#best anon award goes to…

[aithusarosekiller]

have you read tmpl? it's really good!! /j

Pahaha anon I love you

Hmm 🤔

I don’t know if I have heard of that one

I might have to read it at some point

#/sarc #obviously #I laughed so much reading this ask #best anon award goes to… #YOU!

[hypaalicious]

hypaa what did you think of lonetrail? i've seen surprisingly negative opinions here but i personally loved it and agree with the people who say this is one of the best stories they've done!

Negative opinions??? IMO the only negative opinion that matters coming out of Lone Trail should be that Rhine Lab scientists are eugenics-loving amoral narcissists with god complexes!

But I’m kinda not surprised at the same time to hear this because sad to say, the perception of EN server players not ever reading for shit is true, so when they are forced to read blocks of text it’s always gonna skew negative I bet 😂

But yeah I’m totally with you there; it IS one of the best stories they’ve ever done. The amount of depth they were able to convey tying so many loose ends together deserves an award! I told some of my friends the other day that for the very first time ever the story was way more compelling than the limited banner LOL (cause let’s face it, it’s the most mid limited banner AK has done thus far; if MuMu wasn’t limited then I honestly would have skipped it entirely).

Silence is probably the only adult from Rhine Lab that I truly respect because she stood on her values from jump. Ifrit and Ptilopsis were victims. Saria didn’t truly have her coming to Jesus moment until Kristen’s shenanigans humbled her. Dorothy and Kristen both shoulda gone to therapy instead of abusing their power to ruin people’s lives for their own selfish gain. Both Parvis and Loken didn’t suffer enough for me tbh (even tho I respect Rosmontis’s way of handling the latter). It’s a beautiful tale of what happens when you place “progress” over people, personal growth, intrigue, politics… whew. HG ate with this story and they know it.

A part of me wishes that Arknights had the acclaim that other narrative-driven games do, but I know it’ll never happen because it’s mobile and also a tower defense game. It’s seriously underrated and Lone Trail proves it!

#I will be glad that it won that Hollywood Music in Media award though #HG is basically a music company using their games to hawk their tunes #and I’m not mad at it because it always goes hard! #you know the only other story I was impressed with was Originum Dust? #like I don’t care about or know shit about Rainbow 6 but that story was so well done #best collab event to date tbh #I look forward to see what else HG has in store for us lore-wise #arknights #lone trail #明日方舟 #anon ask

[bakugoushotwife]

Hallo! I don't follow you but I came here to ship, so even if I don't know you I'll do my best to do you justice relying solely on your vibes.

First, you're super pretty and you look like a fun person to have around, I don't really know but I'm assuming that you probably like to sign at the top of your lungs when you're out for a ride, and I think I ship you with Bakugo and Kuro.

With Katsuki because I feel like this would be a pretty case of "opposites attract" I don't have much of a reference to point out if you guys are similar or not, but you look like you actually enjoy romance and even if he's a super tsundere he's so soft when he's alone with you, he would probably scoff around about how "You're so needy and clingy" but as soon as you get your hands away from him pretending to be hurt, he would drag you back so fast that it would probably cause you whiplash, he would put you on his lap turning his head away so you can't see the blush dusting his pretty cheeks, if you giggle he would pretend to be mad and just shut you up with kisses, he would pretend to hate if you sing loudly in the car telling you how much you're distracting him but he has the softest look you can probably see the hearts inside his eyes, you bring that fun side out of him that he probably didn't let out while growing up, he enjoys every moment by your side and his favourite thing about you is how much you ignore his cold stares and harsh demeanour like it doesn't affect you, until you're scolding him for going too far on certain occasions, he would apologise softly under his breath and hold you, you are his favourite person (following close is Kirishima except when you guys band together to bother him). He loves you because you are there for him when the ghosts from the past come back to haunt him, holding him close, sometimes in silence, you never judge him and that helps him to be vulnerable with you, when you need advice he would give you the most objective point of view he never lets his feelings for you get in the way when you need a solid opinion because he loves you too much and just wants the best for you, sometimes he sounds mean but that's just the way he is, he would tell you "that's the dumbest thing you have ever done, that's why you need to correct this and that" and if you get sad or mad he would say "Hey, you know I love you, you know what you did or said is wrong and you need to change that" as you can see you give balance to each other lives. (Also you are his only exception so expect a ring at some point in your relationship)

For Aesthetics: Warm summer nights, movie dates, driving around at midnight, make-out sessions in the car, the colour red, 80's photo filters, the flavour of soda, spicy candy, running in the beach.

Music: Kiss Me More by Doja Cat ft SZA , Underneath your Clothes by Shakira, Love Me Like You Do by Ellie Goulding, Unconditionally by Katy Perry, Still Into You by Paramore, Positions by Ariana Grande.

Now, Kuro, he's a super tall boi (that's a given) closeted nerd who likes to play it cool, he loves to tease you but he's also super needy and clingy, you probably met one day while you were running errands, one of those meetings that happen once every century because he saw you passing by, pretty normal at first, but two hours later and he saw you again, he ignored that, until it happened again 30 minutes later, well now you have his full attention because oh this could be interesting, you happen to be In the same store shopping for something you need, and what is this, oh you like that snack? It happens to be his favourite too, what a coincidence want his number? Your first impression is that he's tall with a pretty voice and a teasing smile, and also a head full of bed hair, but he's adorable when he's trying to talk to you because he is literally TRYING not to stumble over his own words, so you smile, save his number, give him your name and say your goodbyes with the promise to talk again and talk again you did, no wonder you guys got together you're so fun to be around, always matching each other's energy, always up for an adventure, and when he's having a bad day you hold him close to you, play with his hair and he's on his knees for you because how can you be so sweet and so hot at the same time, isn't he lucky? He thinks you're perfect for him, you are a goddess he wants to worship for the rest of his life, he thought he wasn't up for commitments but if you're going to look at him that way with soft eyes and sweet good mornings every day, well now he's buying a ring, you guys bring the best and the worst out of each other in the best possible way, oh are you laughing at him because he's having the worst case of bed hair ever? Expect him to tease you for something 10 times harder, but who would have thought that this man the size of a tree would be reduced to a baby boy when he's in your arms? And every time you have a bad day he would be there to hug you "Baby there's not 'I'm down" here, we are in this together, so together we get sad and together we get better" you would probably laugh a little "Babe NO , I don't want you to be sad too" and he would laugh and tell you that's exactly how he feels about you, so prepare to get pampered and covered in kisses and cuddles until you feel better. (According to him Your needs always come first, so if you're feeling horny, he's about to spend hours just to keep you pleasured and content)

Aesthetic: Records Stores, Concerts, summer evenings, oversized hoodies, study dates, silver rings and necklaces, fresh fruit, stolen kisses.

Music: Paper Rings and Lover by Taylor Swift, Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney (pre-relationship) Someone Like You by Ariana Grande, Green Tea and Honey by Dane Amar and Jereena Montemayor (for established relationship)

I hope I did you some justice and that at least I made you smile a little 💖💖

you made my day???????

i was grinning like a fool????

aesthetics and songs and WOW YOU PUT YOUR WHOLE HEART INTO THIS IM SOBBIN

I hope you do end up following if you like some of my content bc you seem so sweet and i love doing ships too 😭✊🏻

i’m literally still grinning omg me and my BOYSSSSS kysuki so real

#kysuki so real #the queen’s ruling #kylee’s subjects #the best anon award goes to

[daydadahlias]

okay but you have to admit calum some pretty nice hands too like second place

I think all of 5sos have absolutely gorgeous wonderful hands 🥰 but I like Ashton’s the mostest

#if I were ranking 5sos hands it goes #Ashton Calum Luke Michael #I just love Ashton’s hand freckles 🥺 #and how clean and well manicured his nails are 😩 #and his hitchhikers thumbbbbbbbb #and how BIG they are!!!!!!! #his hands are so HUGE!!!!!!!!!!! #they’re flawless #perfect hands #no complaints #best hands ever award goes to #pigeon #anon

[decomposedfairy]

Woah woah nit once you have look like a trash pls stop you babe as fuck

"you babe as fuck" i fucking love you

#best anon award goes to this one

[sexlapis]

hi stella! so i remember rachel mcadams and ryan gosling winning “best kiss” at an award show bc of the notebook and when they go up stage they recreate that kiss ….. so what about actor toji and reader doing it???

OMG?? anon your mind?????????????????!!!!!!

this is the kiss btw !!!!

‘BEST KISS’

౨ৎ actor toji x actress/actor reader

kissing! kissing! kissing!

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

౨ৎ

the romance film you and toji starred in exceeded everyone’s already high expectations. it became the best performing romance film of the year and one of the most successful films of that same year, period.

but was anyone surprised? not really.

people loved you. people loved toji. people loved you and toji. people loved you and toji together, especially when you were both kissing and fucking in an intense, angsty, emotional-rollercoaster of a romance film.

the public all had their speculations and assumptions about whether you and toji were really together or not, but tonight, after this award show? this very moment erased any doubts in their minds.

it was time to announce the nominees for the (only) category you and toji were nominated for, ‘Best Kiss’.

you turn around and look at toji who is seated behind you and grin toothily at him, giving small claps. he smirks, giving you a sleazy wink.

when the exaggerated, deep voice booms from the speakers, announcing you and toji as nominees and displaying the kiss scene on the vast plasma screen, the crowd grows crazy, chaotic almost - they’re screaming like they’re fucking dying. and that’s when you and toji both know you’ve got this in the bag.

you almost feel bad for the other nominees and at how the crowd essentially goes quiet at their scenes. oh well.

shoko and gojo are there to announce the winners.

“and the ‘best kiss’ goes to…” shoko trails off, building anticipation as gojo opens the card that states the award winner.

“ha! someone’s that’s gonna be cleaning up tonight.” gojo laughs “..toji fushiguro and _____!”

the audience began to shriek before they even got through toji’s whole name.

you and toji look at each other and smile, knowingly. knowing the shit you were both about to cause with what you’re about to do.

standing up languidly, toji places a hand on your back as you two stroll right up to the stage, the crowd deafening you at this point.

the steps lead to a double path in the stage and you and toji part ways temporarily, walking around to be opposite each other.

you unbutton your cardigan and let it drop to the floor, hearing whistles and cheers in the pools of crowds next to you, reaching their hands out and screaming your name.

toji begins fake stretching, jumping up and down like he is about to exercise and you giggle at his antics before making a serious face, gazing at him in mock seduction.

he begins striding towards you across the length of the stage, making a ‘come here’ with a long, thick fingers. and you’re like a magnet, rushing towards him, the audience rising in volume as you two grow closer together.

and then you’re jumping up on him, wrapping your legs around his waist as his roughly smashes his lips onto yours and shoves his tongue into your mouth. you accept it, gleeful with his actions, knowing that people will not stop talking about this moment for weeks.

your hands are tugging at his hair and his large hands cup your ass as you both make the fuck out in front of sea of people, who are now louder than you even thought was possible.

toji bites your bottom lip, sucking gently, before finally pulling away from a kiss that lasted what felt like an eternity.

realising what has just transpired, even though you both planned this, you feel embarrassed. you cover you hot face as toji carried you to the podium, your ears ringing from the nonstop echo of the crowds cheers, jeers, whistles and screams.

toji sets you down on your feet and urges you to speak in the microphone. you huff and puff, not really wanting to talk after that…stunt you just pulled.

“toji!” you growl. “get up here!”

“alright, alright..” toji sighs, picking up the trophy of popcorn and holding it up. “i would just like to say…that it was my pleasure.”

his words make the fans go insane again, some members demanding an encore of that steamy kiss.

sighing, you take you trophy and toji places a sweet kiss on your temple. you both walk away side by side, leaving the chaos of the crowd behind as you go to walk backstage. toji reaches down and swings your fallen cardigan over his shoulder, smiling, clearly smug and satisfied with himself.

he looks down at you and you blink up at him, biting the inside of your cheek. you take in his tight, black top, shamelessly staring at his pecs and thick neck as you walk.

toji notices. and when you look him in the eye again, he winks.

a/n: anon what if i diedddd!!!!😩😩😩😩

#📫.toji #was gnna go to sleep but nah i had to do this #anon ily kisses ur brain #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji crack #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n

[pshaven]

hii I’m back 😋 jake has been bias wrecking me so bad lately. can I request makeup artist!reader practicing a new makeup look on him at home for enha’s comeback? he’s being a lil perv and ogling at her curves :,) it can lead to more if you like idc, you take the wheel!

💫 - thank you <3

anon i love you

cw! oral (m receiving), pervy jake, RAMBLY JAKE RAHHH

“are you sure you don’t have any scheduling today?” you ask jake as you prep your makeup on the table in front of the mirror, your back facing the boy in his designated chair. you learned some new tricks from another makeup artist a week ago, but had no one to practice on other than your mannequin but you desperately wanted to try it on a real person. 

“of course i don’t, or else i wouldn’t be here right now. my manager would be getting on my ass right now if i had skipped anything,” jake chuckles, watching you fondle and organize all your products in a neat order. you sigh before turning around, your hands reaching for his face as you cup his jaw, maneuvering his head around to get a good look at the lighting in the room. 

“thanks for doing this again, jake,” you say for the nth time since he walked into the room. he smiles as he lets you move his face around, “of course. i gave you my number for a reason, so you can call or text me whenever you need something.” you bite the inside of your cheek at his words, your hands leaving a lingering touch on his jaw before you fully turn around to grab some products to get to work. 

you can’t say being flirted with by jake of all idols you’ve worked with is the worst thing, because it isn’t. the only bad thing is that it’s hard to not reciprocate it, especially when he makes it so easy with the pretty boy face of his. 

but you underestimate jake, with you being blissfully unaware at the way he is shamelessly ogling your ass through your tight jean shorts that have him sucking in a breath. he’s thankful he wore loose sweats today, feeling his lower abdomen swirl with arousal especially when you cupped his face earlier. 

you quickly get to work on him, your non dominant hand cupping his jaw as you focus on his eye makeup. he’s doing his best to be subtle, he swears he is! but you make it so hard, your tits basically hovering by his face, just asking for him to suck sweetly on them. he’s extra fidgety today, much to your naiveness so you grip his jaw a bit tighter, thumb digging into the side of his cheek slightly that causes his lips to purse together. 

“stay still,” you mumble with a smile on your face, eyes still trained on his own to focus the shadow on the outer corner. he gives you a boyish grin, his hands surprising you when they touch your waist. 

“then you should tie me down,” he muses, expecting you to react like you always do— caught off guard and surprised as if he doesn’t hint anything suggestive when given the chance. 

but you open your mouth before thinking, too consumed with getting this new technique down on him. “didn’t know you were into kinky shit like that,” you snicker. now jake is caught off guard, his mouth goes slightly agape despite your hold on his jaw. you furrow your brows before shutting his mouth for him, your index finger tapping the side of his cheek. “now be a good boy ‘n shut up for me, okay?” 

what was his half hard cock in his sweats is now fully rock hard, the fingers on your waist twitching a bit from your words. you’ve always been good at ignoring his flirtatious attempts whenever you would do his makeup before performance and award shows. he would’ve gotten you alone sooner if he knew you would start acting up like this. 

you smile satisfyingly when the chatty boy in front of you finally shuts up, letting you work on his eyeliner in peace. “oh shit, sorry—“ you apologize when you drop one of your brushes from his hands and onto his lap, you immediately reaching for it without looking. your apology falls short when your hand brushes over something… particularly stiff that is way bigger than a makeup brush. 

his eyes meet yours sheepishly, your own darting back and forth between his lap and his face. but jake doesn’t apologize. why should he? you’re the one who got him like this in the first place, and he likes the saying don’t start what you can’t finish. 

like what you said earlier. it’s hard to say no to jake, with his stupidly handsome face, so how can you say no when he asks you to help him out? in the confines of your small makeup room, you’re in between his thighs on your knees, heavy cock in your hand while jake’s chest is heaving up and down. 

“spit on it,” he tells you, but with his hissed tone it’s more of a demand. you do what he says, straightening your back to hover over his cock and letting your drool drip down messily onto his length. “my god, you’re so hot. you have no idea—“ he gets cut off with a gasp when your mouth envelopes him, a sigh leaving your lips in doing so. 

he lost his words, his head thrown back as he throws his free arm over his mouth to muffle his moans. “y-y’know… every time you do my makeup- hahh- i get hard just thinking about you like this… down on your knees, taking my c-cock in your mouth,” he rambles, hips occasionally lifting off the chair as he gently thrusts. 

“i-i love it whenever you- um—“ he hisses when you go even deeper, letting your tongue run down the underside of his cock. “fuck! oh shhiit. l-love it when you do my l-lips… just wanna kiss you everytime- ah!” his moans get louder each time your throat contracts around him. the noises that leave his lips only encourage you more, his rambly praises leading you to reach your free hand down your thighs, rubbing your neglected clit. 

“you enjoying it that much?” he groans, catching a glimpse of your hand reaching down. “shit, if i knew you were like this i would’ve gotten you alone much sooner,” he mutters, entangling his hand in your hair and pulling you off his cock. you whine in protest, a thin string of spit connecting your lips with his cock still.

“awh-” he coos in fake sympathy, his hand that was in your hair now cupping your cheek as his thumb swipes around your lips in a weak attempt to clean up your messy spit. “don’t worry, next time you can spend all day sucking on my cock.. but now, let me see how wet that sloppy cunt is for me.” 

#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen #jake x reader #jaeyun x reader #jake smut #jaeyun smut #enhypen jake smut #enhypen jake #enhypen fanfic #sim jake #sim jaeyun

[cillivnz]

Hi 👋 I see you write for Lord Dimitrescu (miss a spot, hit the spot was brilliant and I would devour more) and I saw that you are taking requests, what do you think about monster hunter!reader x Lord Dimitrescu? You can take this in whichever direction you like best, but I do have a prompt idea!

Lord Dimitrescu and his sons find a trespasser on their land and Dimitrescu takes her in as his guest/prisoner thinking that she is a clueless lost traveler, not knowing that she's a hunter willing to get close to him by any means necessary, even if it means seducing a monster. Gaining access to his infamous library full of books on how to kill every monster known to man is just the first step, what she really wants is to find out the family's weaknesses and get lord Dimitrescu to let his guard down enough for her to kill him and every last member of his twisted family. Or at least that was the plan...

I just love villain gets the girl/ corruption stories and the idea of someone rolling up into that castle with every intention of wiping out the evil that lives there, but getting seduced instead... 😍😍😍

Love your work!!!

façade of seduction [lord dimitrescu]

PAIRING — LORD DIMITRESCU x MONSTER HUNTER!READER

WORD COUNT — 12.6k+ (i’m so sorry, it’s for the plot!)

WARNINGS — SMUT. eighteen+. AFAB!reader, dark arts, necromancy, the supernatural, mentions of murders, beheadings, cannibalism, vampirism, extremely dubious consent, cursing, extreme gore (blood, cuts, stabbing, mass murder, executions, etc.), reader uses seduction as a tactic, death of family, size kink, age-gap, degradation, pet-names, mentions as well as performed oral sex (talk of male!receiving, performed cunnilingus), fingering, female masturbation, mentions of male masturbation, unprotected penetrative sex, weird & unspecific AU, creampie, cum-eating, breast/nipple play, clit stimulation, extreme descriptions (?), kinda sorta brat-taming.

A/N — whoa, baby! she’s done! firstly, let me just shower this anon with kisses for trusting me such an amazing prompt! thank you, you beautiful soul. i had a blast writing this, and i’m sorry i couldn’t finish it sooner :’( you’re a literal genius, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this, and thank you for the kind words! secondly,

i tried incorporating as much lore from the game as i could, majority of the plot is my own fictional work, and the rest [credited to the game] may have been tampered with to suit the plot of this fiction.

Lady Elvira Natalia Stoica is an original character — INCLUSIVE OF ETHNICITY, RACE, COLOUR, BODY TYPE, etc. the only definite characteristic she has is that she is reader’s doppelgänger with an identical appearance, and that her family is of the same origin as The Dimitrescus (Romanian).

Alcina Dimitrescu’s gender-bent version is named Alcides Dimitrescu in my fiction. the credit of his sons’ names goes to @angel-hawthorne ’s comment under this post.

there’s some deliberate references to my other Lord Dimitrescu fiction. read it HERE!

NOTES [excuse inaccurate translations]

"Idiotilor! Așa ne tratezi oaspetele?" : You idiots! Is this how you treat our guest?

"Oaspete? Dar ea—" : Guest? But she—

"Scuzați-vă." : Excuse yourselves.

căprița mea mică : my little doe

cameristă : maid

Pentru dumnezeu! : good god/for god’s sake!

𝓗unters.

Your father before you, and his before him. Monsters, demons, deities; anything of supernatural order, possessing paranormal traits needed to be laid down, and your family was bestowed with the responsibility to do so. They told you, you were god-gifted; possessing an astounding memory. It was as if you soaked in every word you read in journals rich in paranormal history, and carved every word into your brain with your own hand.

Those ungodly creatures fumed at the audacity of a mortal family killing the abysmal aristocracies in the name of slaughtering abominations.

How proudly you awarded yourselves the title of Vânători de urâciuni — Hunters of Abominations. Soon enough, though, the leaders of the Four Houses knew a lesson needed be taught, example be set; actions have consequences, and after all, you were mere mortals. Audacious, dangerous mortals.

The last of the Four Houses needed to be hunted down. Your father, your uncle, your brother managed to wipe out the other key members, before it was about time the reaper caught up to them. Weeks, months went by in weeping for them, never letting their caskets dry, but it was about time you stopped mourning. This isn't what you were raised to do — whom you were raised to be. There was no way in hell you'd let the last Family standing think that the danger was over, not when you found out that it was on their cue, their command, that the guillotine that slashed through your family's head held high, became the inevitable demise of the men of Vânători de urâciuni.

'Fuckers even had the audacity to send the heads back, all nice and packaged, and signed. It was then, you realised, the weight of your name's responsibility lies on your shoulders, now. Mother was too deep in the waters of depression, perhaps, vengeance would serve as her lifeguard, and you sought to get it. For her sake, and yours.

Packing the the remnant of your belongings, primarily, lore on whatever mutation resembled that of what you've heard the family to be; barbaric, and vampiric, you set voyage to Castle Dimitrescu, the Lord's stronghold within the vicinity of a titular Eastern European village; Romania, in other geographical terms.

After weeks on foot, travelling from place to place and squeezing in some good o'l slash-and-dash of monsters into your quest, you reached the abysmal castle. The oppressive aura surrounding The Dimitrescus' colossal abode could be felt miles away from its actual foundations, the monotonous venus blue atmosphere, the trees that have been decayed for decades, peering into your periphery, mortifying the sight of Castle Dimitrescu, even more. You shake off a shiver, determined strides leading you forward. An ominous forest welcomed you, seemingly, the flora responded to every step you took on the onyx soil; you were not too far from the gigantic gates of the castle, deciding to take a breather and assess just what you were dragging yourself into, the massive mountainous foliage providing a safe haven, temporarily.

Rummaging through the contents, page after page, you landed on Wendigo. You knew your ancestors categorised mutations in the same category as a Wendigo, it being the severest form of inhumanity; the mutated man would resort to cannibalism, still humanoid — tall and pale with elongated limbs and pale yellow eyes. If the Dimitrescus were anything like a typical mutated Wendigo, you hadn't thought this through. Then, you remembered your brother's journal.

He was vague with words, often scribbling up a précise at the end of a hunt. Too consumed by your tears, you initially forgot about it, until you realised halfway through your voyage that your mother packed his journal for you, and some documentations recorded by your father and your uncle in their youth, though, you highly doubted you'd be coming across an extinct creature.

There it was — the last page of his journal — the twenty-seventh page to be precise, with triple the pages still empty; clean slates like a reminder of his unlived life, the life that was taken away from him.

You smiled fondly at his handwriting, letting your fingertips trace the scribbles, how deeply the quill was engraved into the paper. You remember laughing at his handwriting, growing up, how your mother would ask him to get a doctorate to match his stereotypical physician's handwriting, but this is all he knew — all you knew. Hunting was your profession, your life and lifestyle, and now, inevitably, your demise, too. You began reading, as I said, your older brother, a master at scribbling précise.

You were unsure, however, when he'd got the time to write down about The Dimitrescus, having never come face-to-face with the tyrants. It seemed your brother's first guess, too, was 'Wendigo', which he scratched down, only to pen it down again, bigger and emphasised, once he enlisted 'Cannibalisme'.

Your heart sank at the etchings.

Even for someone like him, these were too cynical, like he were losing his mind at the mere thought of them: 'one LORD — THREE SONS', it read. 'Blood disease??', 'PARASITE??', 'VAMPIRISM'? That would mean— "Oh." You stood corrected when just below the analysis was a remark, "NO WEAKNESS TO SUN OR WEATHER". Sometimes you swore you and him had the same braincells, always jumping to the same conclusions, which only made the desire to avenge him overpowering.

Your eyes traveled to the end of the page, the last of ink spilled on the worn out pages of your brother's journal, 'NEOPAGAN CULT', 'BLACK GOD'. With widened eyes, and a sinister feeling you couldn't yet shake away, your eyes dart to the next, last page.

There was a symbol maniacally delineated, labelled as the same reports on the previous page. 'NEOPAGAN CULT SYMBOL', and at the bottom of the page, the last thing your brother ever did write was, 'THE CULT OF THE BLACK GOD'. You subconsciously traced the diagram, only to see the graphite taint your fingertips. Your mind was racing two hundred miles per hour, trying to put the pieces of a fatally intricate puzzle together. Your brother's journal, the last of the contents were mere observations, unlike the rest of the pages that are filled with methods of executing generations of monsters.

But for The Dimitrescus, the fact that 'most powerful family' was written with emphasis only made you scowl. You searched frantically in your bag for the journals of your father, your uncle; anything that spoke more about this parasite and the said Black God.

Glancing back at the foot of the palace, you had to do a double take when you saw the guards leave the premises, bread and wine in hand. Their chuckles could be sound from the heart of the forest, even though they repeatedly 'shushed' one another, saying "the Lord" would put their "heads on a stick".

You take their departure as your cue and pace quietly towards the castle. You stood face to face with the colossal gates, doing your level best to push them open, just enough to sneak in, but the big dumb fuckers wouldn't budge. Scoffing, as fate would have it in your luck, you began scanning the perimeter for any safe way in, otherwise, you sure as hell knew how to make an entry.

"Ain't no fucking way," you'd pretty much lost all hope, not realising when your brother wrote down, "tall", it included the infrastructure, too. It was then your eyes noticed one particular stone brick placed slightly outward, and the one above it, and then the one above it, outward enough for you to step on, up, and grip the grotesque grill, securing the premises from people exactly like you.

The first step up was easy, the stone steady enough to carry you, or so you thought for when the second you stepped onto the next one, the one below fell to the ground, shattering to bits. You eyed the stone your foot was on currently, leaping when realisation hit you. By the time you rock-climbed your ass up to the top, the whole way up had crumbled down. You gripped the gothic grill, not taking the maker of it to be a sadist, for it sliced the flesh of your palm even through the slightest contact. You winced, looking back at the broken rocks, perhaps, a good omen; no one would suspect you climbed up the wall, now.

Crossing the grill, you jumped down as silently as a human could, looking back at your newfound enemy, the grill, only for it to be leaking with crimson. You groaned at the sight of your blood, thinking you were better than this, letting some metal get the best of you, but the immense pain from the cut made your head a little dizzy. Shaking the odd feel off, you proceeded leftward, walking further in to be greeted by what seemed to be a courtyard.

No servants, chamberlain nor staff was seen out and about, quite contrary to what one would expect from the functioning of a castle this mighty. Though the odds were in your favour, it didn't seem so; it's quiet, too quiet. Nothing other than a raven's screech and the flap of the wings of a murder of crows was heard for miles. Your steps had quickened at the sight of a door, finally leading you inside. As you inspected it, you sensed a magical aura around it; you could use a spell to crack it open, but that would cause bring attention you did not need at the moment. So, you pull a pin from your hair and apply the cheapskate thief method, and lo and behold, you were in.

Fuck yeah.

Closing the bulky door as silently behind you as you could, you were slammed right back into it, while what felt to be a talon instead of a hand wrapped around the back of your throat. "Well, well, what do we have here?" Said an anonymous voice, cuing laughter from two more.

Fuck, no.

The last thing you remember was a pair of hands squeezing your waist, one choking you, while one hand ghosted over your face, causing a wave of unconsciousness to pass over you.

Chained; you groaned, a pounding ache ringing in your head like an alarm, your eyes blinked, close to a hundred times to get accustomed to your dark, unfamiliar surroundings, while your nose burned with the stench of— burning bodies?

You lifted your head to see three tall figures illuminated by the feeble attempts of a torch. "Alas, sleeping beauty wakes." You heard one taunt, a raspy baritone to his voice, "No fun — I prefer them unconscious," said another with a similar tone. "Well, you're no fun if you don't like to watch the fear in their eyes when they beg you for their life," said the third. The conversation flowed more amongst themselves, quite rude to not have included the meat of the matter — you, but what more could you expect from The Dimitrescu Boys? Oh, you were sure it was them. 'One lord — three sons', you remembered, and no odds suggested they were servants or guards. Not with the way expensive jewels embellished their stallion necks not-so-subtly, like an all-time reminder of their aristocratic status. 'Pathetic,' you thought, it seems no matter the day or age, the breed of "daddy's money" remains as obnoxious as ever.

While they bickered amongst themselves, you took the time to take in their appearances: Handsome, irrelevant. Tall, but no more than an average case of gigantism in most villages. Yellow eyes, but not humanoid — no, fully, thoroughly (so it seems) human. Could this be another variety? Hybrids, perhaps, since Vampirism was in the books of possibility. That could explain their immunity to weather conditions. Their facial features became vivid all of a sudden, and you noticed the blood smeared all over their faces. Paying heed to your iniquity, perhaps even irked expression, the boys smirked devilishly; not charming, dangerously, Lucifer-ishly, but satanically. You weren't into the lighter side of magic like your mother, only using it grotesquely, but you knew aura-reading, even envisioning, like the back of your hand, and theirs was sinister: an abysmal shade of black surrounding them, with occultism dancing between their physical forms in the fiery colour of hellish hues.

"Tell us, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" One questioned, "Hm, never seen one so beautiful." "Is she even real — ethereal." "Makes me almost not want to eat her." Your eyes widened at the last remark, "Eat her in a different way, I'd definitely." Their shark-like smiles grew wider, subconsciously causing you to back away from them while they inched closer, ready to pounce on you and relish your beauty. "What do you have there, boys?" Asked the deepest voice you'd ever heard, from the other side of what you now realised was the dungeon. You were taken aback at the intrusion, silently thanking your saviour, even if it were the man himself — Lord Alcides Dimitrescu, head of Familia Dimitrescu.

His sons scattered immediately, letting their father rest his eyes upon you. "Food, father," one spoke eagerly, as if trying to impress his old man. "We saw her trespassing in the courtyard, and then she came inside." Spoke the other. "You could have her," said another, "If you save us a taste." Your face lost its colour when a ice-cold hand wrapped itself around your throat, yanking you up with one lift, and throwing you towards the bars between you and the mammoth Lord. His devilish expression— softened? "Elvira!" He exclaimed softly, reaching for your face, but the second his hand tried to snake past the bar, he winced in contact, the metal bar hissing with effervescence. Weakness?

"Idiotilor! Așa ne tratezi oaspetele?" The man was fuming: a flabbergasted expression on the said idiots' faces. "Oaspete? Dar ea—" "She can do as she pleases in my home." The man spat venom like thunder, his hateful expression turned to apologetic and caring in the blink of an eye when he turned to you. "Let her out this very instant." He glared at his sons one last time before turning away and saying, "The longer you wait, the more severe will be the outcomes."

So you were rushed out the dungeon and sent to the guesthouse.

The chamberlain had been waiting for you there at the direct orders of her master. "Lady Stoica, We're truly very sorry for the inconveniences caused to you. The Lord gifts you these gowns as his sincerest apology. He'd love for you to join him for supper once you have freshened up. Step out of your chambers, when you're done, and I'll be happy to take you there." You didn't acknowledge her, only awaited her leave so you could examine the gowns she had motioned towards while babbling courtesies you didn't give a fuck about. It'll definitely take more than four gowns to earn forgiveness for the treatment meted out to you down in the dungeons, but you wanted to give the tyrant lord a little bit of credit, for the gowns were stunning.

As you took in the details of each cloth, you came upon a note, which read: Sweetest Elvira,

Forgive my imbecile progeny, if you think they are worth it, but let us celebrate your presence, still, in my abode. Would you be so kind to accept my invitation for dinner? I have long yearned your company since the last time Lord and Lady Stoica visited.

Hoping to have you with me,

Alcides Dimitrescu.

Your blood boiled at his handwriting. It was the same intricate, royally cursive writing that signed the parcel of your family's heads.

You headed into the bath with murder on your mind; no matter how many times you'd sink into the warm waters, the heat only aggravated your fuming self. It was rosewater, the scent made your mind trail back to days of yore: when your mother would set up baths like this for you, the sweet scent of herbs and nature's warmth filled your hateful mind with nostalgia, then worry. Your mother had the most fight in her, no doubt about that, but that didn't mean she resorted to it easily; always seeing the best in people, giving them countless chances to repent. A generous, godly trait, but fatal in a world dominated by people like the man you were to meet with for dinner— supper, or whatever. You were just glad you weren't being served as the main course.

For now.

As you dried yourself up, your mind replayed the conversations, the characteristics and behaviours of the family. How he called you, 'Elvira'. Yes, Lady Elvira Natalia of Familia Stoica, another noble household your family put an end to. The irony lay in her appearance: the two of you looked alike — no, identical. Perhaps minor attributes set the difference between you two, or the fact that you put a bullet between her eyes — eyes just like yours; it was the reason why the Vânători de urâciuni men hesitated to kill her — sister, daughter, and niece. Not you, never had you hesitated. It's what set you apart in a man's world. If a woman's emotions got the best of her, than lucky for you and unfortunate for the whole world, the only feelings coursing through your mind like the blood in your veins were bloodlust. Blood and Lust, as your mind trailed back to Lord Dimitrescu—

Alcides fuckin' Dimitrescu.

He was tall, so tall, he had to crouch to an uncomfortable extent just to get a proper look at your frame through the dungeon bars. His raven locs and beard: neat as a lord, rugged like a pirate; his sharp nose, his thick, furrowed brows, his luscious lips and those eyes. Those fucking amber eyes, captivating, devouring you like a fox after literal meat. Their hue was as fluorescent as a Wendigo's, then how was he not like one? How is he so devilishly handsome?

Stuck in a limbo, half- hypnotised with hazy memories of the Lord, memories you were yet to make with him, you were left enchanted; like he had cast a spell on yo— "Holy fuck." That's it. It's the only logical reason behind such profound emotions. He had cast a spell on you. It could've easily been the waters, you had bathed in them, let the rose waters soak every inch of your skin. Or worse, his eyes? You had definitely not been that out of it to imagine them glowing in the dark, but if he truly practised necromancy at such a profound level that a mere look in your direction left you enamoured, then you had to come up with a plan, and come up with a plan fucking fast.

Despite your certainty that the only way you'd feel something so unlikely for a man who was responsible for the death of family, was via nécromancies, you still had to be sure. So, you performed an indication ritual. In a vessel, you stored the possible method of enchantment — the bath water — along with the blood of the enchanted. You prick your finger deep enough to get ample beads of crimson out, letting them drop into the vessel. Now, if by dawn, the contents of the vessel turn potently black, your suspicions are true, and the tyrant Alcides, indeed, cast a spell on you, but if it were to remain colourless, than the worst of your concerns has arisen, for you'd have willingly let lust overpower the balance of bloodlust in the weigh of your emotions.

Placing the vessel underneath your bed, you begin dressing. The odds were too ironic not to choose the rose coloured gown for the evening, so you wore it, feeling condemned to. Fixing whatever you deemed necessary, you stepped out of your room to find the chamberlain stationed exactly where she said she'd be.

Her breath hitched a little, eyes widening as she saw you turn towards her, "You look beautiful, Miss Stoica," was her way of seeing 'you clean up pretty nice for a dirty mess in the dungeons', but you paid no heed, letting the woman escort you.

The walk to the Lord's dining area was awkward, and fearful for the servant. There was no denying you resembled the heiress of one of the Seven Royal Families, but you hadn't thought your own victim's identity would play as your decoy in your most fatal mission.

You didn't blame them, you were dumbfounded at the striking resemblance, yourself.

The hair, the skin, the features; it was without a doubt you killed your doppelgänger that day, and though you were never one to follow rituals of lore, it says, 'the slaughtering of one's self' — a doppelgänger — 'is the greatest sign of one's power and control', so it was no wonder since then you had long been feared in every corner of Eastern Europe, but you never earned notoriety, nor make a fuss over the death of The Stoicas, which is why everyone in Castle Dimitrescu believes you to be her, for they think she is what you are; alive.

"We've arrived, madam. If you need me, please don't hesitate to call." She gave you a knowing look, one of empathy? Weird. Interestingly weird. You only nodded, before pushing the glass doors open, and letting yourself in.

Alcides sat with the three of his sons, you'd heard him call them Boian, Cătălin, and Dorin, not knowing which one is which, but you doubt names matter when their death's are destined by your hands. As if sensing you, something you'd mentally categorise among his vampiric characteristics, his head shot up from his sons and immediately those amber eyes were on you, ripping through your dress, eating you alive. His lifeless skin flushed at the sight of you, wet hair clinging to your frame so perfectly, he could smell the shampoo from here. How tightly the dress hugged your curves, how accentuated the rose colour of the gown made your ethereal body. Your plump, pouty lips were rosy like the gown, an even prettier colour, the sudden blush that dared to creep on your face, your determined brows raised a little at the shameless attention you were receiving, your big, radiant doe eyes widening, pupils dilating, and your long lashes batting at his direction.

"Elvira." He rose from his seats, as did his sons, heads snapping right at you to shamelessly ogle at you. On seeing that the look of disgust on your face was directed towards his sons, he shot them a fuming glare, causing them to nod an apology and immediately be seated again.

"Thank you for joining me." He said, softly, awaiting you. You moved closer, deciding to be seated beside the lord, across from his sons. "How have you been, my dear?" His hand found yours, yours minuscule in his clasp. "I had been fine, until certain miscreants accused me of trespassing."

You shot the three culprits a glare, and rightly so. Alcides eyed his sons, clearing his throat obviously when his sons remained oblivious to his cryptic signs.

"We're, uh," began one, "We're sorry, Madam Stoica," continued the other, "We didn't mean for any of that to happen, we just wanted to scare what appeared to be an uninvited guest at the time." "Had we known it was you... well, let's just say your welcome would've been different. Mostly." Finished the last, and your mind immediately caught on to the insinuation:

"Eat her in a different way, I'd definitely."

You could see the man's blood boil beside you, "Scuzați-vă." He growled, and you caught a glimpse of just how much fear he's instilled into his children, for they immediately excused themselves from the table and left with hurried steps.

"Pardon them, I don't know where I went wrong in raising them." He sighed once they were out of sight, rubbing the bridge of his nose. You've never been one to sympathise with an enemy, but maybe sympathy isn't what'll lead to his slaughter; seduction is.

You wordlessly place a hand atop his, earning a soft gasp from him. His eyes searched your face, and when you couldn't help but give him a small smile, he grinned; from ear to ear, letting his pearly fangs rise from their pillowy coverings, his lips, which he soon had to bite to control his giddiness. "Oh, Elvira," his voice was soft, a mere yearn lingering in the warmth of the room. Had it been this hot since you stepped in, or had the flush of your cheeks been indicating otherwise? "You're so beautiful." His other hand tucked the stray strand of hair falling onto your face, behind your ear. You felt a tinge of bitterness brewing in you, whatever relationship was established between Alcides and Elvira, it sure was on the better side of the spectrum.

Were you really feeling jealous of your dead doppelgänger? Well, from the way he looked at you— her — right now, you'd say he wouldn't take to her murder too kindly.

"I swear, you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you." You blushed, so he enjoyed the new-and-improved Elvira more. "Yet you stay ever handsome." NO. You didn't mean for it to slip, you didn't mean it, you didn't think it — yet, you said it, and he fucking relished in it.

To save you from your embarrassment, your newfound guardian angels, the chef and other servants, brought in food of all sorts. Albeit the sheer hatred you felt towards them, you couldn't help but ask Alcides about his sons. "Aren't you sweet?" He looked at you with fondness, before answering, "The servants will bring them food to their quarters."

Fair enough.

You proceeded eating without another word or glance in his direction. Upon finishing the scrumptious meal, you waited for Alcides to take the lead.

Men like him relished in power, authority, and since he was born into it with a silver spoon hanging from his mouth, it was the only thing he knew.

He looked at you for several moments, an unreadable expression on his face making you more conscious than repelled, as if you craved the validation of his eyes.

He rose from his seat, one hand lingering in the air, an invitation for you to clasp it, while the other grabbed a hefty cluster of grapes by the stem. "Walk with me, darling."

He had to look painfully low to even see your head, once you rose to your height, it helped, but little aid was provided to the giant standing at 9'6.

You held his hand, the sheer size difference had you squirming in your steps.

Just imagine how beautiful sex would be with him, you wouldn't even be able to fit him— "Fuck," you whined under your breath, making damn sure your voice wasn't audible to Mount Everest beside you.

This was the spell talking — thinking; it's got to be. You withdrew your hand, pretending to fix the blouse of the dress, earning a glance from the Lord in your direction, which only stayed for a moment before the calming silence between the two of you was the only thing you could see, until he halted, pulling your attention back to him. "Fruit, my dear?" He waved the cluster, so you knew which ones he was talking about. Come to think of it, you did feel thirsty, and those grapes looked lusciously juicy.

"I don't see why not," you shrugged, not anticipated him to raise the cluster to his mouth and bite a grape off. You watched, mouth slightly agape as a perfectly fine grape rested between his fangs. Even the slightest subconscious movement could rip through the fruit, yet it stayed perfectly safe in his mouth.

He then crouched, now eye-to-eye with you. His eyebrows raised in your direction, challenging you. Challenging you to pull the fruit out of his mouth, and there was only one way to do it.

You bit your lip, you could have your fun, just until you find a reversal cure to his spell.

So, you grab onto both his wide, muscular shoulders, letting your arms cross around his neck. You smirk at him, bringing one hand forward to trace his features. He was so, so strong, to the point you were more aroused than intimated. Your hand reached his torso, you could see how your teasing placed him in agony. Slowly, you let your hand ghost over his pants, and lo and behold, he was aroused; painfully so, and you felt it immoral to torment a man so much (the fucking irony), so you palmed him through his pants, causing his mouth to hang open and out fell grape— right into your palm.

You bring the fruit up to your mouth, Alcides left mesmerised with the way your plump, perfect lips wrapped around it before ripping through it. A moan escaped your lips as the juice dripped down your tongue. "So good," you left out a sigh, and something in him snapped. Alcides flipped you around, you were now pressed against some wall that practically emerged in support of his... expeditions. He plucked two grapes, placing them in his large palm, before bringing it closer to your face. When your eyes widened in confusion, his other hand wrapped itself around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks to open your mouth, before you realised what he demanded and gave it to him; you licked about the fruit, before accepting them into your mouth. Your tongue still teased his flesh, when he pulled away. Amber eyes mere slits with obvious lust, "Now," he began, "You can say you've eaten out of the Lord's palm." He winked at you before walking away.

You steadied your haggard breathing, before deciding to follow him when a certain room caught your eye. It were as if your name was being chanted like a careful whisper, that only sounded when you were left alone. Following your gut, as a hunter as skilled as you would, you push open the heavy doors and let yourself in.

The first thing catching your eye was an obnoxious leather chair that you couldn't help but run a hand over, "Gator skin," you scowled. Though a hunter, you were against hunting — animals, that is, although you'd be hypocritical to say so when the creatures you send to hell are no less barbaric than a creature tormenting in wilderness. Still, you believed in fighting an equivalent, or even better, an apparent immortal.

On the left of it was an fireplace, charcoaled in exhaustion like it recently gave up it's flame and purpose, and in front, was a library, the source of your calling; not colossal, yet extreme in number. The whispering chant grew to a shout, a yearn for each leather-clad covering of ink spilled on paper to be touched by your feather-light fingertips, and only a fool would turn down a beseech like such.

Books of alchemy, instructional journals of God summonings, documentations on every supernatural creature that roamed the planet and how to kill them; even the Satanic Bible was on display, and you explored every single one of them. Fighting the temptation to steal every book with valour, despite how useful each would've proved to be to you in the future, you declined every book until you reached what you sought, rather, what sought you tonight. "The Book of The Four Houses", the spine read. You pulled the book out, not anticipating it to be so heavy. "The Book of The Four Houses", you read again, searching for an author, but not met by any name.

You flip through the pages frantically, in hopes to find any continuance of relevance to your brother's observations, and there it was: Familia Dimitrescu, the excerpt was titled.

"Alcides Dimitrescu was born into the noble Dimitrescu family sometime before the Great War, and through this ancestry inherited a hereditary blood disease, possibly porphyria cutanea tarda. Although his family traced their origins to Cesare, one of the four founders of an isolated mountain village in Europe, Alcides himself lived elsewhere, perhaps through a cadet branch. In the aftermath of the Second World War and the abolition of the nobility, Dimitrescu returned to his family's former lands, which had fallen under the control of a neopagan cult worshipping the Black God.

Prior to 1958, at the age of 44, Dimitrescu was lured by the cult leader, Mother Miranda, to a crypt beneath the village cemetery, where he was surgically implanted with a Cadou parasite. The purpose of this experiment was to determine his viability as a candidate who could become host to a parasitic intelligence at a later date. This experiment mutated Alcides' body considerably, granting him regenerative capabilities, retractable claw-like nails, and the ability to transform into a dragon-like monster and back again. Moreover, the parasite halted his aging process, maintaining his appearance perpetually. In spite of these impressive biological changes, the resulting mutation did not nullify his blood disease. As a result, Dimitrescu needed a ready supply of fresh human blood to maintain his health, and was therefore judged by Miranda to be a failure."

"Although Dimitrescu was of no use as a host, his claim to Castle Dimitrescu was recognized by Miranda and he was allowed to take residence in the village as one of the Four Lords, who would maintain order over the native peasantry while aiding Miranda in Cadou research. Upon inhabiting the estate, Dimitrescu took over his family's vineyard and wine-distribution business as a means of supporting himself."

"Relishing in his reclaimed noble status, Dimitrescu developed extreme caste-based views of society, seeing himself as second only to Miranda herself. He openly loathed the other three house Lords, particularly Karl Heisenberg, whom he frequently argued with. He privately bemoaned that he was not Miranda's favorite, instead being treated the same as all the others. Despite this, Dimitrescu's alliance with the other houses allowed him to rule his castle with barbarous cruelty, regularly taking in new staff to replace those who had been taken to his dungeon to be killed and drained of blood for sustenance."

"Dimitrescu's own experiments with Cadou appear to have been limited, as the only confirmed instance was an experiment begun by Miranda and monitored by Dimitrescu. In this experiment, the corpses of three men were implanted with Cadou parasites. Over the course of about a week, the Cadou produced fly-like organisms which then consumed the flesh of all three bodies. Having assimilated the DNA of these men, the flies merged to mimic their human shapes and slowly adapted their likenesses. Dimitrescu immediately formed a bond with these three men, whom he named Boian, Cătălin, and Dorin, and came to regard himself as their father. They obeyed Dimitrescu without question, and were similar to him in that they were ageless and reliant on vampirism for sustenance. However, they were incapable of withstanding cold temperatures, thus remaining trapped within the confines of Castle Dimitrescu."

That explains the overwhelming warmth of the Castle that had began to annoy you.

"Over the next seventy years, Dimitrescu and his sons systematically consumed the flesh and blood of local peasants and servants alike. The blood of maids was extracted and combined with grapes to create Sanguis Virginis (Latin for "Maiden's Blood"), a traditional Dimitrescu family wine. The female victims, now infected with Mold, lived on as Moroaicǎ and Samcă, while male victims were consumed and then hollowed out to be turned into scarecrows for the castle vineyard."

"Dimitrescu's reign of terror was not without resistance, however, as one villager is known to have stolen a family heirloom — the Dagger of Death's Flowers — in an attempt to assassinate him with its poisoned blade. The attempt failed and he was buried with the dagger in the Tower of Worship to keep it hidden from any others who might seek to harm him."

You snapped the book shut, mind whirling in an epileptic shock, replaying every single word over and over in your head, then images of Alcides, his "sons", Cadou Parasites, Mother Miranda? By the time you realised it, you were hyperventilating, eyes scattering from corner-to-corner, in search of anything less cryptic, anything less 'Once-upon-a-time-there-was-a-beautiful-boy-named-Alcides', and more 'Weakness-to-duhduhduh-kill-by-gunshot-to-the-duhduhduh'.

You threw your head back in unfamiliar pain that originated from your chest, you can't believe plain ink on paper knocked the air out of you, but then again, so did the signed caskets of your family; by the same man you now found out to be ancient and seemingly indestructible, but talk of this "Dagger of Death's Flowers" gave you hope.

Your thoughts of retrieving it were cut short when the doors burst open. "What are you doing?" roared the thunderous voice of the man of the hour, "Elvira." His voice was laced with an emotion you were too out of your head to begin deciphering. His eyes dropped to the book in your hands while awaiting your answer. "Oh, why didn't you say so?" His expression softened, causing you to raise a brow in perplexity. He walked over, the fondness in his eyes returned, causing your tense posture to relax a bit. He took the book from you, and seemingly landed on a page mentioning Alcides' life before lordship. "You really love this book, don't you? I guess it is fun to read a fan's work." He chuckled, flipping through the pages as if he hadn't seen the book in a long, long time.

Huh.

If 'Elvira', too, had been scavenging through the book of Dimitrescus, possibly for the same reason as you, maybe you're more similar than you thought.

When you looked up to his height, his eyes were already on you. "You look tired, my dear. I would be happy to take you to your quarters." He smiled, and your heartbeat was quick to quicken at that. "I'd like that, my Lord."

My Lord.

The walk to your chambers was a haze, all you could feel was the growing wetness in your panties from the way his eyes bore into you; penetrating every inch of you, consuming your conscience with the darkest desires.

Taking out your brother's journal from your bag, you flipped to a fresh page and began filling in your own conclusions. As you wrote, you began to think— not just as a hunter, but as a long deprived woman who had just encountered the most handsome man ever, who just also happened to have murdered her family.

The way he walks, the way he holds your innocent gaze challengingly, the way he looks at you like you're the most exquisite meal, and he's a man starving. You had long abandoned the trepidation and abhorrence you felt towards his cannibalistic lifestyle, instead, feeling a shameful surge of lust shoot into you. You rubbed your thighs together, laying on the bed, but dutifully still, writing every bit of knowledge you gained today; from the parasite, to relations with the leaders of the other Houses and Seven Royal Families that Vânători de urâciuni had already slaughtered, to Mother Miranda, and even what little you read about the Black God.

By the time you covered every intricate detail of a disaster waiting to happen, the heat between your legs was nuclear; the throb, unbearable, leaving you no choice but to act on your animalistic urges. You straighten up, slowly discarding the beautiful cloth that once accentuated your body, now felt like constricted bondages on it.

Once bare, you sink into the pillowy cushions of your given quarters. Something about the whole room smelled like him, but the strongest scent came from your dress, when you were pressed against him. Even both your arousals could be scented from the innocent rose dress, so you tugged it closer to you, breathing in his smoky musk scent, along with your innocent floral one. "Fuck," you groaned, fingers finally ghosting over the mess dying to be made between your legs.

You decided now was not the time to tease, so you coat your fingers in your wetness and smear circles on your swollen clit. "Fuck."

Your bud throbbed in your grasp, desperate to have a little somebody's fanged mouth on it, your nipples hardened the same, aching to have that mouth graze over them, suckle on them, taint the soft, ample flesh with sinister marks. Hell, if it meant one night of succumbing to carnal pleasures, you'd even let the fucker carve that neo-pagan cult symbol on you.

"Fuck!" You weren't thinking straight — no, you weren't thinking at all. How could you? You were under a spell, 'Yes, that was it,' you thought, more so struggling in convincing yourself than anything. Just the sheer thought of a man possessing vile notoriety, relishing in every crime you've fought against; his size, the abnormality of it all. You fantasised about how inhumanely long his tongue might be, teasing around your clit before plunging into your slit.

Oh, that's it.

You shoved your fingers inside of you, whining at how unfulfilling they were, when compared to the hands of him. You were pretty sure his middle finger was bigger than your face.

The only sound to be heard was the squelching of your pussy and your whimpering. You could only pray you weren't audible, not that you minded, because it was Elvira Stoica who'd get mocked, not Y/N Y/L.

Your pace quickened at the thought of him fucking you as Y/N. Would the thought of fucking the enemy be as tantalisingly erotic to him, too? Or would he just hate fuck you, and then feast on your flesh?

"Fuck me..—" You lost your voice when your breath hitched in your throat. "Ju-just like that, mhhm." You were so close, just a bit more... "Fuck me."

That's it, honey, just let go—

"Oh," you moaned too loud to be safe, "Alcides!"

Your legs were shaking, cunt spasming around your fingers while your chest heaved up and down, in a breathless state.

As you rubbed your high out, realisation dawned in on you.

What have you done?

You woke up disgruntled.

Still unimaginably wet, yet thankful for the release, but you hadn't forgiven yourself. Last night was unacceptable, even for someone enchanted. To make matters worse, this isn't even the first time someone put an infatuation spell on you; at least three men before this, but not to pacify an enemy, but to woo a stoic woman with only murder on her mind.

The victim of such a spell for the fourth time, yet Alcides is different. This was incredible necromancy, not like any you've encountered before. It was then you remembered the vessel underneath your bed. Almost too eagerly you jumped off the bed, still somewhat entangled in the sheets, which you threw off swiftly.

You ducked under the bed, the vessel promisingly in the same spot as you had left it. Reaching for it with closed eyes and crossed fingers, you pull it from underneath and lift it to your height.

As you peeped one eye open, then the other in disbelief, you threw the vessel with one swing of your arm. It banged against the wall, before falling to the ground with a typical, screeching metal noise.

This can't be happening. There was no way you felt what you did for Alcides, willingly. The clear contents of the vessel indicated otherwise, though. There was no mistake in your ritual, either; you added what was needed and waited long enough.

"No, no, no, no, NO!"

This can't be fucking happening. You were ready to bawl your eyes out, when one sophisticated knock erupted you. "Elvira." It was him, you knew, your body and heart knew.

When no response followed, Alcides began, "My sons and I are travelling out of estate," he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry for telling you on such short notice, but we won't be back until tomorrow." His voiced trailed off, as if waiting for you to reveal yourself, your reaction, anything, but you're too shaken up to give him any satisfaction. "That's quite alright, my lord." You swallow the lump in your throat, not being able to control yourself and adding, "I'll be right here, waiting." You swore you heard a groan, but were stuck in a limbo by the time Alcides left your door.

You decided all things could be said and done after bathing, so you run a bath and let the scented waters soak into you, replacing the stench of your sins with the perfumed power of blaming Alcides; but you couldn't do that anymore, could you? Not when he was never provocative.

Once you finished freshening up, you grabbed another one of the gowns Dimitrescu gave you. It was black, and beautiful; you were left speechless when you put it on. God, did he really have to make you feel beautiful when you were sent to kill his entire bloodline? "Ah, such unfortunate circumstances." You 'tsked' before doing your hair.

By the time you were done with your makeup, you were certain of today's plan: You were going for breakfast, accessing the courtyard, navigating the Tower Of Worship, exhuming the villager with whom the "Dagger of Death's Flowers" is buried; dig it out, lace the blade with gunpowder, stab all fuckers, one by one, get the fuck out, walk miles back home, and hibernate.

Sweet.

You step out of your quarters to find the chamberlain posted there, just like the day before. "If I say so, my lady?" She looked up at you, the tiny thing was adorable for the fear she felt, yet still wanted you to know that, "You look ravishing." She briefly looked you in the eye before the rouge on her cheeks became embarrassingly obvious, to her. You, on the other hand found her just as she was, adorable.

Upon entering the dining area, she silently took her leave, when you grabbed her wrist. "First Alcides, now you, too?" You asked, flirtatiously referring to both of them excusing themselves from you. "The least you could do is give me company." And how could anyone resist the sultry tone of a stunning woman?

So the chamberlain finds herself dining with you.

You insisted she sat besides you, and despite putting the maximum distance between your chairs, she complied. "So...?" You inquired after finishing your meal, referring to her name. "Oh— uh— Pasha, mi lady." You smiled, "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." You saw her rub her thighs together from the corner of your eye. "Well, Pasha," you decided to break the awkward silence that hadn't formed yet, "You think you can take me to the Tower Of Worship?" You sipped on your tea, eyeing her while you swallowed, only to see her with widened eyes and haphazard breathing. "Me-my l-lady—..." she stammered, hesitation painted all over her soft features as if you asked her to murder The Dimitrescus herself, or eat you out, you couldn't decide which was more mortifying for the poor girl. "What is it, Pasha?" You sighed.

"Th-the area is strictly off limits— only the... family can go there." She gulped at your growingly irritable expression. "I am part of the family — the Stoica household, in case you've forgotten, cameristă."

"I- yes, mi lady. I'm so sor—" "I don't want to hear it." You interrupted, raising a hand in the air. "Will you, or will you not take me to the Tower Of Worship?" You stared at her, the impatience visible on your face, before you decided to put on the façade you knew best; the façade of seduction. "Please, Pasha," you placed a hand on her bare thigh, her little skirt leaving little to imagination.

"For me?" Were the magical words that got the job done.

So you walk with the head of the staff of Castle Dimitrescu, into the family's place of worship, to exhume the corpse of the only man with the balls to try and assassinate him.

Pasha dropped you off at the foot of the Tower, more than happy to bolt away once you told her it was okay to leave you alone.

You walk up the stairs, and into the end of Castle Dimitrescu.

For a place of "worship", the place had the most oppressive aura, reeking of the occult and unimaginable. You fought your way inside, barely getting in while the air was knocked out of you; perhaps, a barrier of necromancy, despite it, you were able to get through.

You ran from corner to corner, searched every square centimetre of the place, but no place near-resembled the tomb of an assailant. "Fuck, where is it?" Your hands dipped inside your bag to look for something, before pulling it out and beginning your rummaging.

Indeed, you had stopped by Alcides' study before breakfast, telling the maid you 'forgot something' in there during your "time" last night, before winking at her shamelessly and forcing your entry. Sneaking out 'The Book of The Four Houses' was something you could do with your eyes closed.

Your eyes read past every word until you landed where you were made to stop, when the wave of overwhelm hit you last night. "Hall of the Four", the title read.

"The Hall of the Four, known in Japanese as Between the Four Angels (四天使の間, shi tenshi no aida?), is an area of Castle Dimitrescu." The Hall of the Four leads to the Tower of Worship, but this door cannot be opened until the four masks are placed on the Angel statues."

You groaned a string of profanities.

It's like you were set up for failure, and the worst part is, you could hear him laughing in the back of your mind— Alcides. His new abode has become the back of your mind, for he never leaves there.

Tired, disappointed and on the verge of giving up, you leave the Tower. You were a goner without the masks, and despite being in a rush to at least try and acquire them, you walked in a defeated slumber.

The chamberlain met you somewhere near the courtyard, surprised to see you walking out alive. "Lady Stoica—" "Just take me to my quarters, Pasha." You sighed, earning a swift nod from the confused chamberlain.

You walked lost, still, until you reached your room and opened that damned book again. While you scrolled through the contents, a mere note fell off, barely in your grasp.

The handwriting.

It was your brother's, but— it couldn't be. They never got close enough, which is why you're here now, right? They never got close enough. Three of the most feared, skilled men in the world of hunting never got close to one man and his three experiments for sons.

How in the hell did— Wait.

'Mask of Pleasure: Second Floor of Castle Dimitrescu',

that's where you are right now.

Everything could wait, hell, God could wait on the other line of heaven. You needed answers, yes, but something in your gut tells you it's better unknown. All that matters right now is killing him and every last member of his twisted family.

Or at least that was the plan...

You find yourself walking towards any room, with any possibility of possessing a mask. Hell, you had no idea what it looked like, but if it looks anything like the pleasure you'd be rewarding yourself with once you get the fuck out of this place, the mask won't be too difficult to find.

Soon enough you had pulled the place apart — the whole floor — except one room you hadn't set foot in. Alcides Dimitrescu's chambers.

A colossal door; you couldn't look away from the necromantic symbols etched into the woodwork. Had you not possessed the ability to see through such dark arts, you would've stepped right in and be left to deal with a fatality. You pull two vessels from your bag; the Blood of Christ and Vurxelheim, two of the purest substances on the planet, known to melt away all magic, no matter how ancient or dark, and as your expected, it did just that.

Alright, now all that was needed was to open the door, and even an amateur could do that with a pin.

Upon entering, you took in the details of his abode, almost forgetting to close the door behind you. Everything was brown; that's something you've noticed about the whole castle. Monotonously warm shades of brown, dimly lit with heat radiating over every surface. You only quirked a brow at the abnormalities. It soon came to your knowledge that the foundation of this floor is regarded as the "Hall of Pleasures". Kinky.

You looked around every corner, in every possible direction and space, but to no avail. Sighing, your head fell back, eyes closed it absolute demotivation, but when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was porcelain intricately carved, and hanging from the ceiling; a place where no mortal, but only a 9'6 indestructible titan of a tyrant could reach. It was obnoxious, if anything; placing it in a place so obvious, yet so out of reach — a direct message to show he's better than the rest, quite literally above them.

With no possible way of reaching it, you were still accessing your options when one strong arm wrapped itself around your waist and raised you up, right to where the mask hanged. "If you wanted to swing by my chambers,"

"You could've just asked, mic vânător."

Little Hunter— "Let go of me!" You writhed in his grasp, hand slowly reaching for the mask, still. "If you say so," he shrugged before letting go of you completely, letting you hang from the ceiling like a dreamcatcher. "Son of a bitch! You put me down this instant or I swear to God I'll rip through you and your experiments with my bare hands." "Ah, there's no need to get feisty, Elvira." He said, grabbing you by the waist, and putting you down, despite your kicking and struggling. "I'm only trying to help." He grunted, one hand disappearing behind his trench coat; you were ready to pounce at him, when he pulled, seemingly, the other three masks from behind.

"There you go, sweetheart. Masks of Joy, Sorrow, and Rage." He waved the remaining three keys to The Hall of the Four. You eyed him, and he swore the frowning pout was the cutest sight he's ever seen. "C'mon, they're yours for the taking, darling." He smiled at you.

"What's the catch, Alcides?" You sighed.

It's never that fucking easy, is it?

"One night with me." He simply spoke, taking your deepening scowl as a notion to carry on, "One night to decide what is it that you want, Elvira," "Or should I call you, Y/N Y/L of the Vânători de urâciuni?" Your eyes widened with horror; you hadn't processed him calling you 'little hunter', yet, and now this? This could only mean— "How did you—" "Please. 'You think I wouldn't find out about the mass murder of my fiancé? And imagine the gossip about town that it was a doppelgänger who did it." No, you were careful, he's lying — he's got to be. "Lucky for me, I get the sexier one, now." He chuckled, impressed with his wit.

When you didn't give him the satisfaction of freaking out on him, moreover agreeing to his terms, he rolled his eyes, "Pentru dumnezeu! The first mistake was the rocks you climbed on. They've deliberately been arranged like so, for trespassers like you to easily enter, walk through the courtyard, and into the quarters of my sons for them to feast upon. Then, leaving your blood on the grill? The scent agonised me. It was so difficult to put those three dogs on a leash, having never smelled something so sweet." He 'tsked', "The second mistake was trusting Pasha. It was her hand that twirled in your bath water, mixing the infatuation spell, and it was her, too, that switched the vessel underneath your bed. Very clever, by the way, very thoroughly performed indication ritual."

"But your third— baby, this mistake might as well be a blessing because it's the only fucking thing keeping me away from ripping into you slowly, and feast on your flesh for two whole days; pleasuring yourself, in my fucking castle, fantasising about fucking me."

"Oh, and the guillotine was Heisenberg, I only added the dramatic touch of sending the heads back."

You couldn't bear it.

Bottles full of emotions you've locked away for ages finally hit the concrete of reality; shattering to a million pieces while the man you still find irresistible, had an unimpressed look on his face. "Y/N. I know you want to kill me—" "Oh, honey, you have no idea." You laughed dryly, choking on sobs, but something tells you the impact of your threat didn't go in the direction you wanted because he visibly tensed when you called him, "honey".

"But," he raised both hands in defence, "I wouldn't have gotten you these," he said, waving the masks again, "If I didn't think this deserved a chance— we — deserved a chance." "You think I'll let you anywhere near me after you toyed with me like a plaything? Sent me my father, my uncle, my brother's heads to add a 'dramatic touch'?" "I should've put a more potent spell on you," he cursed under his breath, earning a scoff from you.

You pulled out a dagger from your thigh holster, and lunged at him. Caught off guard, Dimitrescu's eyes widen while you slashed through his alabaster shirt, eager to bleed some crimson into his lifelessly pale skin. "I've had it with you, brat!" He growled, the whack of his palm on your cheek took you back, and you didn't mean to moan.

The cry, it was wanton, and it had Alcides latching on to every ounce of self control he still preserved. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do," he grabbed the dagger from your grasp within a second. "You're gonna take off your clothes, lay down, looking pretty for me like you always do," he walked closer, raising his large hands again in defence. "You following me— okay," he inched closer to you, while you backed away, further into the wall. "I'm gonna feast on this pussy, then I'm gonna finger your tight hole open, and because I'm feeling generous," he grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, "I'm not gonna force my cock into your pretty little throat, you're gonna beg for it." He caressed your face, the way your doe eyes watered while staring at him, like glass he could see his reflection in, your agape lips and soft expression made his pants constrict his cock agonisingly. "And the last thing I'll be doing, even if it's my last ever," his hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you to his king-sized bed. Laying you down, and climbing on top like a wolf on a lamb, he says, "Is fucking this pussy till you finally accept that you're made for me."

His mouth latched onto your neck, easily manhandling you at the same time while you writhed in his grasp. "I would rather be dead." You spat out venomously, which only made Alcides smile. "Well, alright. I'd still pound you till you're a mere cum-dump, but I'd surely miss those pretty sounds you made when you fingered yourself thinking about me." He panted against your pulse point, baritone voice hoarse with lust.

He spread your legs, lifting both your hands up by the wrists to his face. "Tiny little things," he kissed the knuckles of each finger, "Unsatisfying, aren't they?" He showered your hands with kisses, "Don't worry, darling, I'm here now." He raised both hands so their size was visible in your periphery, before grabbing your dress and pulling it over your head. "No!" You resisted, causing him to huff, annoyed. "Don't make me tear it off, honey, you look breathtaking in it." He cooed, and your movements haltered enough for him to successfully get it off you. "Good girl— such a good girl f'me."

Immediately his eyes were on your curves, your hips — perfect for bearing the child he was about to fuck into you, your breasts, so ample, all available for his groping and fondling, your pussy almost peering out of the silk panties. "Fuck, Y/N." He groaned, about to rip your underwear off when your pleads interrupted him. "Alci-Alcides please don't." "Hm," his sharp eyes seemed to be calculating his next move. "You say no, but your body," he groaned, pressing the knuckles of two of his fingers against your clothed cunt, "Your body sings otherwise, my love."

Every second passing by was petrifying.

The mortal battle between blood and lust, two things you were the epitome of, qualities comprising your very backbone, now, asked you to break it; bend over backwards and break your back for this man.

The string of pleads you cried fell on deaf ears, which, a part of you was glad for. Maybe if you continued to put the blame on Alcides and his necromancy, you'll actually let yourself live with the fact that your desires to have him ravage in your guts is overpowering, and the carnality lay in the fact that you didn't even care about what happened after. You were serving him your body in a platter, which you had not an ounce of doubt would eventually serve that purpose, quite literally.

"Tell me you want me." He hovered over your breasts. If he wanted to play games, then games you'll play. "I want you..." you whispered, "to go fuck yourself." He would've smacked you again, but again, you would've enjoyed it. What did stop him, however, was the shit-eating grin plastered on your face that showed him you were still on planet Earth, among the living and the abominable.

"Now, why would I do that, when I've got such a pretty girl with her pussy all wet for me?" He mimicked your expression, staring into your soul until you were forced to look away, and your eyes landed right on his clothed erection. "This?" He followed your gaze, "You're going to take care of this in just a minute, but for now," he paused, his large hands turning into talons and ultimately perilous claws. Cutting through the hems of both your garments, he retracted his claws immediately. You flinched when his hands came closer to your hips, "Don't be afraid, mic vânător." His baritone voice gave you absurd comfort, the tone, reassuring. "They can't hurt you, unless I want them to." His pearly whites were like the fangs of a serpent, peering out, bloodthirsty for you.

With that, he lowered himself and dove right in.

You slithered about while his anomaly of a tongue kitten-licked your inner thighs. "I'll tie you to the fucking bed, if you don't quit squirming." He spat.

At your pussy.

You moaned in response, hips momentarily halting from the continuous resisting. "Yeah? You like that don't you, slut?" His fingers spread your slit, before spitting right into your tight hole that fluttered about nothing. "There you go, my love." He cooed in response to your whining, smoothly inserting his index finger into the same hole. A tremor ran down your spine at the sudden intrusion; the stone-cold, thick and long thing digit was a cruel thing, reaching that sweet spot the minute it bottomed out till, knuckle-deep in your velvety walls, and even calling the others to join in on the assault on your cunt.

Accommodating, now, three of his fingers, pummelling your cunt, scissoring you open, was more overwhelming than any dick you've ever taken. Maybe the fact that no one else could amount to the size of an ancient 9'6 vampiric cannibal Lord who's put his and the life of his sons in your palm.

Either you take them away, or let him take you to carnality never fathomed before, and the way he sucked on your swollen clit while fucking you with his fingers was a clear indication of your preference.

"Alcides," you moaned, nearing your high. "Yes, my love?" He replied almost instantaneously, as if finally you complied with a poor man's request. "What is it that you need, darling? I'll give it all to you." He lifted up from your pussy, leaving your clit with a wet 'pop' sound, making his way over to your breasts, while his movements inside you never faltered once. His sharp eyes searched yours, fixated on them while his hot tongue snaked out of his mouth to twirl around your hardened bud. Flesh on fire, you leaned into the feel of his mouth on you. "Fuck me, Alcides." You cried in defeat. How the mighty have fallen prey to the vultures of lust, mere carcasses of seduction.

Alas, the façade of seduction had backfired, and you had fucked up royally.

Upon hearing the trumpets of his victory through your pretty mouth, Alcides would've been a fool to refuse you. Eagerly he undoes his pants, letting his throbbing cock spring free. Your eyes damn-near saw your brain at the sight of the thing. "Alci— I can't." Seeing you panic, he began getting off on it. "You can, and you will." He hissed when his calloused thumb rubbed against the slit of his cock.

"Oh, I wanna feel that throat squeezing around me." He pumped faster, fucking his fist to the thought of you like many a night before. "But this pussy will do," "For now." He said, rubbing his length fervently against your slit, lathering your wetness on his leaking tip, enthusing a sweet mix of your cum, much more of which was to come.

"Won't be... able... to..." You spoke in between moans gaps the tip was in. The stretch was abnormal, ungodly, unnatural — exactly what you're deemed to kill. "You'll take it, mic vânător." He began to push more in, knocking the air out of your body. "Stop clenching," he groaned deeply, the sound resonating in your core. Nothing could've prepared you for this intrusion, so agonisingly painful, yet deliciously filling.

"You've... got to s.—stop... clenching." He pushed in the whole length, deadening your movements. You'd think he'd fear breaking you, but no. Alcides fuckin' Dimitrescu was thrilled to see you finally submitting, even if your body paralysed in the fear of being ripped open, your back arched, breasts stopped wavering in the air, and your breath caught in your throat.

Only when the loudest, most pornographic moan left your lips did Alcides begin to thrust into you, already drunk off of your pussy, ecstatic in ecstasy.

Despite the slow speed, his thrusts were deep enough for legs to start shaking. To your shock, he lifted your legs and since they couldn't reach his shoulder's that stood almost as stall as the fucking ceiling, they were swinging across his forearms, and at this angle he slammed his hips into you.

You screamed, damage was made to your vocal chords as well as your walls when the penetration quickly turned into pummelling, giving you zero time to adjust to the mammoth size of it. On seeing your closed eyes, Alcides smacked your face, gentler than before, yet enough for your eyes to shoot open, face contorting in pleasure at his gesture that was now among your favourites. "Don't let those pretty eyes waver away." His grip on your hips was threateningly tight. "Look into my eyes, or there," his eyes motioned downwards, and it was then you saw the immense bump in your belly. Your eyes widened in profound horror. He had most certainly torn your insides apart, you were sure.

"See how big it is— how well you still take it?" He babbled while vigourously pushing into your poor cunt. "Pl-lease, go... easy on—me." You managed to plead out, but nothing counts stop the possessed Lord. Finally, he got the chance to feel your insides, and there was no way in hell, he thought, he'd let you off easy. Not when you're the biggest threat to his existence, let you wrap so tightly around his monster cock.

Dumbfounded, cock-drunk, utterly paralysed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless attack your pussy had to endure.

Just when you thought your demise would be the sole pleasure you were forced to undergo, two of his fingers rubbed fervent figure-eights on your bundle of nerves that ached with bloodrush.

You babbled incoherences, whimpering, shaking your head repeatedly when he lifted your lifeless body, just the tip of his cock inside, and switched positions with you. Now, he laid, somewhat upright, hands crossed behind his head. Leisurely eyeing you, while you struggled to breath with his entire length upright inside your walls, his tip pressing against your cervix like an enemy threatening to break down your barriers; your walls.

"M-move... please..." you mewled, causing him to 'tsk' with disdain. "Help yourself, căprița mea mică." He raised a brow, mouth curling viciously into a smirk, "Use me as you please." Your shaky hands reached for his broad shoulders, raising then steadying your hovering self over his cock. His eyebrows wiggled in amusement, awaiting your move comically, until the feel of your walls struggling to take in his tip pulled him back into a trance of pleasure.

He let out an animalistic groan that lingered to be what you swore was a whimper, so you did your best to lift your tiring legs and plop down on his cock, upright and pulsating inside you. "I could fuck this pussy every moment for the remnant of my days." He smiled at you, large palms resting on your hot ass, slowly caressing your curves. The gesture, so contradicting to the impaling you were enduring, nearly knocked the air out of you, for when your perplexed eyes met his expectedly ravenous ones, you were shocked to see them replaced by fondness.

"If I'm lucky enough to live," he paused, hands squeezing your ass before sitting upright, pulling you with him. You moaned wantonly when you felt his cock deeper. "Let this be how we wake, how we sleep — in each other's embrace." His eyes widened, as did yours, like deer caught in front of headlights. The feigning look of innocence on his face sent your core spiralling with erotic ache, when his face, not once breaking eye contact, inched forward to stop just in front of your nipple.

You shrieked when he took complete control, earning a whine from you as you just got the hang of dominance, but when you noticed the hellbent gleam of carnality in his eyes, you knew you were in for a ride.

He suckled on your bud while fucking through you. "You're close, aren't you?" He pulled away from your nipple with a pop sound, resting his bearded face on your breast, "I know you are. 'Can feel her tightening around my cock." He chuckled, mouth back on the hardened bud in his presence. You sneaked a hand down and rubbed your bundle of nerves, fervently.

His large fingers, jealous of your own, were quick to replace them in driving you to your high. You were practically spoon-fed the orgasm, that took a toll on your fragile body.

No emotion overwhelmed every hemisphere, every neurone of your brain like ever before. Your mind went spiralling away, like an eternal shore hugging the lunar tide for the first time a night, your shore's dry spell was over, and your body did it's best to fight the feeling and drive a stake through his lustful heart, but your body was worn out; used as any lucky ragdoll would be.

The overstimulation sent you back to Earth at godspeed. His movements were sloppy, but not faltering, and soon enough, he let his seed bathe your walls a pearly shade. "Take it all— carry my seed." He moaned, absentmindedly.

When you plopped onto his shoulders, he lifted you up single-handedly and laid between your legs. You instinctively closed them; despite being too fucked out of it, you still cringed at how both your cum leaked out of you, ruining the sheets and everything between.

"Alcides, no—"

You were a second too late in pleading, for he grabbed you by the legs, placed them on his shoulders, and stood up.

You hung upside down, your pussy a stone's throw away from the man's smirked lips. By now, you knew what was about to unfold, yet the first lick to your cum-coated lips sent shockwaves down your spine (rather up?).

He moaned against your clit, the vibrations causing you to writhe in his grasp. His tongue licked your pussy clean, the circular motions on your clit, to the long licks from your clit to slit.

It's crazy how an anomaly like him became your exception — the hunter's favourite prey. With a tongue so skilled, you weren't to be blamed for succumbing to your current situation; not like you could do much in the grasp of a monster like him.

You're lucky his cock didn't fuck a new hole into you.

When his large palms let go of your hips, you wrapped your legs around his neck instinctively. You could've used his vulnerability to your advantage, had your mind not clouded in the ecstasy of overstimulation. It seemed like Alcides thought the same, for he smirked devilishly to himself, letting his talons ghost about your flesh, before slightly retracting to pinch and squeeze your nipples. He placed open mouthed kisses on your clit that not once stopped throbbing.

You shook in agony, his mouth worked tantalisingly slow on your burning hot cunt. Deciding to show mercy, an unlikely thing for the tyrant Lord, he smiled at your frame hanging tightly from his; your breasts heaving under his touch, obstructing his view of your pleasure-stricken face.

Lord Dimitrescu plunged his tongue inside you, placing one hand on your hip to push and grind you against his tongue, and you swore every atom in your body was swollen with pleasure.

"No... n-no more..." Your beseech was deemed adorable by the man tongue-fucking you. He pulled out, slithery wet tongue, coated in your juices, leaving you breathless. He lapped at your wetness, growing per minute as he so desperately coaxed more out of you.

Dumbfounded, pussy-drunk, utterly engrossed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless devouring of your pussy at the hands of your sworn enemy.

One of his hands snaked to your clit, the ever fervent pace of his movements drove you to madness. Your body stilled, eyes rolled back, breath hitched, and it was when his tongue flicked inside of you that you realised that you were doomed.

After drinking your juices clean, Alcides placed you gently on his bed, and by the time he laid next to you, you had already wandered off in dreams.

Your mother awaited your letters.

Perhaps, she'll be rejoiced to hear you alive and well, or maybe she'll be mortified that you're alive and well, and The Dimitrescus live and breath, still. Either way, she and the rest of the world better get used to you signing every final letter as 'Lady Dimitrescu'.

#lord dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu genderbent #lady dimitrescu #genderbent #lord dimitrescu smut #lord dimitrescu x reader #lord dimitrescu x reader smut #size difference #resident evil #resident evil dimitrescu #resident evil village #dimitrescu #monster smut #vampire smut #lord dimitrescu sons #supernatural #leon kennedy #dimitrescu family #hunter #monster hunter #elvira #anon my beloved

[shitteryfuckery]

link to cool song

the tall one eyed dude or something idfk i didnt read the comic

OCELEIAN???

#auditibop #best ask award goes to this anon

[lecl4]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a social media au where y/n and Oscar Piastri have been best friends for a few years. Y/n is an f1 driver and Oscar is in his rookie season and rumors start going around that y/n's dating Logan Sargeant, but y/n's secretly dating Oscar. So their relationship becomes public when y/n argues with another driver who crashed into Oscar in a race. I know it's oddly specific and kinda weird, but I'd really appreciate it if you could take it into consideration. Thank you! Have a nice day!

protective — social media au

pairing. oscar piastri x driver!reader

yourusername

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes and 719,034 others

yourusername touched down in Japan. can’t wait to beat this one again this weekend. ;)

tagged: oscarpiastri

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y/nnation my babygirls

oscarpiastri not if i beat you first

↳ yourusername unlikely.

oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, oscrpastry and 199,621 others

oscarpiastri what a weekend!! Japan you were awesome.

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yourusername congrats pastryy (told you i’d beat you)

↳ oscarpiastri don’t gloat

↳ yourusername :(

teampiastrii first podium of many🙌🏼

n4rris.lndo rookie of the season.

yourusername

liked by goatvettel, madelyncline and 621,093 others

yourusername suzuka dump🇯🇵💗

tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and logansargeant

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drivingy/l/n who u having dinner with girlie

stargirl.26 y/n & logan content😩

paddockbaes logan with y/n and her mom?? oh they’re so dating

↳ supermax.33 honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if they are

latestdrivers

liked by logany/n.nation, ferrarisgirl and 24,813 others

latestdrivers y/n, oscar and logan in the qatar paddock this morning

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sargeant2 i love them so much😭😭

mrpiastri oscar’s the ultimate third wheel

leclsrc i need them to confirm their relationship

↳ albonsfav real asf, i need to see their pictures together!!

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, logansargeant and 921,346 others

oscarpiastri girlfriend of the year award goes to…

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername i’m honoured <3

piastri.jpg huh😭

bbgy/n omgomgomg

redflcg wait sooooo y/n and logan are not dating???

↳ babenorris apparently not? i’m so confused😭

fastcrss screaming crying throwing up

note. i don’t feel like i did this request enough justice??😔

hope you like this one anyway anon & other readers💋👋

#f1 smau #f1 insta au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 instagram au #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri one shot #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine

[starkwlkr]

Hi anon with missing cillian request this side!!!😅😅

I just wanted to say ur work on cillian with nolan!reader was soooo good and was wondering if u could write one where she attends the award shows with him and chris and they include her in their speech

(Maybe nolan reader had given the book to her father🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️)

And if u could include some sweet couple and parents moment that would be AWESOME!!!!!!

what a night | cillian murphy (nolan!reader)

when you heard cillian’s name being called at the 2024 oscars, you felt like a tearing up, but you promised you weren’t going to cry. eh, some promises were meant to be broken.

the audience stood up to applaud for your husband. he turned to you and kissed you. you made sure your lipstick didn’t get on him like it did before. “i’m so proud of you.” you whispered to him as he gave you a hug.

when he released you, he stepped aside and saw his father in law, christopher, ready to give him a hug. you were sure twitter was going to make memes about the hug. it was something you discovered recently about how your father was always casting cillian in his work. you saw many jokes about it that it made you genuinely laugh.

finally, cillian made it to the stage to receive his oscar. in a room full of people, he found you staring at him with eyes full of love and proudness.

“i’m a little overwhelmed. thank you to the academy. um, chris nolan and emma thomas it’s been the wildest most exhilarating most creatively satisfying journey you’ve taken me on over the last twenty years. i owe you more than i can say. thank you so much. and thank you for not firing me after you found out your daughter and i were dating.” he said as the audience laughed.

the camera showed chris and you laughing at his joke.

after thanking the crew and cast, he looked at you. “thank you for being my partner in life, the mother of our beautiful children, my best friend, you are my person. i love you.” your father watched as you teared up.

after cillian finished his speech, you were tapped on your shoulder by your father, who offered you a tissue. “thanks, dad.” you chuckled as you took it.

next it was time for best director, a category you were nervous for your father.

“and the oscar goes to . . . christopher nolan, oppenheimer.” steven speilberg announced. your father had done it, finally. he was an oscar winner. after eight nominations, he finally got his golden statue.

after he hugged and kissed emma, he walked to your direction. cillian was still backstage, but he was watching close by. your father hugged you for a few seconds then kissed your cheek.

“you did it!” you cheered.

“it’s yours too, love.”

when he got to the stage, he was greeted by steven and got handed his oscar. it was truly a surreal moment. he first thanked the studios and several people who helped make the film.

“to my daughter, you are the reason for this.” he held up the statue. “you have a brilliant mind and a kind soul and i’m extremely proud to be your father. you gave me the book that this film is based on and you helped create a masterpiece. thank you forever. i share this with you.” his words made you cry even more.

you blew a kiss to your father then wiped away a tear. it was a dream come true.

shortly after, cillian got back to his seat, golden statue in hand. “did i do okay?”

“you did it perfectly, my love.”

when it was time for best picture to be announced, you were a bit confused. you weren’t sure if al pacino was didn’t care or if he was joking, but your father’s film had won best picture. it was a weird way to announce it, but your father and the oppenheimer team walked to the stage to receive the award.

it was definitely a perfect way to end the night.

#cillian murphy one shot #cillian murphy x reader #nolan!reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy

[leonw4nter]

hii could you do some re2r leon hcs abt him dating a figure skater? love your fics smm <33

RE2R!Leon Headcanons on dating a figure skater!

RE2R!Leon x GN!FigureSkater!Reader (Also my first request ever!! Thanks anon &lt;33)

RE2R!Leon who would drive you to and from practice everyday if he was free. He also offered to massage your sore arms and legs at the end of a strenuous practice, making sure you also ate well in order to restore your energy.

RE2R!Leon who is the resident figure skating expert in the Raccoon City precinct, knowledgeable on the jumps, scoring systems, the best brands of figure skating outfits to buy from, etc. He knows all these because you explain the mechanics of your sport to him any chance you get– laying in bed at night, mid-chew of your food, when he’s driving and you suddenly remembered that you haven’t said anything in a long time today.

RE2R!Leon who would make sure to attend all of your performances, near or far. He’s willing to call in sick just to watch your performance, if the station isn’t super busy. If the station really needs him, he’ll try to catch your performance on the box TV in the break room. 

RE2R!Leon who saved up before spending the first six months of his salary to get you new skates since your old ones were barely hanging on for dear life yet you insisted they still worked just fine. The skating apparel store personnel also gave him care instructions, him taking out a notepad and jotting down care instructions. Like the thoughtful boyfriend he is, he also picked up some grease for the blades and leather conditioner.

RE2R!Leon who would be the loudest person in the whole arena, the staffers and the people reminding him many times to keep the hollering down and he apologizes, even if he’s bound to do it again.

RE2R!Leon who always comes running to you with flowers in one hand, arms wide open to engulf you in a warm hug. He’s practically sobbing because he’s so damn proud of you, his camcorder full of shaky footage of you skating and him yelling. He’s got another camera in the pocket of his jacket, this time full of photos of you (some of the pictures blurry).

RE2R!Leon who nearly masters the art of styling your hair; name it and he’ll do it near perfectly (there’s always room for improvement and new ways to style your hair). Same goes for your makeup; he used to confuse concealer and foundation and now he knows which is which. He remembers the amount you use on your face and what brushes or sponges are used for each product. Sometimes, he even offers to get your brushes and sponges cleaned.

RE2R!Leon who flails his arms and tries not to fall on his ass on the cold ice when you took him out for an ice skating date. You suggested that he use the walkers that the establishment offered for newbies but he turned it down, saying he can just hold on to the side or hold on to you. After you taught, explained, and demonstrated all the moves you do for skating, he’s highly impressed and in awe especially now that he’s seeing the mechanisms up close.

RE2R!Leon who brags about his award-winning partner to the other officers in the station, showing the multitude of pictures he has of your awards. He might even show videos of your routines too, the officers complaining of slight motion sickness or not understanding anything because the footage is so shaky.

RE2R!Leon who will absolutely scream “that’s my girl/boyfriend right there!” or “see that person over there? The one in maroon! I’m their boyfriend!” to no one in particular while the people around him could care less.

RE2R!Leon who hypes you up before it’s time for him to go to the stands and for you to go in the holding area for the contestants, giving you kisses and playing upbeat music on the drive to the venue. He’s giving you so much hugs and words of encouragement, you feel your confidence spike.

RE2R!Leon who ran from the stands and tackled you, crying, when you were hailed as one of the winners. You were both in tears, laughing and smiling broadly but you swear that he cried harder than you did.

RE2R!Leon who will still come running to you with arms wide open to engulf you in a bone-crushing hug, flowers in one hand even if you didn’t place on the podium. At the end of the day, you did your best and he’s the proudest boyfriend ever. In his eyes, you’re the best skater there is and will still celebrate you no matter what.

RE2R!Leon who will listen to the song you finally found for your routine, his lovely partner seeking double approval for their music choice. That song would end up stuck in his mind for a week, even if it’s not his usual taste. While sitting in his patrol car or filing reports back, he’d randomly start humming “Hopelessly Devoted to You” or “Take My Breath Away” and giggle to himself because he remembers seeing you glide on the ice so gracefully. 

RE2R!Leon who doesn’t mind being the guy that people ask to hold their cameras so they can take a picture with you. He’s just some dude and you’re there, the topic of a nine year-old’s female sports icon essay for a subject at school.

RE2R!Leon who felt guilty when you had to pull out of a competition that takes place a state away from where Raccoon City is, flight tickets and hotel accommodation fees above what you two normally earn. He didn’t like seeing you dejected, a little farther from reaching the Olympic dream you want to achieve and sulking in your room. He promised to work harder and saved more money so he’d be able to support you financially in your dreams.

RE2R!Leon who will blast a Spice Girls or Madonna song and dance to it, making himself look stupid in front of you just to make you smile for even a little bit. Would do anything to help you get over a bad day. He’d suggest you doing his makeup to test out how a makeup look you’ve been eyeing might look; the powder is making his nose slightly itchy but he tries not to flinch so he won’t smudge the eyeliner you’re doing on him while you’re sitting on his lap, his hands resting on your waist or the small of your back.

RE2R!Leon who is your number one fan! Aside from whatever encouragement he’s showering you when you’re competing, he’s truly doing everything and more just so he can help you reach your dreams. On days that are either boring, best, or the worst, he will be there for you no matter what. He truly believes that you’re perfectly capable of being on your own but he’s thankful that you’re letting him into your life. He’s not the richest man in the world nor does he have a fat bank account but he’s doing everything in order to be able to provide for you, a small smidge of what he is willing to do for you.

NOTE - I finally finished 1/3 requests in my inbox, YEAHHH!!! I started on this one yesterday before I fell asleep, finished the rest of it while at school, and finished making the post just now :)) I've been gone for a while bc school and I'll probably be gone again for quite some time bc work is starting to pour in some more. I got a perfect score on a math drill today so I'm pretty happy about that, my (richer) classmates also organized a prom kinda thing bc we didn't get to have prom so I'm excited about that one :)) Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this headcanon and again, big BIG thank you to anon for sending this request in!!!! I hope I managed to live up to your expectations :))) I <33333 UUUUU!!!!!!!

The hanging star divider is made by @benkeibear , the images are colored by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy #fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy fluff #biohazard #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil headcanons #leon kennedy headcanons

[sainzfilm]

hey! i love your writing so much and i was wondering if you could do a drabble of charles and reader (model or actress or smth) where they’re already in an established relationship but it’d secret to the fans (friends and family know tho) and reader wants to make it public, feeling like she’s always on the side and that he’s embarrassed but actually charles feels he’s not good enough for her bc she’s also famous and so many guys like her

pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader

a/n: me wishing i could be in a secret relationship with anyone on my favs list….anyways hope you like this anon, thank you for requesting :)

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…Y/N Y/L/N!”

Charles couldn’t believe what he heard on television as he cheered for you from the hotel he was staying at. You did it– his girl got the most prestigious award for an actress and he couldn’t have been anymore prouder.

You looked ethereal as you walked up the stage, wearing the biggest smile on your face and the most elegant red gown. Taking the award from the presenter, you took a deep breath and raised it up high.

“Wow, this is just surreal! I never imagined myself on this stage, let alone holding this,” You laughed softly as you looked at the award in your hands, “There isn’t much to say. I’m grateful for all the love and support I’ve gotten for the past few years in my career. I’d never be here with out my family, my best friends, and a certain special someone in my life. This is all for them, thank you!”

Sitting on the bed, Charles couldn’t believe what he just heard. You had technically mentioned him in live television. It was if you were saying that your heart belonged to him, which somewhat eased up the doubts he’s had in his mind.

It wasn’t until a few hours later when Charles’ phone lit up from a Facetime call and he hurriedly picked it up, his heart fluttering when he saw your face.

“Congratulations, mon ange!” Charles exclaimed with a big smile on his face, “How’s my girl doing? Can’t believe I’m dating an Academy Award winner.”

“Thank you, my love,” You giggled as you laid back in bed, hair sprawled over as you lifted your phone above your face, “I feel exhausted but I really wanted to talk to you.”

“You should rest first,” Charles clicked his tongue as he shook his head, putting his arm behind his head, “You know I’ll be here when you wake up, baby.”

“I don’t wanna,” You pouted, which elicited a chuckle from your Monégasque lover, “I wanted to talk to you about something though, Cha.”

“Hm, what is it, mon ange?”

“You didn’t mind that I sort of revealed our relationship during my speech earlier, right?”

Charles frowned a bit, taking longer than usual to answer.

“Cha?” You whispered as your eyebrows furrowed, “Was my connection bad?”

“No, not at all. Sorry,” He mumbled as he sat up straighter, “I just- is it the right decision, baby?”

“I think it is,” You shrugged as you put your phone up against a pillow before laying on your side to face it, “We’ve been going steady for nearly a year and…I don’t know I just want to let everyone know that I’m taken by you, you know?”

“Mon ange…” Charles sighed as he rubbed a hand down his face, “Don’t get me wrong, I love you, but it’s just…”

“Just what, Charles? I’m not good enough for you?” You frowned as your bottom lip quivered, “Are you embarrassed of everyone else in the world knowing?”

“No, baby! It’s not that,” He said as he mirrored your expression, “It’s pretty much the other way around.”

“Huh? You think you’re not good enough for me?”

Charles looked down and nodded, “Yeah. You’re just so famous, you know? I’m like a tiny speck in your universe and all these guys want you, yet you chose me.”

Hearing Charles open up about what he felt shattered your heart. How could he ever think that way? He was beyond perfect– your dream guy rolled into one certain Monégasque Ferrari driver.

“Cha…” You pouted as you looked at him through your screen, “You’re so much more than enough for me. Who cares about those guys? You’re everything that I’ve ever yearned for in my life.”

“You’re just saying that…”

“Charles Leclerc, look at me,” You sternly said as he looked at you, “Who did I pick?”

“Me.”

“Who’s my boyfriend?”

Charles grumbled, “Me.”

“I love you. My heart is yours,” You smiled reassuringly, “You’re the only one I have eyes for. I promise.”

“I love you, mon ange,” He smiled softly back at you, “Sorry you have to put up with me.”

“I could say the same to you,” You chuckled as you looked at him lovingly, fighting back a yawn, “Whats yours is mine– burdens and joys.”

“Through burdens and joys, baby. Now, go to sleep, you need to rest. I’ll be here, I’ll stay in the call.”

Yawning as you nodded, slowly drifting off to sleep, “Goodnight, Cha. I love you.”

“Goodnight, mon ange, I love you.”

As you slept peacefully, Charles stared at the ceiling and thought how light his heart felt from your reassurance. You chose him. And, maybe, it is time to let the world know how much he loved you.

bonus scene!

Liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and 982,431 others

charles_leclerc my girl just won the academy award for best actress last night. always proud of you, mon ange. you’re taking the world by a storm, i love you. 🤍

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yourusername: my cha, my il predestinato 🤍 i love love love you more than words can say.

❤️ liked by charles_leclerc

leclercupdates: HOW WHAT WHEN WHERE they’re so cute!!! 😭

carlossainz55: ay cabrón, finally! and congrats to my friend, Y/N 😜

yourusername: thank you mr. smooth operator 😌

ynlovebot: IM SCREAMING I KNEW THIS WAS COMING FOR A LONG TIME

16leclerc: TELL ME ABOUT IT I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING MY PARENTS

#sainzfilm drabbles #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 driver x reader #f1 imagine #fluff #f1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #drabble #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #cl16 #ferrari #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc drabble

[tzyuki]

I LOVE UR BLOG SM 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 i don’t usually request but i had this idea, how do you think enhypen would react to idol!reader crushing on them ? either publicly or privately, whatever you prefer. for a scenario, imagine reader talking about their crush on live, or compilations being made online of you staring at the enhypen member during an award show. if this doesn’t speak to you, thats completely okay !! don’t force yourself lmao 😭

— (05.15.23) ENHA-QUESTS

IN WHICH ✶ idol!reader has no shame in expressing their admiration for enhypen members either secretly or publicly!

genre 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ idol!reader x idol!enha. fluff fluff fluff!!!

warnings 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ none that i know of, if so please tell me!

ej note 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ hi anon! thank you sm for requesting! literally no one requests me at all so thank you, feel free to request some more in the future! i hope you enjoy this 💗

͏͏⏤ ☆ yang jungwon / 양정원

jungwon giggles and kicks his feet whenever he sees another clip of y/n talking about him go viral. others may not know jungwon is the cute sunbae y/n fawns over on live but reading comments trying to figure out who said sunbae is makes him giggle and blush when they mention his name.

͏͏⏤ ☆ lee heeseung / 이희승

whenever y/n is asked about their ideal type on variety shows they always say they don’t have one but never fails to mention how they think hamsters are cute. heeseung tries to play it cool, knowing the cute hamster is him.

͏͏⏤ ☆ park jongseong / 박종성

one time y/n confessed that jay was their biggest fashion inspo during an interview. they talked about how much they admired his passion for fashion and soon clips and hashtags of them went viral everywhere. jay expressed his thanks online, he hasn’t heard of y/n before so it was hard to get a hold of them. every time y/n expressed their admiration for jay he would get these weird butterfly stomach feelings.

͏͏⏤ ☆ sim jaeyun / 심재윤

y/n and jake met backstage on the day of y/n’s debut, jake was so kind to them that they had gained a little crush on him. y/n doesn’t fail to compliment and talk about jake every interaction they get. on live y/n speaks highly of jake, saying he is the best sunbae they’ve ever met. jake just giggles behind his screen whenever he sees these clips. he and y/n don’t talk much but when they do he makes sure to savior the moment.

͏͏⏤ ☆ park sunghoon / 박성훈

cocky af when he hears about y/n and their little rants about how ice skating is an attractive sport knowing damn well they’re talking about him. y/n goes on naming a list of figure skaters they like, making sure to name park sunghoon. “can’t forget park sunghoon, he’s so cool!” he’s smirking and like giggling on the inside.

͏͏⏤ ☆ kim sunoo / 김선우

y/n once talked about mint choco lovers and mint choco haters on live. they went on about how mint choco lovers were attractive and cool, they named a list of their friends who were mint choco lovers and mint choco haters. then they said “kim sunoo, hes cute and likes mint choco! a win is a win!” kim sunoo and y/n have never interacted online or behind the scenes like ever. 😧. sunoo was so flabbergasted, and every time he saw y/n when their schedules overlapped he would get shy around them.

͏͏⏤ ☆ nishimura riki / 西村 力

nishimura riki teased y/n endlessly ever since the day they mentioned that he was their ideal type. whenever y/n would say a different idol as their ideal type nowadays he would angry text them asking why their ideal type has changed. y/n would tease him back saying stuff like “because he offered me a piece of his snack and complimented me.” the next day riki would shower y/n in compliments and then try to downplay it when y/n would confront him about it.

enha-masterlist — permanent taglist (open) ; @jangwonie @cwsana @luvyrin @amara-mars @ineedaherosavemeenow @mintydayeon @love-4-keum @kpopx-xlover @abdiitcryy @beepjeongie @ox1-lovesick @ja4hyvn @shinsou-rii @winkura @ddeonudepressions @tnyhees @wannabeyn @kpoprhia @svnghoonsonly

#enhypen fluff #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #jungwon x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #jay x reader #sunoo x reader #ni ki x reader #enhypen requests

[m4ctavish]

Ghost — Youth.

Masterlist.

Desc : Some general headcanons regarding how Ghost is w/ his child growing up :)

A/N : You guys really love dad! Ghost don’t you?? Please keep in mind while reading this that anon asked me to put aside him being gone all the time in exchange for some soft headcanons ^^

Simon “Ghost” Riley :

He was nervous to be a father in the first place. He didn’t want to be anything like his own; he’d never want his child to resent him in the way that he resents his.

I feel like having a child would give him that extra push forward to be better though. (Of course his partner already does that but a little extra help is nice)

Alongside that, I feel like he’d do absolutely anything to keep them safe and out of harm’s way. (Which sometimes means not being able to present himself as a father. He doesn’t want nor need someone going after either his partner or his child.)

Moving on to the actual headcanons though; the first time he gets to hold them, he’s abnormally gentle. He’s so afraid that if he moves wrong or even just breathes wrong, he’s going to hurt them. If they hold on to one of his fingers, he just flatlines. (Or to put it simply, he cries about it.)

There’s probably a few photos somewhere, collecting dust either in a frame or in a photo album, of him laying either on a couch or bed with him passed the fuck out and a baby on his chest. (He always makes sure to keep an arm supporting them— doesn’t want them sliding off)

Once they’re old enough to walk and run around, best believe this kid is not leaving his side. They Love Their Dad. (They probably hang on his leg and he’s just like 😐 while trying to do whatever he needs to do with a kid on his leg)

With that said, I can definitely see them constantly asking him about what everything is that he’s handling. (“What’s that?” “A knife.”) If they’re genuinely curious, he may let them hold it ONLY with the sheath on, just to feel its weight in their hands.

When they’re a bit older and able to understand the severity of what he’s teaching them, he’d show them how to use it for the sake of their own protection if he’s not there to keep them safe. ‘Course it’s a bit of a dark thing to teach a kid but he’s just worried that something’s going to happen when he’s not around.

Maybe he’ll also teach them how to use a handgun.

If the two of them are messing around and they try to run past or around him, he’ll just scoop them up and they’re giggling so hard he just kind of has a “i’m really a dad” moment (“Going somewhere, little one?”)

I’d like to believe that he’d teach them a few things he believes are necessary; a mixture of valuable life lessons and just simple survival skills. The world can be cruel and unforgiving and he doesn’t want them navigating it the same he did in his youth. He wants to be able to prevent them from making the same mistakes he did and wants them to be able to be better than him in any and all ways possible.

I feel like a lot (not all) of pictures of him and his kid, he’s coincidentally not in frame all the way or if he is, part of his upper body is blocked out by a glint or he’s blurred out by shitty focus. If anything, the easiest way to tell that it’s him is the tattoo on his arm. (His kid goes around showing their friends pictures of the two of them but it’s just Ghost from the waist down; he’s got an arm wrapped around their shoulder whilst they’re wrapping their arms around his middle. The only thing recognizable about him is the tattoo on his forearm and his build.)

This kid is likely used to seeing Ghost with and without the balaclava. Maybe initially the skull faceplate used to scare them but as they got older, they learned to associate it with him and it just became another extension of their dad.

With elementary school and kindergarten, I feel like he not always understands the little awards kids are given but he’s proud nonetheless. Star reading ribbon? Hell yeah. His kids got some chest candy of their own. (Probably a few pictures out there of him crouching beside his little one, arms wrapped around them tight. They’re holding a paper with a little golden seal on it and they’re oh so proud, a bright and giddy smile on their face.)

If they’re one of those kids that waits until 9pm the night before a project is due, to tell him that they need to go to a store to get stuff for a poster board, he’s just like Shit. Best believe the two of them are making a late night shopping trip and he’s just kind of mumbling to himself about what they might need because GOD they came to him instead of their other parent and AAAA. Best believe that if they get tired and can’t finish up the project (considering how late it may get) he’d probably stay up gluing down pictures, poster board frames and little excerpts about whatever it is their projects on and he’s just like Fuck, this better be good.

#dad! ghost #certified dad moment #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #call of duty x reader

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Worth The Wait: Part Two

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a J2 x reader imagine where the reader is actress and singer that was nominated for a Oscar or something like that and became one of the few people that have a EGOT (the achievement of having won all four of the major American entertainment awards (i.e. an Emmy, a Grammy, an Oscar, and a Tony) and obviously everyone is so happy for her, spn fans, her fans, her friends, famous people, her family, spn cast and especially her boyfriends that they weren’t with her for some reason?

Summary: You've been working endlessly to put your own album out, and now you've been nominated for a Grammy... the only award that keeps you from being an EGOT winner. Will you win tonight? Will you finally be out on that prestigious award list that only nineteen people have ever been on?

Square Filled: pie (2022) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: the asks says jensen and jared to be the love interest for the reader, but i only made it for jensen

x

This is it. This is the moment I’ve been working my ass off for. I can do this. Even if I don’t win, it’s an honor to be nominated.

After working on Batman vs. Superman, you worked tirelessly on putting out your own album, your very first. Your fans have been asking for one since they’ve heard you sing in movies and on Broadway. You’re just giving the people what they want. Well, they loved it so much that you’re nominated for some of the categories for the Grammys.

If you win just one category, you’ll be an EGOT winner. Only nineteen people have earned that prestigious award in history, and you can be one of them if all goes well tonight.

“I know you’re nervous but you’re going to do great. I’m going to be right here next to you. Even if you don’t win tonight, you’re still a winner in my eyes,” Jensen smiles.

“Thank you,” you smile and kiss him just as the limo arrives at the Grammys.

The cameras are on you the second you get out of the limo. There is a staging area before the area where the pictures are taken, so you and Jensen take the chance to touch up your makeup and both your outfits. 

There are millions of people watching on their TVs at home so you make sure to put your best smile on when you go out there. As soon as the press sees you, they call your name in hopes you pose for their cameras. Jensen makes sure you get some good solo ones before joining your side.

You pull Jensen close and kiss him quickly which will make for a good photo. You spend ten minutes smiling at a bunch of different cameras before moving past them to the section where celebrities like to hang out before being seated inside.

Two reporters are off to the side interviewing anyone who wants to talk to them, and they spot you and Jensen easily.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ackles. Wow, you two look stunning,” one of them says.

“Thank you.”

“Do you have a bit of time for us?”

“Actually, we do,” you smile and step forward.

There is a camera pointed at the mini stage you’re on so that viewers at home can watch this.

“We are here with the lovely Jensen and Y/N Ackles. I have to say, you two look amazing.”

“Thank you. I love both your dresses as well,” you smile.

You four talk about being nominated, who you’re wearing, what it means to be here, and anything else they want to know.

“I’m just excited for tonight. It doesn't matter if I leave with an award or not. Everyone here is a winner in my eyes.”

“Thank you for coming out. That was, again, Y/N and Jensen Ackles.”

You and your husband leave them to go find your seats inside. You’re pretty nervous so you’re glad that Jensen is here with you. That, and alcohol usually clams your nerves. A few of the people who are nominated are performing but you’re not one of them. You’d love to be performing one of your songs from your new album but they didn’t ask you to do it.

Nonetheless, you enjoy the performances that everyone else puts on.

Mariah Carey walks on stage to give out the award for Best Pop Vocal Album and you start to bounce your leg. This is the first category that you’re nominated for so you’re extremely nervous.

“You’re going to do great,” Jensen says against your hair as he kisses your head.

“Thanks,” you whisper back.

“I am so honored to present this award for Best Pop Vocal Album. The nominees are Chemistry by Kelly Clarkson.” They play a snippet of one of her songs before moving on to the next nominee. “Endless Summer Vacation by Miley Cyrus.” You love Flowers. She did such a good job on the song. “GUTS by Olivia Rodrigo.” You’re not a fan of hers but you can see how she’s successful. “Midnights by Taylor Swift.” Now there’s an album you can get behind. You love her so much and hope you can collaborate with her one day. “Finally Free by Y/N.” Jensen grabs your hand when she mentions your name. “And the Grammy goes to…” She takes her time opening the letter and smiles when she reads the name on it. “Finally Free by Y/N!”

Tears immediately come to your eyes when your hit single starts playing over the loudspeakers. The cameras are on you to gauge your reaction but you don’t pay them any attention. Jensen kisses you and encourages you to go up there on your own.

You leave him at the table and join Mariah Carey on stage who hands you the award with pride.

“Thank you so much,” you try not to cry. “I can’t believe this is happening. Words cannot express how grateful I am not only to my fans but to my husband who has stood by my side through thick and thin. He is my rock and my biggest supporter. I also thank my team for putting this amazing album together so effortlessly.

“I have been striving for this award since I won my second Emmy. By winning this award, I have managed to make it onto the EGOT list which is the biggest achievement I could have ever gotten. I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart.”

Tears fall freely but you’re grateful for winning this award. Everyone cheers for your win even as you’re walking off stage. Jensen meets you backstage and pulls you into his arms.

“God, I am so proud of you!” he smiles happily. “You did it!”

“I can’t believe this is happening right now.”

“As soon as this is over, why don’t we get celebratory pie?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you grin and kiss him. 

x

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