak.

“To pleasure you?”

Slowly, he angles his head to suck your thigh again, dragging a fresh wave of blood through his hungry lips before shifting towards your cunt and licking a tentative strip directly above his fingers. 

“To taste you, perhaps?”

His voice is low, droning on in that teasing way that has you looking down annoyed, taking in the way he goes back and forth, debating whether or not to relent. To give in to the indulgence, watching you squirm beneath him. Forcing you to stir in your own prolonged pleasure until he all but sits back up, digging his fingers into the holes in your thigh, telling you you’ll get what you deserve once you’ve come back home.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

#weaved together (say it's forever) #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #ascended astarion #summer writes

[virgo-barbie]

bimbo starter kit ✨💖

it can take a while for a bimbo to feel comfortable with cosmetic procedures, or even just to secure the necessary finances to take the next step in her journey! here are a list of things you can start on right away while you figure out the rest.

1. exercise! a bimbo's body is her best weapon. try to aim for a couple times a week at least. if you don't like running, try pilates, yoga, dance, anything. it's just important that you feel connected to your body in some way.

2. spray tans! for me, this really amps up my sex appeal. my skin has a golden hue that a spray tan really brings out. if i don't have time to go get professionally tanned biweekly, i'll use a tanning mousse instead. it gives a similar effect, but the spray tan is a bit more realistic.

3. manicure and pedicure! what is a bimbo without her claws? i personally love having acrylic nails. i don't have them right now because i can't have acrylics when i go in for my breast augmentation, but i almost always do otherwise. i like barbie pink or long white claws. both are very feminine and look great wrapped around the base of a cock or squeezing a beautiful boobie! having your toes done is also important - nobody wants to suck on and lick mangled feet, and you need to be prepared to be worshipped at any point in time.

4.new clothes! i literally threw everything out and started fresh with a wardrobe of basics. 5 pairs of tiny short shorts, about 20 basic tops in pink, white, and black. I am working my way up towards more exciting statement pieces and building up my shoe and purse collection, but this all takes time. In the meantime, you need clothes that look good on your body and show off your best assets. after my breast augmentation, i will be getting a bunch of new clothes from brands like skims, alo, for love & lemons, etc. for my more bimboish pieces, i kind of just shop around, but i think it's important to have a ton of basic pieces so you can create endless outfits. the mini skirts, fur coats and heels can come later - once you have things to wear them with that make you look super stylish and more importantly... show off your body.

5. get your hair done professionally! most bimbos like to be blonde (myself included) and unless you're already blonde to start with, i see absolutely no reason you should do this at home. save up some money and find a hair stylist in your town who specializes in blonde hair. you won't regret it, and there's nothing bimbo about having crusty, fried hair. if you're not certain if blonde is the best route for you (it probably is), ask a stylist! pink also looks adorable on bimbos with a more cutesy y2k style. a good haircut with some face framing layers can also completely change your whole look.

6. whiten your teeth! invest in a whitening foam and tray, or just use strips. i've had a similar effect with both.

7. get good with fake eyelashes! they elevate any makeup look from fresh to sexy. once you've had lip filler, lip gloss and lipstick will also become your new best friend.

8. silly little accessories! may i suggest a pink lollipop or bubblegum? this will help keep the attention on your perfect little mouth all day and will also give you something cute to distract yourself with while you fantasize about being used out in public.

#hyper femininity #bimbo doll #girlcore #bimbo babe #bimboification #coquette #dollette #it girl #coqeutte #girlblogging #bimbolife #bimbo goals #bimboization #bimbo hypnosis #bimbo training #bimbofied #bimbocore #bambi bubbles

[daskolas]

PAC: HOW WILL YOUR REST OF 2023 GO.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Ask yourself questions "how will my rest of 2023 go" and see where your intuition is taking you.

This is a general reading so it may or may not resonate with you

Pile-1 , pile-2, pile-3

PILE - 1

Hii, welcome to your pile. I hope 2023 has been treating you well. Here is your reading:

SEPTEMBER: You're trying to get your life structured this month. You are making a timetable or anything to get organised or even just try to devote time to things like doing workout everyday, spending time with yourself. Some of you could be waiting for someone's text and are not able to sleep because of that. So don't worry about it. Whether you receive that text or not, it will depend on fate. You sometimes have to let things go. Rest of you are overthinking about your future a lot so remember that overthinking won't take you anywhere, put efforts and take care of your health. You could have some issues with someone about how they want different things than you. For, some of you, it is internal (especially for people whose initials are R, T, A, N). Expect something to change and it will be fruitful.

OCTOBER: this month is more about reaping benefits of the seeds you sow. You will be dating someone. That person will be flirtatious and dramatic. Plan your steps with an eye to the long term. Don't make decisions quickly, analyse pros and cons according to the long term. Have some patience because you never know when you will receive something good. Learn to understand when you have to listen to your heart or mind. This will come very handy this month. Do not feel trapped because you will be longer stuck in that situation. Plan what to do next step carefully. Trust your intuition. Especially, do some chakra meditation. This month is about making decisions, thinking and falling for someone.

NOVEMBER: you will be leaving a bad habit behind. That habit which was holding you back and making you feel trapped. It can even be a person. Try to bring fun into things. Do not do them as some chores but make them fun. This month you really need to believe in yourself and have some self love. A lack of self confidence can keep you back from getting what you want. You have to realise that you are powerful and you can take back anything you want. A journey is now complete. You will also get success. I am not getting a lot for this month but learning to love yourself is the main highlight.

DECEMBER: you will have a financial windfall in December. Expect to receive money and some person who will support you. What I am getting is that, carry a notepad with you and write down whatever ideas you are having. You will have to learn how to communicate effectively. If you are getting some good ideas then implement it. Review your past and present and see how far you have come. Do not hold yourself onto certain standards or judge yourself, do whatever you feel like and however you feel like. You can also go to someplace or even purchase a vehicle. You will realise your dreams and will go after them this month. You will also try to come out of your comfort zone and feel more optimistic.

This was your reading pile 1. I hope it resonated.

PILE - 2

Hii, welcome to your pile. I hope 2023 has been treating you well. Here is your reading:

SEPTEMBER: you are not seeing something clearly this month. It seems like you are trying to ignore or take granted all the things you have and wishing to have other things. Many people who chose this pile are trying to manifest something important. If you will be focusing on what you don't have, you will not be able to manifest. Show some gratitude and see how fast things come for you. And also someone needs to hear this " A bright future is manifested through hard work and creativity." You will also feel satisfied from the work you have done. Many of you are afraid to take action even though you have plans and everything. So, take this as a sign and take some action. It will be great for you, if you will be fearless and pursue your dreams.

OCTOBER: you will get a friend with whom you can share your feelings with, without feeling any sort of judgement from them. You can feel a little powerless this month but if you realise how wonderful you are, then you will be easily able to overcome challenges. Leave people who are no longer serving you and align yourself with people who have high spiritual ideals. This month you will need to come out of your box and consider new and creative modes of accomplishing your goals. But you will be looking at the future with hope and optimism so that hope will make you do hard work. You might also question your plans but you will also come to the conclusion that your plan is not wrong but something else is.

NOVEMBER: expect to receive some good news. And you will also be able to be successful in your work. It doesn't matter if you are working or school but this month is great for you. If you are required to make some career decisions, then follow your passion. BE THE BEST AT WHAT YOU DO. you will also be able to stop procrastinating and put efforts in your work. If you have to make decisions, then do not overanalyze it as you will be more confused by this. Reach out to others when you are required to do. Take advice from people. Some of you will feel like they are leaving some things behind so know that you are on the right path.

DECEMBER: I see that you are still carrying things which you should have completed in November itself. But listen to your brain when you have to find some solution to anything. There can also be some unexpected change like you have to move to another state or something but it will be sudden only. You will also be ignoring the information which is presented right in front of you because it will not be exactly what you want to hear. Don't be deterred by challenges. Know that a challenge is something which makes the things worth doing. You will also be able to manifest something and make good progress in some endeavours

This was your reading pile 2. I hope it resonated.

PILE - 3

Hii, welcome to your pile. I hope 2023 has been treating you well. Here is your reading:

SEPTEMBER: you are going to take control of your life. Some of you are going back to school or even deciding to. You are trying to show more gratitude or forgiveness to other people. It's like trying out a new thing where you basically change your life maybe by doing different manifestation challenges or something. You might also do some more self- care like doing skincare, working out, eating healthy etc. This month is going to be great for you as you will be able to come in contact with your inner child.

OCTOBER: you are moving into a new direction. Maybe you are planning to start something new or following something which you always wanted to do. October is going to be great for you to take action as this month is about moving forward. But you could also question yourself, if you should move forward with this. You are planning things for a bright future and hence comparing traditional vs modern methods. You will also receive some good news. If you are doing something creative for free, then expect to earn something from them. This month will bring you lots of happiness but it will also require you to work very hard.

NOVEMBER: the good news which I mentioned above, looks like you are going to have a celebration in November because of it. You also are going to be cutting off toxic people or those people who are no longer matching your energy. This will make you feel alone and constantly overthinking about it. You could also be starting to question your decision, if that's the right thing to do. You might focus on worst-case scenarios. You are also becoming a lot focused on your career or education this month. It looks like you are taking back the control which you needed. You are also recognising all the blessings and being grateful for them. For some people, some person in your family might get married.

DECEMBER: you are going to be in touch with your spiritual side much more. Like you could start meditating for balancing different chakras especially the third eye. You are going to listen to your intuition or even feel more confident in that side. You are also going to give yourself proper rest like hibernating. Some self-reflection will really help you so much this month. You will also be hanging out with your small group of friends or the people you trust most. In October, i said about overthinking. Looks like you are going to let go of all the fear and worry this month.

This was your reading pile 3. I hope it resonated.

#tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #pick a card #pac #prediction

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | series masterlist

Hi, and welcome to Bora Ranch!

At Bora Ranch you will rediscover who you are, reconnect with your sister, and your childhood friend, Park Jimin, that will stir old feelings back. There's a lot of ups and downs, a lot of heartbreak, misunderstandings, what ifs, bad timing, but in the end, you will know what truly makes your heart beat, and where your heart's home is.

It's a story that will take you on a heartbreaking journey to find out what love is and the meaning of 'home', coming home and finding love. There's a lot of angst in it, I'd call it HEALING ANGST. Everything will be good in the end! Just have to go through a lot of heartbreak before the sun truly shines. There's a lot of soulmates vibes/undertones in it, and it's a lovestory at it's core. It's very romancey (Why do I suddenly feel like I wrote a YA but with mature language???).

This story is HEAVLY inspired by McLoed's Daughters (both the world/setting/plot), some plot points follow that story, but most of it doesn't.

“It will take some time To find your heart And come back home You could walk for miles Cross every river And find your not alone ‘Cos I'll be there” - From McLeod’s Daughters theme song

🐴 Summary: You’d never thought you’d step foot back at the ranch– a place you used to call home a long time ago. When you are forced to go back, reconcile with your sister and a certain childhood friend that you had long forgotten, will sparks reunite? 🐴 Pairing: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter)*, jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc *I also want to clarify some things about the tags/pairings! Jungkook x reader only happens once, it is crucial for the sake of the plot, but please don't let that stop you from reading it (I take it you want to read it because of Jimin x reader). Jimin x reader is the main couple! 🐴 Characters: female reader (she’s more like an OC, but isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴 AUs: ranch!au, slice of life!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, cowboy!au, soulmate!au 🐴 Genres: smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst (yes, it’s got everything lol!) 🐴 Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact! 🐴 Word count: 230k (epilogue excluded) 🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴 Warnings/tag: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain sexual themes, smut and a lot of sexual tension and a hell of a lot of angst! Like series is an emotional rollercoaster ride, it will leave you both happy, sad, frustrated, mad, angry and oh so in love. All through the series. You have been warned, lol. 🐴 Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!) 🐴 Fancy reading on AO3? It is cross-posted there! 🐴 Do you want to see the book cover (there's a teaser too)? [it's here] 🐴 Author’s note: this series is heavily inspired by the TV show McLeod’s Daughters. Some plot points will feel familiar, while others won’t (because I don’t follow that story structure to a tee). But If you love that show that I do, I’m 100% sure you’ll love this story too! Also, I don’t expect people to really be interested in this… this is more of a story about coming home, finding home, finding love and such… and I don’t know if you want to read that sort of thing? But I fucking love it! ✨

Chapter #1 - Inheritance | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter one

Chapter #2 - It’s a Long Road | word count: 9.1k | read → chapter two

Chapter #3 - Sometimes | word count: 11.8k | read → chapter three

Chapter #4 - It Comes to This | word count: 7.5k | read → chapter four

Chapter #5 - Our Home, Our Place | word count: 11k | read → chapter five

Chapter #6 - Wild Horses | word count: 11k | read → chapter six

Chapter #7 - We Got it Wrong | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter seven

Chapter #8 - Love You, Hate You | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter eight

Chapter #9 - Take the Rain Away | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter nine

Chapter #10 - The First Touch | word count: 16.4k | read → chapter ten

Chapter #11 - This Perfect Day | word count: 14.4k | read → chapter eleven

Chapter #12 - Broken Dreams | word count: 14.4k | read → chapter twelve

Chapter #13 - Love Letter | word count: 13.4k | read → chapter thirteen

Chapter #14 - I Wish the Past was Different | word count: 10.5k | read → chapter fourteen

Chapter #15 - Did I Tell You? | word count: 13.7k | read → chapter fifteen

Chapter #16 - The Stranger | word count: 14.1k | read → chapter sixteen

Chapter #17 - Love of Your Life | word count: 13.3k | read → chapter seventeen

Chapter #18 - By My Side | word count: 14.7k | read → chapter eighteen

Chapter #19 - Home [END] | word count: 18.2k | read → chapter nineteen

Chapter #20 - My Heart's Home [Epilogue + Q&A] | word count: TBA | read → chapter twenty

Please let me know if you're excited for this??? I'm still writing it, and honestly... I love it! But it's tough to write such a long series without any feedback or knowledge whether it's good or sucks... so.. yeah....

#jimin x reader #jimin fic #jimin smut #jimin imagine #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fic #jimin x you #park jimin imagine #park jimin x you #park jimin x reader #park jimin smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fic #park jimin #jimin fanfiction #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin fanfic #bts jimin fanfic #my heart's home series #bts #jimin scenario #bangtan x you #pjm x you

[adventuringblind]

Heyyyy

Is it possible to have more autistic reader X Oscar like something happens at the race weekend and it's the rest of the grid helping her out as they also try find Oscar. Or anything really.

If not totally fine.

Also LOVE your writing!!!

Grid Panic

Oscar Piastri x Autistic Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort and fluff

Summary: a photographer is taking pictures during a night race and gets in readers face with the flash on. She panics and Oscar is nowhere to be found.

Warnings: cameras and autistic meltdowns

Notes: Okay, so this is MY experience with meltdowns. Please remember that everyone is different and experiences things differently. Also, this is HC format.

Masterlist

Night races are your favorite

The weather is more mild at night

It's easier to hide away from the crowd

The journalists don't spot you as easily

It's perfect

Currently, you're waiting for Oscar to come out of the media pen

Meandering around the paddock with headphones in as you wait

Oscar is protective yes

But not overprotective

He lets you lead the way, and if you get uncomfortable, then he'll step in

He can read your signals like it's clockwork

But he's not here

And a photographer has decided to make you his muse for the moment

He begins snapping shots with the flash on since its dark

You've never been on for bright lights

It's been the cause of many moments spent tucked away under tables and desks

He's saying things to you about smiling for the camera

But your not listening

Desperately trying to shield your face from the onslaught of flashing lights.

You’re lucky that Lewis is walking by

It’s not like you were trying to screech his name

But volume is harder to control when you feel like this

Needless to say it gets his attention

He gets in between you and the photographer

His arm slung around your shoulders protectively

Eventually you register the darkness of the alley between buildings

“Are you alright?”

Everything in you wants to say yes

But the urge to slam yourself into the ground and stay there says otherwise

No words

Just breathe

Physical contact is to much right now

“Can we go to Oscars room?”

You nod yes

Then you’re journeying to the McLaren motor home

You run into Charles on the way

He trails behind you

Mildly panicked because you aren’t speaking

Never a good sign

He waits with you in Oscar’s room

He plays soft piano music to drown out the noises from outside the room

You hide in the corner and curl yourself into a ball

Meanwhile Lewis is running around the paddock

He wishes he hadn’t put his scooter away

He runs into Lando during his search

“Need…Oscar…”

“Why? Am I not good enough for you?”

“Girlfriend is having- a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Ahhhh- what’s it called- a meltdown!”

Lando joins in on the search

At this point it feels like they’ve looked everywhere

Then they see Max

“Max!”

The Dutch does a spin and smiles when he sees them

“Have you seen my teammate?”

“Zak dragged him off somewhere, I think.”

*internal screeching from the two Brits*

“Can’t you show us where they went?”

Max drags the two along

They end up back in front of the McLaren motor home

They head inside with Lando leading them to Oscars room

Charles is watching from outside the door

“Took you long enough.”

They all collectively roll their eyes

The photographer got a warning

The boys (Lewis in particular) fell asleep as soon as they hit their respective beds

Oscar covered you in his jacket and drive you two home

Taking back ways and using the back entrance of the Hotel

He laughs to himself after he manages to get you to fall asleep

It’s a miracle they didn’t send the whole paddock into a panic

You fall asleep knowing your have good friends who can listen to your needs

#x reader #fanficion #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 #racing #f1 fanfic #formula racing #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren racing #lando norris f1 #f1 #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #mclaren f1 #mclaren #op81 imagine #op81 #op81 x reader #fomula one #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #autistic reader #autistic #autism #oscar piastri imagine

[captainlondonman]

HiViz Layby

It had been a long car journey back and Dave decided he needed to stop off for a pee. He had stupidly passed the petrol station but saw in front of him a layby and at least he could pee in the bushes. He came off the road to stop the car and in front of him was a local authority van parked up in front. Dave got out and could see there was a gap in the hedge and a slope in the ground beyond. He got out and without looking at the van he went through the gap and down what looked like quite a well worn path. As he reached a clearing he saw the driver of the van facing him with his cock out and legs apart. He was 180cms high, broadly built with a crew cut  in full high Viz. Obviously the Local Authority gear with green trousers and hi viz bands, a green T shirt tight against his large chest, and a full yellow jacket. At first Dave thought the guy was finishing having a piss and as he looked more closely the bloke had a massive boner.

Dave did not know what to do, but what he did know was the guy had a large cock and his hand firm around the shaft. He was also wearing full HiViz which Dave really got off on and at times would need to wank if he saw a good looking workie. For now all thought of peeing had gone as Dave’s own dick was rapidly growing down his trousers showing a good sized bulge.

The guy barked “Are you interested or not. If not then get the fuck out. If yes stop staring at my dick and get over here and open up yer mouth.’

‘Fuck the pee’ Dave thought as he walked over to the guy letting his hand rub his own bulge up and down.

‘ I could see that prick of yours was interested. I’m needing a proper blow job before getting back to work so down on your knees.’

Seeing the guy still holding his thick shaft with a nice deep pink helmet, Dave got down ready to suck. As he moved his mouth closer to the guys swollen head, his hands went round the guy’s legs and he started rubbing up and down loving the feel of the HiViz waterproof trousers. Dave had never worn any Hi Viz before but had always imagined how sexy it would be

‘Good. Looks like you love Hi Viz gear. Bet you’d love to wear some while you swallow my cock.’

‘Sure, seeing you guys in your gear makes me so horny.’

‘Glad you said that mate as I like me blokes in gear. So keep that dick of yours nice and hard and I’’ll stuff my cock back in and you can come into he back of me van. A real Alladin’s cave for you. Follow me.’

The idea of seeing more Hi Viz was making Dave’s cock start to ooze some precum forming a

nice stain on his trousers. They walked up to the layby and the guy opened the back of the van.

‘Step inside quick.’ Dave did as he was told and sure enough it was like a dream. Strewn around the inside was a mountain of dirty used HiViz gear from jackets, to trousers and mud caked boots. The van stunk of piss, BO and unwashed feet.

‘So what you think of that eh? Fucking great stench ain’t it. Bet you’d love to get into some of this eh?’

‘Yes please.’

‘So strip off and let me see what I get for you in your size. Once you are dressed I want that blow job smart got it.’

‘Sure.’

The workie quickly sifted through the clothing and threw various items at Dave.

‘These should fit so get them on now. By the way great cock you’ve got there and Christ all this Hiviz I can see is making you so bloody hard. Nice bit of precum I can see.’

Dave was so worked up he wasted no time in putting on the trousers, a dirty ripped T shirt and even dirtier oil stained jacket with a pair of thick muddied boots.

‘That’s better. That’s how I like me men so get down. You’ll have no problem now sucking me dick.’

It was as though he had sniffed poppers. The stink in the van, him dressed as a workie with a workie’s big dick staring him in the face was perfect and his mouth was ready for anything. Again the workie seized the top of his own shaft while Dave on his knees had his hands around the workies legs and arse rubbing the dirty HiViz fabric. His mouth went straight in full of saliva. He let his mouth rest a few seconds as his tongue could feel the whole helmet in his mouth  and take in the mix of piss and precum. Dave suddenly felt the workie’s hand around his head.

‘I want you to take the fucking full length’ as he pushed Dave’s mouth all the way down until he could feel the thick black pubes brushing against his lips.

‘That’s better you stinking little workie. Its how you love it in all that gear. So fucking suck.’

Taking a firm hold of the workie’s arse cheeks and with the thick dirty hands around his head Dave started sucking hard the workie moving Dave’s head faster and faster up and down his shaft.

Dave’s own cock was totally rigid inside the HiVz trusets rubbing against the waterproof fabric making him more and more ready  to spunk himself.

‘That’s it boy taking the whole length, feel my pubes in yer mouth. Let me push you faster and faster. Christ that mouth of yours is made to do a blowjob. I’m bloody ready to come. I want you to swallow every bit of spunk from my balls.’

When Dave’s mouth was at the top of the workies shaft so he exploded a torrent of cum jet down Dave’s throat. Feeling the cum start rushing down his throat was too much for Dave to hold back any more and his own cock erupted cum inside the trousers and he could feel it running down inside against his legs. Lots of warm spunk.

‘Great blow job mate, and now I need to get back to work. Looks like the gear got you fully worked up.’

‘It was bloody amazing.’

‘Tell you what. This layby is a great cruising ground for workies and truck drivers. So you know, they only like having it off with each other. Anyone in a suit can forget it. We all love our sex dirty. I was so fucking horny today and I made do with you but thank Christ you like dirty Hi Viz. So keep the gear for now and you can come back as I know now you will. Let’s meet up in a week and you can let me know and maybe I can help a bit more. So get the fuck out take your own clothes and as you’re driving home you can think of all your cum hardening inside.’

With that Dave jumped out the van clutching his own clothes in his new Hi Viz

‘Thanks mate. See you in a week.

Dave got home in his new hiviz gear. He could not believe what had happened and his luck. He wanted to see what he looked like so immediately went to stand in front of his mirror.

‘Shit I look bloody amazing. Just like a real workie and the gear is all dirty with oil patches just as if I have been on a site. I’ve even got the council name on the back of the jacket.’

 He looked down at his trousers and saw that his cock was tenting. A fucking great bulge in someone else’s used trousers. He may had shed a load of cum but his cock was rigid and he wanted to see himself shoot. He went to unzip himself and then thought that the feel of spunking inside and letting the cum run down was so much better so he started rubbing the fabric and gripping his cock to feel the stiff nylon. With his other hand be brought up to his nipple and started tweaking through the nylon T shirt.

‘Christ this is amazing, one hand working my cock and the other pinching my nipple. All in full Hiviz. This is fucking brill.’

The more he let his hand rub up and down his shaft the more he nipped his nipples. He started shouting at the mirror

‘I’m a fucking workie and fucking dirty workie. I wanna fuck with a stinking workie. I wanna be a workie in Hiviz. I wanna wear this gear all the fucking time. I’m a fucking common workie.’

Shouting to himself while wanking and working his tits got him so worked up.

‘Shit I’m coming man. A full load of spunk from a dirty workie. Here it comes. Workie spunk.’

And with that his cock ejected streams of white cum against the nylon, some of it oozing out to form a big white patch and some running down inside into his boots.

‘Christ that was what I call a wank. The best ever. No way am I washing any of this. The more it stinks of cum the better. The guy said the layby was a cruising area for workies and truck drivers. Christ I need to go and take a look in my gear.’

Later in the week Dave decided to take an afternoon off work pretending he had the dentist.

He took the HIviz gear out of the bag and the first thing he noticed was the smell of dried cum, his cum. Even just putting the gear on again made him rock hard. He decided not to look in the mirror otherwise he would have to wank and he was looking for a bit more. Once his erection had gone down a bit he drove off to the layby. This time there was a van and removal truck parked up with only enough room for him to get in and park. He got out and walked past both van and lorry and there was no one inside either. He walked through the clearing and down the track and he could see two guys who were obviously making out. They were facing each other each one with his hand on the other’s cock. One of medium build with a shaved head was dressed in full yellow HiViz with yellow trousers a soiled vest and a dirty yellow waistcoat. The other was obviously the lorry driver. He was well over 6ft. broad build with a  Hi viz waistcoat checked shirt several buttons open to reveal a dark hairy chest, tight work jeans and large Timberland boots. His black hair was long and was greased back into a tight pony tail. His face was tanned with a thick black beard.

The truck driver said ‘Thank God its another workie. We had to tell an office lad to fuck off. Get over here mate and join in. I can see that rigid cock of your stretching down your Hiviz. Three is better than two.’

As Dave approached the lorry man put his arm around him

‘This should be good’ he said moving his arm down Dave’s back to his arse and giving his cheeks and firm clench.

‘Me friend here loves cock and I love arse so we have a winner and you look like you’ll do anything.’

Before Dave could do or say anything the workie put his hand on the outline of Dave’s shaft and gave it a good pull.

‘Let me get my hand in there and see that see that tool of yours boy.’ The workie put his hand inside and took hold of Dave’s cock.

‘That’s a good one you got there. Don’t worry I’ll give you a great blow job.’

‘While you’re taking his cock out undo his waist button for me mate.’

As the workie started to get down on his knees in front of Dave so the truck driver moved the back of his hi viz down exposing his cheeks.

‘That’s a fucking nice bum you have there me workie friend.’ He continued playing with Dave’s arse and spreading his cheeks out. Then he spit some gob onto one hand and placed two fingers at the opening his hole.

‘Let me ease this a bit for you mate and you’ll be able to take my nice juicy cock.’

By now the workie was in front of Dave holding his cock and using his tongue and spit to slide around Dave’s head making his cock tickle but also have a feeling running down his shaft of sheer pleasure

‘I told you he sucks well.’

The lorry man placed his hands firmly on Dave’s shoulders and suddenly he could feel a heavy cock pressing against his hole. Having his cock sucked he knew he needed the full service so he pushed his arse back ready to take what was coming

‘Christ you really want this fuck don’t you mate.’

‘Sure do’, Dave replied, by now his own cock was burning with pleasure as the guy moved his tongue and mouth further and further down the shaft until he could feel the guys lips pressing against his groin.

By the now the truck driver has slipped in past the hole and with Dave pushing his arse backwards so the lorry man moved further and further up the hole.

‘What a fucking great arse you’ve got mate. I tell you, this is much better than fucking the wife. Men are a much better fuck with their tight holes.’

By now Dave was sandwiched between the two, the workie on his knees his head being directed by Dave to move his lips up and down the shaft while the lorry man was pumping his arse with the guy’s breathing increasing with every thrust.

‘Jesus mate you’d better come back here again sometime. This is the best fuck I’ve had in ages. Could almost go fully gay or you. Bet you love this 3 way. 2 workies and a lorry man. We lot give the best sex.’

The truck driver took his hands away from Dave’s shoulders and placed them firmly around Dave’s waist to help his thrusting. Hope you two are just about ready as my spunk is about to shoot up inside you. Yours arse is so great I be shooting right up to yer mouth with what I have to give you. The workie was moaning with pleasure by now his hand was grabbing Dave’s balls and pulling them downwards. Dave looked down and said ‘Yeah pull me balls as you’re about to get an fucking mouthful.’

‘That’s it boy see and shoot your load as I’m ready.’

With one final thrust the lorry man rammed his cock so it was right up to the hilt and Dave could feel the hot spunk being forced out and further up his arse. The truck driver almost collapsed with his orgasm pushing his head onto Dave’s shoulder just at that point feeling all this cum in his arse, Dave erupted into the workies throat and he could see his own spunk dripping out the guys mouth and down his chin.

The workie then sat back taking hold of his cock and furiously starting to wank, his tongue licking all the cum around his mouth.

‘Shit man all this cum around I’m fuckin shooting my load’ and with that his prick let rip stream after stream hitting Dave’s Hiviz and running down to his boots.

‘Don’t wipe that up mate I want you to take that back as a memory of today.’

‘Jesus’ the lorry man said  ‘What a fuck. There’s something about you fucking workies that make me so fucking horny. Never fails to give me the best. Me wife can forget any sex for the next few days as I’ll be too busy wanking thinking of the two of you. Well I’d better get on. Thanks for that mates.’

Each got into their own vehicle and the workie and truck driver drove off. Dave slumped back in his chair. That had been the best ever.

Dave eagerly awaited the next few days until he went back to the layby and dressed up in his workie gear to go for his meeting with the council worker. Sure enough the van was parked up and as Dave got out of the car he saw the workie get out of his. He had been waiting

‘I knew you’d be back. Lets get into the back of the van.’

They got in and the workie asked Dave if the clothing had been a success.

‘It’s been amazing like all my dreams come true. I went back in your gear and hooked up with a workie and a truck driver. Christ I’ve never had sex like it. In fact just talking about it is making he hard.’

‘Hearing you talk about it is giving me a boner mate’So you like the gear then. What about being a workie?’

‘I wish I was a workie. If this is what life is like then it’s what I want’.

‘Well we all wish for some thing and not all are possible but some are. Tell you what why not have a change of gear. As you can see I have plenty here from other geezers so let me pick out some more stuff for you to put on.’

‘Yeah I’d like that being in another’s used clothing.’

Dave eagerly stripped off showing off his erect cock. The guy gave it a quick pull.

‘You really love this don’t you.’

‘It’s the best. What I love.’

‘Ok here get this stuff on you.’

Dave pulled on a pair of even dirtier HiViz green trousers. They seemed a bit on the big side but he said nothing and with them being a bit looser his cock was even more tented. He then put on the T shirt which had no buttons so it was gaping down his chest. Again it seemed a bit big. Then the worn steel capped muddy boots and they definitely were too big. Finally the yellow Hiviz thick outdoor jacket.

‘Feels really great but the other stuff seemed more my size.’

‘Don’t worry about that. You said something when we met that you wish you were a workie. You mean that.’

‘In this stuff yes man.’

‘Tell you what mate before we get down to some business I have a little bottle here just like poppers. This will make you feel really great, like you’ve never felt before. Go on have a good sniff.’

Dave had used poppers before so pressing in one nostril he took a deep sniff and then the other. Immediately he felt a heat moving down his whole body. It was like a river a heat moving down his arms and legs even to the tip of his erect cock. He felt dizzy and for a moment thought he might pass out but the same heat was circulating around his head.

‘How do you feel mate?’ the guy asked

‘I feel as if something is happening to my body as if I’m growing and I can feel my skin almost bursting but the heat is amazing and it feels good.’

‘So are the clothes still feeling big?’

‘No oddly not’

‘Go on take another good sniff.’

‘Sure this is great’Dave breathed in as deep as he could.

The boots were definitely now the right size but his legs were wider and no longer baggy in the trousers. He was taller. His torso was bigger and his chest had expanded. His nipples standing proud in the T shirt and the gap in the T shirt showed a chest of thick black hair. He looked down at his hands and the backs of his hands were covered in black hair and his fingernails full of dirt. His hands seemed enormous. Something on his face felt itchy and as he put his hand to his chin he realised he had a full thick beard but his hair had gone and instead it was shiny and shaved.

‘One more sniff ‘the guy said

Dave did as he was told and then felt his head ready to burst. He gave his head a firm shake and suddenly for a moment there was darkness  and then it changed to light.

‘Wow mate that was fucking great that stuff.’ Dave’s voice had completely changed. He had  a strong accent and it was much deeper. ‘Tell you what mate this stuff makes me so fucking hard and that means one thing. My cock’s going to now give you such a rogering before the bwo of us get back to the depot.’

Dave undid his Hi Viz and pulled out a cock that was a good 9” really thick at the top where it left his thick curly black pubes and tapering to a nice round pink head

Christ that’s some cock I now have, a real cock for fucking workie blokes. I know you’ve a hole in the back of your Hi Viz.’

Dave grabbed hold of the guy, turned him round and shouted ‘Bend over I’m ready for you.’ As the guy bent over he said

‘Great being fucked by a workie especially a guy who’ hairy and thick.’ The workie shouted

‘Cut the crap man’ Dave said and he felt for the hole in the hiViz. Once he found the opening he let a good gob of spit onto his new cock and rubbed it in over his head.

‘Always best when us workies fuck in our gear.’

Dave put his thick set hairy hands on the guys hips and directed his cock through the small gap of the Hiviz feeling the nylon brushing against his shaft and into the tight hole which was waiting for a fuck.

‘Get ready to take my tool’  Dave said and  he started to push his dick all the way up. ‘You’ve had a few cocks up you in the past and you’ll be getting more of mine in future. Undo you zip and let me get my hands on that cock of yours. Nice one you’ve got there.’

As Dave started to push in a out at first nice and slow so he could feel the tight arse against his shaft he let his hand slowly up and down the workies shaft but the feeling inside as he reached the hilt was too much he wanted to ram home faster and faster and as he did so his hand wanked the workie more and more. He loved feeling the top of his cock against the Hi Viz nylon and then he could feel their trousers rubbing together

‘That’s it what a fucking great hole you’ve got. Shit man I’m almost ready to spill my load. It feels as if you are too.’

‘Too right mate.’

With one final push Dave let out his cum, gushing up inside the workies arse and the workie ejaculated all over the gear in the van. Both men shouting ‘Fuck, fuck fuck.’ as they came

When they had finished and stuffed their cocks back into their HI viz, the workie turned to Dave and said

‘So how do you like being a workie?’

‘Best fucking job in the world. Once a workie always a fucking workie. Thanks mate. Lets get down to the depot and I just hope the other guys are up for some action.’

‘Don’t worry mate when they see you they all will be dropping their Hiviz.

Dave had made his wish. No longer the little boy but now the hairy man.

Thanks mate you’re a real pal and tell you what I’ll be back at this layby regularly.’

‘Bet you will. Orgy times ahead’

[humdinky]

i just finished watching scavenger's reign yesterday, and let me tell y'all this is genuinely the best piece of sci-fi media i have seen in a long while, and it's insane how little i've seen this show being discussed online! it is probably the most unique and viscerally stunning series i’ve ever seen. the world that they have created is equal parts fascinating and terrifying, and every part of it feels fully realized. sci-fi is at its best when it lets go of nostalgia and explores the unknown, and SR gives me hope that real sci-fi can take root again, and be something beyond what came before it.

i will refrain from giving too much away in my discussion because this show works best the less you know going into it. the premise for this show is simple: crewmembers of a crashed freighter ship are left scattered across an alien planet. a good chunk of time has already passed by the time the show begins, and a few of the survivors have already established camps. however, things quickly spiral out of control as disaster wipes away their progress and forces each of them to move on. it's a harsh and unforgiving world that tests them each and every step of the way on their journey.

worldbuilding is where this show truly shines. it is no easy thing to design an entire ecosystem from scratch. it takes an insane amount of creativity and attention to detail to pull off what this show has. and my god did they fucking pull it off. living balloons floating through the air, large sea creatures that suck up their eggs when faced with danger, tendrilled plants that spawn clones of their prey to track them down - it is a frightening, surreal, and violent world, but harmonious in its own way. some creatures poison you, others clean off the poison. there are your typical type of predators that come at you with sharp fangs and giant pincers, but then there are predators that hunt via more insidious means: manipulating the memories of their prey to have them do their bidding, or hijacking their bodies from the inside. ultimately, the characters who fare best in this world are those who learn to adapt to it, and even sync with it.

SR also boasts a surprisingly well-crafted narrative. we are shown just enough of the world to keep us hooked, but it still feels like there is a lot left to be discovered. i also really enjoy the way the story is delivered to us. we follow the journeys of a few isolated groups whose paths gradually intersect. the characters are all fleshed out and three-dimensional - they were different enough to be unique and quirky, but never too different that it felt overboard. the way they react is exactly how humans in those circumstances would and should, the dialogue and voice acting were just superb. it felt so insanely real at times.

i really do hope that this show gets greenlit for a second season. this type of pure creative freedom is what we need right now. all in all, scavenger's reign is a gorgeous nightmare that you need to experience for yourself.

#scavengers reign #sr #review #recommendation #movie review #movie recommendation #show review #show recommendations #animation #scifi #science fiction #xenobiology #alien

[celaenaeiln]

C: Hi there! Even if I've been reading dick Grayson(and in turn batfamily) fics for a few weeks now, I've never actually watched/read DC stuff because even if I liked superheroes, I'm not invested enough to read the actual comics. The most I watched was the Teen Titans 2003 cartoon(which I love). I was brought into interest cause I was brought in through crossovers of other fandoms (which may be hated by some/many😅)

To give myself context, I tried to read around for Robin, and imagine my surprise there's more than one? Which, okay mantle thing I guess. But in the end, Dick Grayson caught my attention(not rlly for his looks and design, but more of his heroism and entire personality and affect in the DC world). Which leads to looking at other tumblrs and I love reading yours and when you answer the asks cause it's so much easier for me to understand the kind of person Dick is and how he interacts with the world.

Sorry for this long context, but I just want maybe your opinion, what if your opinion in the combination of how Dick Grayson should be written for him to Thrive

- Should he stay in Gotham, being in with the batfamily more? Soloing in Bludhaven? Staying with the titans? Or others?

- what about his romantic relationships? Who should be is one true one(based on canon gfs), or maybe stay single? (Just gonna be biased, but I've only knew about dickbabs and dickkory (but I heard he has other girlfriends and I've remember reading he was almost married...a few times??) but dickkory had always been for me)

- What about mentally wise? (Of course, I do think Dick needs a long vacation because of all the trauma that he has to go through), but even if I like the idea of Dick being admired for his looks because he deserves it, but I do rmbr posts that he is uncomfy with this(sexualisation, Def only staying true to the person he loves (then there's the whole...Tarantula and more thing)

Tbf, I do think is a little bit of all is what makes Dick, Dick. Haha

Sorry for the long ask, feel free to not answer because i just needed to get this out😅. I know it's actually bad I'm reading fics without canon knowledge for personality, but your posts makes me understand him more that I understand what's real and what's fanon in fics (that makes me..ugh.. but I read anyway for plot cause i don't know better)

But thank you anyway for reading this and I love your content!

(last one for this ask I swear: I've been seeing stuff where Robin name is actually Dick's mom calling Dick that. Then it's passed down as a mantle starting from Jason without Dick consenting. I tried to read at wiki, maybe I missed out but I can't find anything. Is it true? Does the other bats (except Bruce and Alfred?) know the actual meaning? Because as much as I love Dami, the whole bloodson, birthright to take the mantle of Robin beside Batman give me ugh feelings if it's true) :C

First of all, thank you so much!! I'm so happy to hear you like my stuff <333!!

I think it's fine that you started in the fandom since I sort of started out that way too lol. I had only watched Teen Titans Animated show and Young Justice before I got into fanfics and my first comic I ever read was actually Teen Titans (2011) which was Tim's run. It's been a journey.

Dick's personality was also what captivated me so here I am!

"Should he stay in Gotham, being in with the batfamily more? Soloing in Bludhaven? Staying with the titans? Or others?"

That's a really good question and a complex one. Ironically, for being such a people person, Dick seems to be doing best when he's by himself. When he's soloing, he has a sense of freedom and independence that he's been craving for a long time. The whole reason he left Bruce was because he felt like Bruce was suddenly treating him like a kid, like someone to look after, when he had been treating Dick like a partner the whole time. When Dick feels like his independence is being stepped on, it unsettles him. This is another reason why the Tom Taylor run and Dick's relationship pisses me off but that's for another time. As much as he likes Gotham, he loves Bludhaven. He thinks it's a dirty, crime-filled city, sure, but he loves it there.

He's a little crazy like that.

He doesn't have the same attachment to Gotham that Bruce does. Instead he feels that for Bludhaven.

The only reason I'm saying Dick is better off staying alone than with the Titans is because of his leadership mentality. There's a comic that I forgot the name of but Dick teams up with members of the Justice League and they trapeze through a jungle under the orders of this corrupt military general. He teams up with Arthur and automatically starts commanding people to which Aquaman tells him off, saying this isn't the Titans. Dick is genuinely sorry and backs off. For a minute. But immediately goes right back into command mode but Arthur lets it go, realizing that Dick's not conscious of it and that his behaviour is automatic. "Too many leaders" he calls the situation in his head. For Dick, the Titans have become a responsibility now. He loves them like crazy but they look up at him automatically for directions and order and he's gotten so used to leading them that it's his go to mode.

He just likes doing stuff without someone hovering over his shoulder or having to take care of others.

"what about his romantic relationships? Who should be is one true one(based on canon gfs), or maybe stay single? (Just gonna be biased, but I've only knew about dickbabs and dickkory (but I heard he has other girlfriends and I've remember reading he was almost married…a few times??) but dickkory had always been for me)"

Yeah, I've actually loved almost all of his romantic relationships. I hate Dickbabs but every other one has been fantastic. Kori was great for him.

Action Comics (1938) Issue #618

Dick says it again here. He used to envy Roy's freedom. He's also said in another comic that he fell in love with Kori for her freedom.

Secret Origins (1986) Issue #13

You're right, he has gotten almost married a few times

The first time was with Kori

The New Titans (1988) Issue #100

But then

The New Titans (1988) Issue #100

their pastor gets vaporised and body-controlled Raven feeds the soul of one of Trigon's children into Kori and she goes crazy but she recovers but it's a whole ordeal. In the end they don't get a chance to complete their marriage. They were spectacular together though. The only reason their wedding didn't go through is because the Batfam writers wanted Dick back so they took him from the Titans' writers and they needed a big dramatic scene to cut him off from the Titans. Another reason why Barbara was deaged and created as a love interest- to gatekeep him in the family.

He's also gotten married to Barbara before the retcon though.

Batman Family Issue #11

But here they were forced to by Maze and they went along with it and tricked him. At the end though, they just grab a bite to eat.

Ngl I actually would've supported this marriage. I really love this Barbara. Yes the age difference is a bit much but whatever, I still like them.

Dick and Barbara have gotten married in an alternate timeline.

Convergence: Nightwing/Oracle Issue #2

yeah, definitely didn't like this one.

Dick's also gotten fake married to a woman because Batman and Dick thought she was killing her husbands after marrying them so Dick married her to see if it was true.

Nightwing (1996) Annual #1

I liked her. She wasn't the killer and Dick did a fantastic job raising her son but even though she loved him, he didn't love her and they divorced amicably. I wish I could see more of her and her son though.

To be completely honest, my favorites for Dick are Kori and Bea.

Bea was a fantastic partner. She was understanding, loving, caring, and responsible. She was there when he was Ric Grayson and just loved him for who he was.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #53

If Kori's truly out of the picture, then Dick really should've settled down with her.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #57

She and Kori, they don't tell Dick what to do or who to be. They let him be free which is why I loved them an extraordinary amount. I'm a sucker for soft moments and Bea and Dick are couple goals.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #62

They give him the freedom he craves.

"What about mentally wise? (Of course, I do think Dick needs a long vacation because of all the trauma that he has to go through), but even if I like the idea of Dick being admired for his looks because he deserves it, but I do rmbr posts that he is uncomfy with this(sexualisation, Def only staying true to the person he loves (then there's the whole...Tarantula and more thing)"

I think Dick does need a break. His life has been a series of unfortunate events but despite all that, I think he loves it that way. Dick loves the thrill of adventure. It's the heart of who he is and why he became robin. The excitement he gets when fighting or doing crazy stunts - he loves all of it and that is his coping mechanism. I guess in order for him to thrive, Bruce needs to stop dumping all his trauma and stop expecting him to be there for him at all times of the day. Dick keeps getting dragged back to Gotham to take care of Bruce and his problems and he would go in a heartbeat but he's much happier wacking his own goons in Bludhaven. But since Bruce is so codependent on Dick, this pattern's not gonna stop anytime soon.

Truth be told I also like Dick being admired for his looks. I don't like him being called out by it though. First of all why would you comment "hot booty" to someone? It's degrading and humiliating even if you think it's a compliment. Some things are better left untold. But regardless of what people think, Dick will always be pretty and everyone in the DC universe knows this. Heroes, civilians, villains - they're all attracted to him on some level because he's so beautiful. And honestly? I'm all for it! Because that boy is the prettiest human in existence and he deserves that recognition. Just not vocally or physically.

The best thing is that Dick's beauty has no bearing on his mentality toward people. This man will choose one person and stick with them forever. He values intimacy and trust and love in his relationships which is why he's so attached to each one. This plays a massive role in his relationship with Kori. He would never cheat. Actually in all the future comics, after his spouse passes away or leaves, he never remarries. The only one exception was Batman Beyond (2016). The only one and he remarries Barbara after his wife passes away. Aside from that he remains a single parent. That's how dedicated he is.

"I've been seeing stuff where Robin name is actually Dick's mom calling Dick that. Then it's passed down as a mantle starting from Jason without Dick consenting. I tried to read at wiki, maybe I missed out but I can't find anything. Is it true? Does the other bats (except Bruce and Alfred?) know the actual meaning? Because as much as I love Dami, the whole bloodson, birthright to take the mantle of Robin beside Batman give me ugh feelings if it's true)"

Yup Dick's mother called Dick Robin.

Nightwing (2011) Issue #0

Robin (1993) Annual #4

Here's a couple but there are more instances of his mom calling him Robin.

Dick had no idea Bruce passed on the Robin costume. He finds out through the newspaper because Bruce is pissed at Dick. Like he's so mad that when he told Dick to leave, Dick actually left.

You know how there's a saying about not being able to take back words of anger? Bruce is feeling that heavily. He already had suspicions that Dick wanted to leave but before Dick could tell him, he fired him so he wouldn't have to hear those words. But Bruce is super mad that Dick left anyway. So what does he do? He makes the first boy he sees Robin.

And Jason finds out Dick was Robin when he confronts Bruce why Nightwing knows Bruce's identity. And that gets Bruce more mad because he's now feeling guilty which is when Dick comes to confront Bruce.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But instead of meeting anger for anger, Dick expresses his hurt. About how they were partners and then talks about his life after leaving Bruce.

And Bruce loves Dick. His best friend, son, brother, and partner for nearly 11 years. They raised each other and despite his anger, he smiles in pride and love.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Look at his smile!! He's so proud of his son.

And that's when Dick stops pulling his punches.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Bruce looks so wrecked. The guilt and sorrow is tantamount to his pain.

Then Dick asks Bruce why he choose someone new.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

So Bruce tells him. But Dick and Bruce's relationship go way deeper than just friends or family. They know each other. They revolve around each other so Dick calls him out.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And out comes the truth

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But Dick has always been the bigger man and instead of letting Jason become some sort of spite move, he turns Robin into a legacy.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He passes it down like it was meant to be passed down. Because let's be honest here. The Robin name and costume is Dick's. If he wanted to, he could've taken it back, Bruce be damned. And that was one of Jason's fears.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But despite Bruce's words to Jason

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He's not sure himself.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But it's only with Dick's approval that he becomes Robin which is what Bruce is thanking at the end.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And this has been a sort of tradition.

Dick approved of Jason being Robin, he endorsed Tim, and he made Damian Robin. The only exception being Stephanie. This is why Dick feels a heavy sense of responsibility over the robin predicament. He created the tradition. He approved, supported, and mentored every robin that walked in his colors and name. That's why he feels the burden of it.

I don't think any of the other robins know the meaning behind the name. Maybe they do. But ironically, the one who wasn't robin is the one who knows the meaning of it.

Duke.

#dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #koriand'r #barbara gordon #bea bennett #dickkory #beadick #jason todd #robin jason todd #cl anon asks #thanks for the ask! #I'm always happy to receive asks or comments so don't feel worried about sending me more! I loved reading this <33! #cl asks

[heartbreakprincewille]

I've seen some people say that August becoming the Crown Prince isn't really a punishment for a person like him and he basically got everything he wanted.

And it IS true on some fronts. He will be holding the title of King, his name will go down the history, he will be wealthy and will be the pinnacle of class and privilege and everything he believes in AND he will be good at his duties.

But he won't be happy.

Throughout the seasons, we see his shell break, little by little. He is not a changed person by the end, but we get to see more of where he comes from and how he feels about everything that happens around him. He does not become a selfless, remorseful and redeemed person- he still sees the world from his self-obsessed lens. But that lens shifts from almost-evil narcissism to a sort of awareness- that he is a person who can love, and can be loved, a person who can be truly happy. But then Sara leaves him for good- and he has no reason to hold onto this hope. What is he supposed to do with this awareness, when he has no one to reinforce it back to him?

And now he will be the Crown Prince. The eventual King. His circle will be extremely restricted, his life will be controlled by a whole institution. Unlike Wilhelm, August is more of a pleaser when it comes to authority figures- how can he ever find a way to find happiness for himself when he will be too busy people-pleasing?

He will be living the ultimate Cishet Man-Alpha Male Life- a life full of power, status and he will enjoy aspects of it, there's no denying- after all, he is a believer in class and heirarchies. But he will also shrivel in his shell- he will be giving himself away to an institution which leeches onto anyone who is willing to step into its shoes, the Individual Person behind that title be damned.

Whenever I think about what his life will be like as a Royal, I remember that scene from S3 E5- a drunk August gulping down wine after wine, the life of the party, the "crowned" Bad Boy of his class, seemingly having the time of his life. But then he steps out of the room for some air, and he throws away the title of "Bad Boy"- a title based on how people perceive him, but he no longer identifies with it. He is relieved only when he sees Sara- a person who showed him a part of himself he does identify with. But now, he no longer has access to that part of himself.

In my mind, August will be a true successor to Kristina- carrying the legacy of an institution forward even if it costs them their relationships and their mental peace, with an unfortunate romance locked somewhere in their hearts. But his journey to accept this role would be harder than it was for Wilhelm- after all, August was the spare of a spare. How could he ever know what was coming for him?

I think that is why an open ending works for his character- we can imagine him extremely smug to win the lottery ticket, but we can also imagine him realizing that he willingly stepped into a trap he can never free himself from.

#young royals #august young royals #yr s3 spoilers

[wroteclassicaly]

The Show

(Eddie Munson x Female Reader)

Summary: You really love putting on a good show for Eddie.

Warnings: Language, Eddie with a slight breeding and daddy kink, NSFW, and masturbation.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A/N: I just came up with this on a whim and I’ve been working on it for a few days. It’s not my best, but I hope some of y’all like it, at least? I have more stuff coming soon! Love y’all, and enjoy!? ;)

~*~

Everything he does has you on the edge of a jagged precipice, body taking hits from all sides, completely engulfed. Today is another normal Indiana day in your supernatural town, but it’s a quiet one. Well, for others anyways… Your brain is loud, screaming on behalf of your body to be satiated. You and your boyfriend Eddie Munson are usually attached at the hip, sans individual activities (whether it be for yourselves or with friends), and today he happens to have band practice.

It doesn’t matter to you, as he’s been prone to having surprise sessions with his gang. After he gave you his half for a shared dinner celebration for getting through another week (thank fuck for pizza), you’d agreed to go straight to his place and chill. Wayne was already gone for the night and you liked to go through Eddie’s things and have fun, so it was a no brainer. With a quick trip to the grocery to grab some beer and sodas, followed by a pizza pick up—you trekked your way to the Munson household with a pep in your step. Eddie had told you to go ahead and eat, but you settled on putting the box into the fridge for later, sliding in a few sodas for you and two beers for your guy.

~*~

The journey down the trailer’s hallway is a short one, amusement lacing your tone as you push open Eddie’s door and are immediately greeted with the wafting scent of this morning’s joint, his old spice, and the musty baseboard heater packing its rickety punch.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you purr, stepping towards that delicious guitar hanging from his cluttered mirror. “It’s not your daddy, but I’m here.”

Closing the door behind you, you toss your tattered bag on the bean bag chair you’d bought for the room a few weeks ago, already making a beeline for Eddie’s skull littered bandana on his nightstand. Lifting the object, you tie it around your forehead and sidestep to the full length he’d also recently hung on the wall (per your request). You spin around a few times and purse your lips, blowing the cheesiest kiss in history. “Ah, yes.” You giggle and head to the stereo and mess of tapes shrouding its entirety. You know what’s been putting Eddie in a good mood lately, and what you feed off of as well.

It’s another no-brainer that you select Metallica’s newest release, enjoying it as it floods your eardrums and settles. You remove your coat and shoes, sliding over Eddie’s sheets and onto your tummy, rolling over on your back and sighing in relaxation once your weight feels lighter. You hum along with each guitar riff, thinking back to Eddie’s attempts at each song, how his fingers mimic the movements late at night in his bedroom to get a feel, before he tries to play a chord— it weighs heavily in the recesses of your memory. And it’s just you there with him, watching from your side of the bed, sheets curled around your waist, Eddie in his checkered boxers and tattoos prominent in the low lamp light, snatching the pick from his neck to strum gently over the body of his beloved. Your toes curl in your socks, the visual an embodiment of the purest sin known to mankind.

With Eddie’s smell surrounding you into a familiar housing, an array of dizzying memories pausing your presence, you’re already aware of the throb that tickles your tummy and tags your cunt in a downward spiral. Another easy decision comes in you quickly shedding your bra and jeans, leaving you clad in your t-shirt, socks, and panties. You relax into the bed, fingers reaching to adjust the bandana on your head, eyelids fluttering closed, hands splayed across your stomach, fingers toying with the elastic of your panties. You need to, but you won’t. Not yet…

~*~

10:22 PM stares back at you in bold red letters, shining from the alarm clock stationed on the scuffed nightstand. Indiana winds are rough, scattering Autumn’s first real storm against the entirety of the trailer. You wonder if it’ll still be raining when he comes in, because Eddie’s band soirées can go on until one or two in the morning, so upon hearing the front door creak open (surprisingly) and slam shut seconds later, locks sliding into place and Eddie’s less than graceful footfalls approaching—you set your plan in motion. Flipping onto your side with your back facing his eyeline, you cling to his pillow and stuff the other between your thighs, feigning slumber, a delicious thrumming starting to gallop in your pulse point. His bedroom door rattles on rusted hinges and you hear his breathing hitch, a quiet clicking of his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

You smile to yourself, that high causing your pride to soar at how you can affect him like this. You’re not speaking, residing in your placing, his bandana secured on your head, something you know he’s seen by now. It takes a few more bated breaths and the sounds of his boots and leather jacket hitting the floor, keys being tossed over onto the dresser, and you feel the bed dip beneath his weight. His rings, made cool from outside temperatures, stain against your skin as he stumbles a light brushing touch over your tailbone, fingertips hovering atop the elastic of your panties. His voice is wind bitten, a throaty rasp on the rise. “Hey, sweetheart. Did you miss me?”

You can’t take his cologne or the perspiration of his practice lingering—any longer, flipping onto your back, pillow between your thighs forgotten, nuzzling into his hold. He rests a palm on your belly, smirking, knowing you’ve been awake this whole time. His elbow props above your head, fingers dangling to stroke across your forehead, tapping his bandana, noticing his favorite tape playing. “You goin’ through my shit again?” There’s not a trace of malice or irritation, but a fond amusement.

You shrug and let your hand drift to his jugular, knuckles scrubbing over the stubble you find there. When you drink in his face it takes the breath right out of your lungs, sucker socking your guts. He’s gorgeous. His chocolate irises are a thin ring against the contrast of inky pupils, his lips red from the cold, chapped from his last cigarette. Those shaggy locks are windswept, yet soft, and all that remains on his body is the long sleeved ivory sweater, a few holes here and there, and his white wash jeans—your favorite pair he owns, in addition to the black denim.

“Your hands are cold. You’re cold.” Is your response, ignoring his accusation that is always true.

“Guess I need someone to warm me up then, don’t I?” He doesn’t fight off your touches, knees knocking with your own, socked feet poking at your own, using his toes to tickle yours. You giggle like an idiot and kiss the side of his neck, inhaling without shame.

He groans his appreciation, leaning in to kiss you softly, one that conveys his missing you, despite the short hours of separation. You reciprocate, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking, releasing. He’s starting to rock into your side, that bulge quickly becoming visible in his tight jeans. On the spit-slit break away, he thumbs your jawline with a fresh calloused thumb from his practice tonight, nose nudging yours. You’re shaking, already prepared to agree with him. “Does my little princess need something?”

“Eddie…” You spread your legs, fucked out enough as it is, forget vocal communication. Taking his wrist, you slide it between your legs, arching, rubbing the sopping wet fabric of your underwear over his palm. “M’ fucking wet, baby.”

Eddie turns onto his side and squeezes over your cunt, licking his way into your mouth for another sloppy kiss. As you part, he tugs on your underwear and you lift your hips. “Let’s take these off, sweetheart?”

Always a question, but never an assumption. Your gentleman. Once your panties hit the foot of the bed and Eddie can really see your soaked pussy, that primal shift slides into place, locking his insides. He stares at you as you watch him. “Yeah? You gonna play with yourself? Touch that pretty little pussy in front of me?”

Your metal head will never pass up the chance to see you pleasuring yourself, letting you set the pace, using him for whatever you have to have at the moment. He kisses your cheek and lingers. “What do you need me to do, baby?”

“Just… watch?” Your pupils have doused your irises of their remaining color, and you’re fading away in the haze of something only Eddie Munson can provide.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart.” Eddie’s sweater goes next and he unbuckles his belt to help alleviate a little pressure, taking you into his arms and curling his ankle over one of yours, helping you keep your legs spread wide open.

He slides his smokes and lighter from his front pocket and lights a stick, a cloud swirling above your head as you lean back and watch it dissipate, fingers greedily taking some of your slick and rubbing it around your swollen clit. You jolt into the friction, whining. Eddie moans in unison. “How does that feel, my princess? Shit, you’re so unbelievably fuckin’ wet. It’s takin’ everything in me not to pull my dick out and pound you into this bed.”

Your fingers immediately slide down and press into your awaiting cunt, that squelch causing an embarrassing sound to pass your lips. Eddie mouths your neck in appreciation, inspiring a continuation. “That’s a good girl. Take those fingers in my cunt.”

His cunt? The hair on your arms stands at attention, goosebumps splattering your flesh. Eddie nods into your skin. “S’ right, little girl. It’s where I cum, where I’m gonna put my baby in you—“ He breaks briefly, lips by the shell of your ear. “And that means it’s mine.”

He leans over momentarily and stubs the cigarette out.

He stops himself after, wanting for you to engage in your solo performance, both of you high off his cue cards. You start fucking yourself faster, thighs tensing, toes curling, your back arching, one hand finding your breast over your t-shirt. Eddie raises you into a slight lift, yanking at the collar until it’s sliding off. “You wanna show daddy how you touch your tits, hmm? What you did to yourself before I touched them?”

The second that your fingers touch your nipple, you bury your face into the curvature of Eddie’s neck and shoulder, crying out. Your fingers curl inside you, nudging that spot that Eddie can find with better ease, but it’s enough to stimulate your oncoming orgasm. You’re drenched in your own arousal, every press in squishing a fresh wave of the translucent cream back out, captivating Eddie. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and pulls hard enough that he tastes copper, resisting his urges to fuck his hand. This is about you right at this moment—hell, for being witness to this private show, it’s about him too.

You cup your breast and roll the globe, twisting, pinching your nipple and scraping your nails over your areola. Eddie lays kisses to your temple and forehead, finally finding it in himself to speak. He knows what you need to get there, that extra push. And he’s more than happy to oblige. “Princess?”

You remove your sweat slick face from your Eddie scented cocoon, barely conscious. “What, Eds?”

He’s smiling proudly, kissing above your top lip. “Can I offer you some service? Perhaps a thumb?”

When you’re frowning, he holds the digit up and you whine so loudly he could cum in his pants from the sound alone. He presses his thumbpad against your clit and circles the swollen flesh with gained expertise, his mouth finding solace by your earlobe. “Atta girl. You gonna cum for me?”

“Jesus, Eddie. Want to.”

“Oh yeah? Come on then, show me how you cum. Remind me.” He presses down harder, bracelet jostled on his arm as the tendons in his wrist flex with his movements. That has you clenching around your fingers, shivering into a climax that has your eyes rolling back in your head and a scream tearing its way free of your diaphragm, battering your lungs on the way up and out.

Eddie’s cock twitches, an ache dragging him by his throat and not relinquishing its powered grip. There’s a wet spot pooling over his crotch and he’s about to burst. He noses you into a devilish kiss full of a sinful nights’ promise, and you’re flooded with an orgasm that leaves you feeling featherlight, soaking into your every pore and blocking off every sense. You can’t speak, unable to even say your boyfriend’s name. It’s a sight to behold, one that Eddie kisses you right through, his palm bumping your wrist bone as you thrust your fingers into your heat, riding out the last part of your steep ride.

Only when you start panting for breath and trembling, fingers sliding out, a mess, does Eddie calm you with his honey-hot tone. “Good girl. You’re so fucking hot, sweetheart.”

You’re shaking and curling close to him, hot breath on his neck. He pets down the expanse of your back, his other hand lifting your fingers to his mouth to admire the webbed shine, his tongue licking the digits clean, moaning around them with an, “Mhm.”

You laugh softly, coming back to yourself, doe eyed and simping for your guy. He grins that familiar grin, placing your hand to rest on his navel, where you scratch at that fluffy happy trail.

“An eternal goddess that uses the sun and moon to do her bidding. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing her cum.”

“You’re cheesy as fuck, baby.” You murmur, hand lifting to take off the bandana.

Eddie halts you. “Leave it? I wanna fuck you while you wear it.”

~*~

#kristenwrites #my work #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #stranger things 4 smut #stranger things 4 fic #stranger things 4 #stranger things

[heliza24]

Wilhelm's Journey of Radical Forgiveness in Season 3

So this is the next entry in my unintentional series, about how Young Royals embraces truly radical story telling. Previously I’ve written about Simon in season 2 and his arc of radical acceptance, and about how radical the act of quitting the monarchy could be for Wilhelm (and I have never been so happy to be right about anything). But now I’m ready to start talking about season 3, which I loved, and specifically about the theme of radical forgiveness, which I thought was laced throughout the whole season beautifully and drove Wilhelm’s arc specifically.

Before I jump in, I want to pause and really define the concept of radical. When I’m using "radical" in this context, I’m talking about something that challenges the nature of what we assume to be true. I’m talking about embracing an idea that may not seem logical at first, but feels emotionally true and necessary. And I’m talking about ideas that are revolutionary, that have the potential to change people and societies.

When I went in to season 3, I assumed from the beginning that it would end with Wilhelm leaving the monarchy. I have always seen this as the fundamental question of the show (will Wilhelm stay and fulfill his predetermined destiny, or leave and find his own path?). Wilhelm’s relationship with Simon is a catalyst for that decision and their ability to stay together depends on its answer. (There’s no world where Wilhelm remained prince and Wilmon was still endgame.) But during the gap between episodes 5 and 6, I realized that even if you could sum up Wilhelm’s overall series conflict as crown vs freedom/Simon, that was not the major thing driving him in season 3. Or rather, there was another dramatic question he needed to answer, or internal conflict he needed to solve, before he could decide to walk away from the throne and fix his relationship with Simon.

Season 3 starts with the private arbitration/settlement negotiation, and immediately establishes how inadequate legal and financial reparations are at mending the divide between Wilhelm, Simon, and August. Instead this setup pushes Wilhelm into more conflict with August, making him feel like he has to defend his family from August’s incursions. At the same time, the season also opens with the initiation reveal, and the immediate implication that Erik was one of the perpetrators of the sexual abuse that occurred and that August was one of the victims. Suddenly the audience is able to see that the perfect family Wilhelm thinks he is defending— including Erik’s memory— is so much more complicated than Wilhelm realizes. And at the same time, the supposed threat that August poses is also much more complex. No one is as black and white, as good or as evil, as we would like to believe. And Wilhelm’s arc this season is all about understanding this.

There’s one more component to Wilhelm’s arc this season, and that’s his relationship with Simon. As the season goes on, we see Wilhelm become more and more complicit in the abuse Simon suffers. As the season progresses, Wilhelm becomes an enforcer of the palace, asking Simon to give up more of himself, to compromise more of his values, to be with him. By episode four he is saying some pretty homophobic things (“do I have to represent all queers just because I’m in love with you” feels like a slap in the face) and by episode 5 he is subjecting Simon to a violent outburst, even if it’s not directed at him. Wilhelm says almost the exact same thing to Simon that Erik said to him in season 1 (“everything you do now represents me and the royal house”/“everything you do reflects on us as a family”). Kristina is explicitly asking Wilhelm to step up and fill Erik’s shoes this season, and Wilhelm obeys in more ways than one. Wilhelm begins to pass on the same cycle of abuse that is currently affecting him to Simon. The same cycle that has affected Kristina, Erik, August, and Wilhelm is affecting Simon now as well.

In order for Wilhelm to break this cycle, he has to be able to see what he is doing. And he cannot do that until he recognizes and accepts the nuances in both Erik and August. He can’t move on until he has made some sort of peace with both of them.

I think it was a genius idea to trap Wilhelm and August in Hillerska’s version of couple counseling (lol) and force them to talk to each other. (As an aside, I really do love how this show treats therapy as a thing worthy of being dramatized. It’s so powerful.) I also think it was important to see August begin to make some steps of his own, both in therapy and in the way he begins to give Wilhelm and Sara more space. We don’t really see the end of August’s arc of slow self improvement— by the end of the show he’s still very much trapped in the royal cycle and dependent on Sara in a way that’s problematic— but that’s ok because he isn’t the protagonist, and the important thing is that we notice that he is beginning to change, and so does Wilhelm.

The scene at the end of 3.4, when August tells Wilhelm about what happened during the initiation, is so important. August delivers that information genuinely, and not as a threat. And in that moment Wilhelm’s perception of his brother (and secondarily, of August) is flipped upside down. I think even more important is the kind of unspoken question lurking under this new information for Wilhelm: if I idolized Erik, and I detested August, and my image of both of these people was incomplete, then what does that say about me?

I think we can see Wilhelm questioning his perception of his family and of himself in a lot of subtle ways over the last two episodes. We see him put on nail polish and take it off. We see him afraid to ask his dad for more information about Erik on the phone, and then screaming at his parents for the way they abandoned him. We see him struggling to integrate this new information, and he completely neglects Simon because of it, leading to the breakup.

By episode 6, Wilhelm has lost Simon, reached a sort of catharsis with his parents, and maybe most importantly seen Hillerska itself— the setting where the abusive system seems to be baked into the very walls— crumble. All of the things he though were untouchable (his love for Simon, his parents’ authority, the everlasting nature of Hillerska) have completely changed. And I think all of that instability is what allows Wilhelm to finally accept that his understanding of both Erik and August doesn’t have to be permanently fixed either. I love the scene where August and Wilhelm meet at the party, August apologizes, and Wilhelm accepts his apology. And I also love the scene where Wilhelm throws out the broken frog prince snow globe, the one enduring symbol the show has associated with Erik and Wilhelm and their shared role over and over again. I know different fans will have different arguments about how Wilhelm feels about August at the end of the series, but for me their last interaction symbolizes radical forgiveness. By this I don’t mean that Wilhelm has to forget about what August did to him, just like he doesn’t have to forget the bad things Erik has done to others. But he does have to accept them as they are- full of flaws, but intricately connected to him. As part of his imperfect family. And he lets go of the violent anger that has plagued him through much of the series in that moment. That’s a type of forgiveness that makes a real change. It opens up a whole new avenue of possibility for Wilhelm. Because in extending that radical forgiveness towards August and Erik, he’s also able to forgive himself for the way he too has failed the people he loves.

Actually, I think there’s one more component necessary for that self forgiveness, which is Simon telling Wilhelm that he never gave up on Wilhelm himself, only on the Royal family and its rules. That one line is such a gift to Wilhelm. It allows him to see himself as an individual who is separate from his family and able to make his own decisions for the first time. It allows him to fully forgive himself, and to make the decision to leave for his own sake. It allows him to save himself. And then because he has saved himself, he and Simon can be together again.

So in the end Wilhelm ends up answering the driving dramatic question (crown or freedom?) but only after he extends radical forgiveness to his family members and to himself. I think it’s so beautiful, it makes me cry every time I think about it.

This theme of radical forgiveness is everywhere this season, not just in Wilhelm’s arc. It’s in Sara and Felice’s reconciliation, and in Sara and Micke’s relationship, and in the ways that Sara forgives herself and moves beyond shame (expect another meta from me about Wilhelm and Sara season 3 parallels soon, because there are many and I love them). It’s in the way that Linda and Simon forgive each other, and the way that Simon forgives Wilhelm, and the the way that Simon forgives Sara. It’s even in the ways that August grows in fits and starts this season too. I feel like I learned so much from this season. It challenged my assumptions about characters I thought I knew and reminded me to that there is beauty in acknowledging nuance in the world. And I think it will serve as an ongoing reminder for me that even when I mess up and do not live up to my ideals, I am still worthy of radical forgiveness. Growth can’t happen without that compassion towards ourselves and others. And if that isn’t the most perfect message to take away from this beautiful show that I have loved for so long, I don’t know what is.

#young royals #young royals season 3 #young royals s3 spoilers #my meta #wilhelm young royals

[janus-cadet]

The second card according to last week's poll- Husker, our dear old cat man, as The Hermit! It's also the eleventh card for the Hazbin/Helluva fandom. Which is- the most consistent I ever been in drawing for a fandom? Hurray!

The next one, Adam, is already decided- but I'm planning to do two more cards before maybe, eventually, taking a break. So, before we go under the cut for the explanations for the choice of card...

Yes indeedy. It's the mothers' poll.

Back to the grumpy old man!

The Hermit Upright is a card strongly linked to self-discovery and inner wisdom. It invites you to retreat into your private world and experience a deep sense of instrospection- a journey you have to do alone, to find you inner guiding light, and choose the next steps you'll have to take.

It might seem strange to chose Husk to represent it- but as much as his character seems stand-offish and disgruntled, he does strick me as someone who has done a lot of self-reflecting, and is able to see each other characters' situations with a clarity that no one else, in the show, seems capable of. He is aware of who he is, of what mistakes he make: this is a man who knows himself, and who finds wisdom in his own flaws.

And much as the Hermit of the card, he's a man who walked on this path alone (thinking that no one could relate- prefering the quiet and the solitude to the company) until he reached the point when he was ready to let others in, albeit in a small, careful way. Finding, despite himself, a place in the small group of the hotel, and a soulmate in Angel.

But the Hermit card often appears when you are at a pivotal point in your life, and maybe considering a new direction. Would that be, for example... redemption? Now, Husker is not quite there yet- but it's undeniable that his mere involvement with the hotel places him on a pivotal point in life, and one that encourages him to deepen his self-examination. This time to also accept the good in himself, and re-evaluate his personnal goals.

Finally, the Hermit may appear in your life as a spiritual mentor- one that may be an expert in his own right (a wise old bartender, who've seen it all), but who will teach you to find your answers within yourself. Which. Loser, Baby.

Okay, it's a lot of talking already. Bear with me, we're now going on the Reverse Hermit.

For as much as I feel like Husk's character is the most in-tune with himself, the struggles is still undeniable. The Reversed Hermit, therefore, encourages you to search deep within your sould, to help you find your way again, to find your way out of the bottle, and focus on rebuilding yourself. You may be damaged, but you can still go on with your life, and improve your situation; it all starts by working on yourself. Be careful not to isolate yourself too much, too. You should not be fully cutting yourself off from others, like a literal Hermit; do not underestimate the value of the connections you can form with people around you. And really, our dear Husker is getting there!

The Hermit Reversed can also indicate an unwelcome isolation in your relationship: one person may want to be alone or withdraw from the relationship, while the other wants to deepen the connection. You will need to respect each other's request for space (not by pushing your partner off his chair, Husker), but also be there to support as appropriate.

And that's it for today! We'll see each other again tomorrow, when I'll drop the first man himself- Adam, as the King of Pentacles. I hope this silly bird would apreciate the irony.

This is not, actually, the first time I drew the Hermit- but the first one, eh, I really did not like it. So, Husker becomes the official Hermit of the deck!

(If you have time,consider checking my friend @mimmixerenard 's version of humanized!Husker, it's very very good. Here is the link)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin fanart #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin husker #husk #husker #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #the hermit #tarot project #human husk

[libraryofgage]

Steddie Pokemon AU

So, Pokemon Concierge is on Netflix, and it's just so good guys. Like, it gives me the same vibes that Pokemon Soul Silver does. I can't explain it, but it hit right in the yearning part of me that wants to live in a Pokemon world.

Anyway, I wrote this to kinda counteract that yearning lmao

This is a fluffy AU, very wholesome and little-to-no angst. If there is any, none of it is related to Steddie. It also jumps back and forth, showing Steddie's life now and the journey of them getting together and settling down.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

------

Present

Steve slowly approaches the agitated Rapidash. His hands are raised to be visible, his shoulders are relaxed, and Dustin is standing with his Vaporeon a few feet away just in case he needs to put out a fire or two. Steve's Dragonite is standing behind Dustin, ready to pull him away at the first sign of trouble. The Rapidash glares at Steve warily, smoke billowing from its nostrils as it moves back and forth in its tiny enclosure. A fire-proof strip of leather is wrapped around its snout, keeping it from biting or snapping at anyone who wanders too close.

On his head, Steve's Buneary, named Bunna on a whim by El, shifts anxiously, her ears perked as she tugs at his hair. He doesn't give any indication that he notices, keeping his eyes on the Rapidash. When he's a few steps away, the Rapidash's eyes widen and it rears back, making Steve freeze.

He takes a deep breath, keeping his heart at a calm pace. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he says, his voice low and soothing. "My name is Steve. This is one of my partners, Bunna. We're not really from around here, but you could probably tell, huh? We traveled here from Hawkins. That's a tiny little town off Route 86. Really pretty, big fields to roam and a forest all around. You can even see the stars at night."

As he speaks, the Rapidash slowly calms down, shifting occasionally but no longer rearing back. The animosity in its eyes has diminished some as well, leaving behind a hesitant wariness. Steve smiles gently, taking another step closer. When the Rapidash doesn't try to warn him away, he continues to slowly approach.

He reaches the fence of the enclosure this time and slowly exhales. "Can I?" he asks, slowly reaching out only to freeze when the Rapidash snorts in warning. "Okay, no problem."

When Steve drops his hand again, Bunna takes it as her cue. She hops off Steve's head, balances carefully on the fence, and chitters as she approaches the Rapidash. It's fine with other Pokemon, allowing her to come close enough to reach the leather strip wrapped around its snout. Bunna pokes it a few times with a pink-topped ear, jumps onto the Rapidash's snout to step on the strip with her paw, and then hops back down.

"Bun!" she shouts, waving her paws at the Rapidash. "Bu, Neary, Ne Ne, Bunear." As she speaks, she gestures to Steve with her ears.

After a few moments, the Rapidash puffs out another little cloud of smoke, and Bunna nods. She turns and jumps onto Steve, landing on his shoulder and settling there happily. "Thank you," he says, reaching up to gently scratch under her chin before approaching the Rapidash.

This time, it doesn't move, but it does watch closely. Steve continues to be slow and gentle, reaching up to feel along the leather strip. He eventually finds the clasp holding it in place and carefully pulls it loose. Once he's gently tugged it off, the Rapidash snorts and stretches its jaw, revealing teeth that could easily clamp down on Steve's hands.

They don't, though. Instead, the Rapidash studies Steve for a few more seconds before nudging its snout against his hands. Steve smiles wider, gently smoothing the fur that had been flattened by the leather. "I'm gonna let you out now, okay? And then we can go back to Hawkins and you can rest for as long as you'd like," he promises.

Once he's finally gotten the Rapidash out of its enclosure and comfortable enough to travel, he waves for Dustin to slowly approach. The Rapidash moves to stand behind Steve, wary but not aggressive with Steve acting as its shield. "Man, I thought it was gonna bite your hand off," Dustin says, his shoulders slumped with relief as his Vaporeon winds around his feet. "I was ready to call out your Chancey."

Steve waves off his concern. "No, it wouldn't hurt me unless I spooked it," he says, feeling the Rapidash gently nudge him in the back. He looks over his shoulder, noting the impatience in its eyes and its eagerness to leave this place already. "All right, all right, we're going."

"Can we visit Eddie when we get back?" Dustin asks, watching as Vaporeon scampers up Dragonite's tail and settles on his head.

"If he's not busy. It's spring, Dustin. You know he gets more challengers in spring."

Dustin grins. "Yeah," he says, "I wanna see him kick their asses."

Steve snorts, reaching over and shoving the bill of Dustin's cap down.

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

Past

Technically, this is the third time they've met, if Steve could even call it meeting. The first two times he and the other boy crossed paths, it was while Steve was leaving a gym, riding the high of victory. He'd nodded to the boy in greeting before hurrying to the Pokemon Center to heal his team and plan a celebration dinner.

The third time they meet, they're in Juniper Village, and it's raining. Steve is sitting in one of the many fields in the village, letting himself get soaked as he wallows in his own misery over his third failed gym battle. His Dratini is curled up next to him, his Ralts is moping in his lap, and his Riolu is leaning against his back, nearly as devastated as Steve. If not for the rain, his Growlithe would be out as well.

Maybe it's dramatic of Steve, but he's allowed a little drama sometimes. It's not like he walked into the gym expecting to win with ease, but the wall he keeps hitting shows no sign of cracking, and a quiet whisper in the back of his mind keeps saying this is where his journey ends. He'll never get past the Juniper Village Gym, he'll never reach the Elite Four, and he'll never prove to his parents that wanting to spend his time with Pokemon is more than a childish fantasy he should get over.

His eyes are just beginning to sting when something rolls into his knee. Steve blinks, looking down to see a Sandshrew pop open and tilt its head at him. He's about to cover it with his jacket (it can't possibly be comfortable in the rain) when a hand with ring-covered fingers reaches out and gently knocks the Pokemon on the head. With a quiet poof the Sandshrew disappears and a Zoroa snickers.

Someone plops down on the ground next to Steve, huffing softly when the Zoroa jumps into their lap. "So, is this some new training tactic I don't know about?" they ask.

When Steve looks up, he locks eyes with the boy he's met in passing outside the last two gyms. His hair is plastered to his face, and he seems to have no intention of picking up the umbrella he's abandoned to the side. "What?" Steve asks.

"This whole sitting in the rain thing," the boy says, waving one hand to gesture to the weather as his other rubs between Zoroa's ears. "I've heard of sitting under waterfalls, but this one is stumping me."

Without thinking, Steve blurts out, "I'm moping."

He blinks, feeling his face grow hot as he quickly looks away. It just gets worse when the guy snorts, the laughter piercing right through Steve's chest. It makes him think of his parents and the way they'd derisively laugh whenever he spoke about fighting gym leaders and traveling the region. His Ralts shifts in his lap, burying its head in his stomach as it picks up on his emotional shift.

"Hi, Moping," the boy says, "I'm Eddie."

Whatever Steve had been feeling comes to a screeching halt, his emotions nearly tripping over themselves as he processes what he just heard. When it finally clicks, his whips his head around to stare at the boy, Eddie, taking in his amused grin. "Did you just...make a dad joke?" he asks.

"Yep," Eddie says, making the 'p' sound pop. "Did it work?"

Surprisingly, yes. It was so abrupt that Steve suddenly feels that sitting here in the rain because he lost a gym battle is just absurd. "Yeah," he says, his voice soft.

Eddie grins wider, leaning closer and bumping their shoulders like they've been friends this whole time. "So, what's your name really, big boy?"

"Steve. My name is Steve." he says, getting a slight smile of his own. Then he realizes something and looks around them. The area is completely empty except for him, Eddie, and their Pokemon. Everyone else in Juniper Village is smart enough to stay inside when it's raining like this. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I saw this guy who usually looks very proud of himself just moping in the rain, so I figured I'd try to cheer him up a little out of the goodness of my heart."

"Really?" Steve asks, narrowing his eyes. "The goodness of your heart?" He wouldn't be surprised if it was less the goodness of Eddie's heart and more the prospect of getting acquainted with the heir to the Harrington TM/HM corporation.

"Okay, fine," Eddie says, holding his free hand up in surrender. Steve braces himself, trying to cut off any disappointment before it can be felt. "You just looked like such a pathetic little depressed Lillipup that I couldn't help approaching you."

Steve blinks again, utterly speechless as he stares at Eddie. After a few seconds, he finally manages to say, "I'm not a Lillipup."

"Really, Stevie?" Eddie asks, his tone and grin becoming amused, "That's the part of that sentence you got caught on?"

For some reason, that's what makes Steve crack. It starts slow, with a tiny smile, and eventually becomes breathless laughter as he leans back and nearly crushes his Riolu. It ducks out from behind Steve, sliding to sit next to his Dratini, and stares at him in utter confusion as he falls into the muddy grass behind him. Raindrops fall into his mouth and mud stains his clothes, but Steve doesn't care.

He hears Eddie fall onto his back as well and looks over to see his Zoroa circling his stomach before settling. Eddie grins at Steve, and they enjoy the rain together for a few more minutes before dashing to the nearest Pokemon Center to get dry.

#steddie #steddie fic #pokemon au #Master Ball Steddie #That's the name for this one bois #steddie fluff #steddie pokemon au #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #my writing