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youryanderedaddy · 4 months

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Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3

As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.

At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.

You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.

One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.

"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.

You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.

"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.

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Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.

He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.

"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.

"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.

"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.

"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."

You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.

************************************************************************

The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.

"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.

"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."

Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.

"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.

You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.

"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.

As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.

"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.

And he always gave into you.

So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.

"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?

"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"

The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.

"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.

"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.

As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.

#yandere #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere dragon #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut

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logicalbookthief · 1 year

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I adore the fact that in so many other stories, Mob Psycho would’ve concluded with the World Domination Arc. After all, it has the big, climatic battle with the ensemble cast versus the overarching villain. They win, and everyone goes home, all’s well that ends well, right?

Except the story doesn’t end there. Because Mob has yet to reckon with this internal, antagonist force that has haunted the narrative since the very beginning: Himself.

When Mob comes face-to-face with ???% at long last, he says: I am Kageyama Shigeo.

This isn’t a conflict with a villain, or another esper, or even a separate entity that resides inside Mob’s body. It is something far more personal, and far more relatable.

???% is the culmination of everything Mob’s held back. Not just emotions like anger or fear. Even his desires, like his crush on Tsubomi. All muted by his efforts not to hurt anybody with his powers. Mob has come such a long way, but he’s still restraining his feelings so tightly that the moment his control wavered, ???% took over.

But the conflict isn’t the destruction ???% is wreaking just by walking through the city. The conflict is Mob refusing to accept this part of himself he’s suppressed for so long.

And ???% is right! Every attempt to stop him thus far has failed. Because he isn’t meant to be stopped. Mob has to reconcile with the parts of himself that he won’t acknowledge.

And it’s the most difficult thing Mob has ever had to do! This is the part of himself that hurt his brother; that hurt his friends and decimated so much of the city. Reconciling with it means accepting that Mob hurt those people, whether he wanted to or not. It means accepting all facets of himself, even ones he’s not proud of or wishes he could change but cannot.

Mob has grown so much in this latest season alone, he hasn’t had any explosions, and he felt confident enough in his own abilities to actually ask Tsubomi out, which was something the Mob of two seasons ago could never imagine.

But what about the advice Reigen gave him for his confession to Tsubomi?

His true self, in its totality. This is what Mob has struggled with the entire story. This is why his confession to Tsubomi is the culmination of his character arc. Expressing his feelings means exposing his true self to someone else, even with the fear of rejection.

And while we’re on that subject. Let’s talk about Reigen. Right after he gives this advice to Mob, he says this about himself:

It is the height of irony (and tragedy) that Mob and Reigen admire each other’s strengths so much, yet have no idea they struggle with the same exact fear: that if the people they cared for found out who they truly were, they would reject them. It is why Reigen relies on lies and why Mob suppresses himself.

It is also why Reigen has never actually witnessed ???% until now. It is why Mob has never heard Reigen admit the truth about himself out loud.

And that’s why the final arc feels like such a gut-punch in the best of ways. What is harder than accepting who you are, and hoping for others to accept you as you are? Even at your most deceitful, or your most destructive? Mob Psycho ends with the Confession Arc because that’s the very heart of the story.

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #mp100 spoilers #mp100 s3 spoilers #kageyama shigeo #reigen arakata #tearing up as I typed this don’t mind me #I’m a manga reader too but seeing this animated finally got to ne #and then the reigen parallels hit me!!!#I’m not Ready for next episode

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percygranate · 11 months

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⚠️PSA – ickybatz is back! Predators on AO3⚠️

⚠️TW for Mentions of Child Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Minor Sexual Content, Pedophilia, GROOMING, and Pedophile Conversations. PLEASE read and reblog if you can.

IMPORTANT UPDATE: Demobatz is NOT ickybatz, also known as batty-ruski, battyrusk.

I made a mistake by assuming due to the names, and after being in contact with Demobatz, I edited the post. I apologize for this but don't fully regret calling them out, as it helped Demobatz realize they made a mistake and it brought a lot of attention to the issue of predators on AO3 and Tumblr.

In-depth explanation [HERE]!

This 13/16-year-old CHILD is out here asking for pedophilia requests and getting encouraged and groomed by predators.

I accidentally came across it, and I encourage you to report them and everyone interacting with their work. There is a difference between dark romance, dark fics, and straight-up romanticization of children being assaulted.

They write about these children actively partaking and enjoying it, hoping they can please the adult taking advantage of them. These works are clearly written for the type of person that gets off on it.

——— Update ———

Their way of writing to cope with past trauma was groomed and manipulated by predators on AO3.

——— Update ———

——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———

So much for “Oh, they are a traumatized child and made a mistake.” They now know it's wrong and continue doing it, even worse than before. And people continue to support it.

Their fucking apology was absolute bullshit. And everyone that came to their defense should be ashamed of themselves.

——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———

↓ Here are AO3 accounts supporting this. ↓

Yes, they put warnings on their work and say “Don’t Like It, Don’t Read It!” But I would like to show you what they are writing, and how they are getting the attention of predators. I am sure you have to agree with me that they and everyone supporting this need to lose any type of platform they own. Demobatz should NOT be in any contact with these men.

⚠️They encourage each others to write this and Demobatz, A 13/16-YEAR-OLD, is actively putting themselves in danger by making “friends” for roleplay, and exchanging social media, with very likely, PEDOPHILES. They are actively getting groomed by people that know what they are doing.⚠️

——————————————————

↓These are their two original works↓

Financial Struggles — The summary says it all. But I feel like I should point out their conversation under their post.

Mother’s Milk — Sexual Assault of a male baby.

——————————————————

↓This is their work in the Stranger Things Fandom↓

Their work “Deceit” which is taking requests and actively posting has, as of May 21st, 16 Chapters.

1 — “Using this as a coping mechanism for my own trauma. Please request, any age is allowed❤️”

2 — Eddie Munson, 25 y/o | Reader, 17 y/o

3 — Uncle Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson | Reader, 6 y/o

4 — Eddie Munson, 20 y/o | Reader, 12 y/o

5 — Steve, 19 y/o & Eddie, 20 y/o | Reader, 14 y/o

6 — Dad Steve | Reader, 8 y/o

7 — Dad Steve & Eddie | Reader, 8 y/o

8 — Big Brother Steve | Reader, 4 y/o

9 — Big Brother Billy Hargrove | Reader, 6 y/o

10 — “Posting this so that you all can give me ideas on what to post next❤️ Anything is allowed/ age can be whatever you want♡♡!”

11 — Billy & Steve | Reader, 3 y/o

12 — Hopper & Joyce | Reader, 4 y/o

13 — !BILLY HARGROVE AND A NEWBORN BABY!

14 — Billy | Reader, 6 y/o & Max, 7 y/o

15 — “It hasn't been a week and I'm almost at 2,000 reads! Thank you all so much♡♡ Feel free to drop suggestions, request or even ideas/blurbs♡♡”

16 — Big Brother Eddie / Reader over the years, starting at 6 y/o

——————————————————

They actively encourage pedophilia and put themselves on a silver platter for predators.

If you are still trying to justify these types of works, please do it off anon and openly so you can be blocked since you are part of the problem.

Do not send threats, bullying, or harassment their way. Block and Report.

If you know one or more of the interacting blogs, call them out.

⚠️UPDATE: 22nd of May⚠️

Dear fellow Bloggers, Demobatz pedophilia fic “Deceit” has been taken down!

Yet their two original works (mentioned above) are still there. I ask you to keep reporting them!

Demobatz is currently using Wit as their social media to exchange ideas for their CSA & incest Erotica, and worse, to roleplay with potential predators.

⚠️Update: May 25th⚠️

AO3 has removed their account or they deleted it themselves. Their Wit profile has been deleted.

Due to this post, my blogs keep getting shadowbanned and reported.

⚠️Update: May 26th⚠️

DEMOBATZ CONTACTED ME AND I CAN CONFIRM THIS APOLOGY TO BE REAL!

In-depth continuation and explanation [HERE]!

⚠️I turned off Reblogs as the original post with false information is still making rounds and therefore people are missing information.⚠️

#ickybatz

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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The Stranger 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

Note: My first time writing this character!

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your nails are crusted in dirt as you kneel in the garden. You grunt as you wrestle the roots of weed from the soil and toss it aside. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove as you hear the screen door snap shut. Your grandmother stands on the stoop, her hand on her achy hip.

“Did you hear, dearie?” She calls in her creaky voice. “Someone’s moved into Clyde’s old house.”

“Huh?” You catch your breath as you gather up the broken weeds, “it’s half ash.”

“Suppose they’ll fix it up,” she mutters as she leans on the narrow iron rail along the side of the backsteps.

“Suppose,” you agree as you stuff the green and brown foliage into the paper bag for the compost. “Who told you that?”

“I was just talking to Lynette on the phone. She also said Molly’s having her fifth.”

Five kids? You hide your chagrin at the thought. You don’t mind kids but that’s a lot to handle, let alone the pregnancies. Molly balloon’s up so big she can hardly move. Her last shower, she sat the whole time. Not much different than you, you guess. You sat in the corner and watched the silly games

“That’s exciting,” you say as you stand and dust off your knees, crumpling the top of the bag in your other hand.

“Ah, I’m sure you woulda loved to have four sisters? Maybe brothers? It’s a pity your mother never gave me any more grandchildren.”

“Mmm,” you suppress a frown, “yeah, well…”

“Anyhow, enough talk of spoiled milk,” she waves off, “I got a pie in the oven. You can take it over the Clyde’s once it cools.”

“I… why would I do that?”

“Oh my, don’t be ridiculous. We have a new neighbour, we have to be polite and welcome them to the village. It’s probably a nice family, or maybe someone your age. A friend?” She suggests, “I’d do it myself but I don’t think I’d make the walk…” she looks down at her hip, theatrically rubbing it.

“Right,” you agree, the prospect of strangers making your tummy lurch. “Well, that pie will take some time.”

“Long enough for you to put on something clean,” she tuts as she looks down at your dirty jeans, “my lord, what would they think?”

“Yes, gramma, I’ll change, once I get this in the compost.”

“Good,” she smirks triumphantly and turns to swing open the screen door, the hinges whining shrilly.

You sniff and cross the yard. It’s not often there’s new faces in Hammer Ford. The village is a tourist trap at best and not a very lively one. Everyone calls each other by name and it’s second nature to stop and say hi. But that’s because you know each other; you have for years.

You lift the lid on the large bin and empty the bag into it. You could always lie and hide the pie in some bushes. Your deceit wouldn’t be hidden for long. Even in this sleepy place, word travels fast and someone always seems to be watching and waiting to pass it on.

🥧

You head out with the pie in a basket like some fairytale. You’re only short a red hood and a big bad wolf. You set off down the country roads, following the lazy curves towards the horizon. It’s after noon and the sun’s turning mild as it drifts across its pale canvas.

The old homestead is the second closest to your grandmother’s. The homes around Hammer Ford or sprawled out amid the plowed fields and green meadows. The cluster of old pines loom over you as you pass in there shadow and crest the hill that marks the edge of the property. Clyde’s tractor used to sit there, just by the broken down fence.

Ahead, down another stretch of road, this path unpaved, stands the decrepit house. The tragedy still singes the memories of the villagers. That night comes back to you in a blaze of orange and the smell of cinder. Poor old Clyde was buried behind Sacred Stave church.

You search the overgrown grass for a sign of life. There’s a black truck by the caved in garage but that’s about it. It might not be a family. It’s a lot of work to do with little ones around. If anything, it would only be the parents as they rebuild. Your mind wanders, wondering who would buy the old farm and why.

You come down the path, just along the ditch that dips behind a cluster of brambles. There’s a snap and a crack and you skid to a halt on the stones. You spin and look around, a heavy breath pluming into the air. Like the fire reawakened.

“Can I help you?” The deep timbre rolls through you and you step back on your heel as you face the man down in the ditch. He peers up at you above the scraggly top of the brambles.

“Uh,” you gulp and stare at him dumbly. He might think you’re lost. Or worse, trespassing.

His hair is short, only an inch on top and shaved even shorter around the sides. His beard is thick around his mouth, growing sparse across his cheeks, and two vibrant blue eyes beam back at you. The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink away. You can sense the city radiating off of him. He scares you.

“Hello? What’s up?” He waves as if trying to wake you up.

“Um, pie?” You say, cringing at your own speechlessness.

“Pie,” he repeats flatly.

You hold up the basket and blink. You never were very good at introductions. You were the only girl at school without friends. You were just sort of there.

“Pie,” you echo once more and hold out the basket.

He tilts his head, curiously, and huffs. He juts out his jaw and grunts as he pushes the brambles apart and climbs out of the ditchy. His denim jacket is streaked in dirty and pollen.

He takes the basket by the handle, his rough finger brushing yours. He peels back the cloth and to peek inside, “pie.” He utters the syllable a fourth time between you.

“Yeah,” your voice is wispy and small. “Bye.”

You let out a strained breath and spin, keeping yourself from breaking into a sprint. You stomp away frantically, smacking yourself internally for being so awkward. Well, maybe that’s a good thing. He’ll have no reason to talk to you ever again.

#chris #destroyer #dark!Chris #chris x reader #dark chris #drabble #backwoods au #au #series #the stranger

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 year

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Fic: The Birds and the Bees

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Ship: Joel Miller x you (cishet f reader) / Ellie x Riley mention

Tags/warnings: underage child overhearing sex (but it's not weird I swear), queer thoughts, Joel is such a dad, Rough Sex, unprotected sex, piv sex, some mild dirty talk, trying to stay quiet during sex.

Summary: Ellie hears mommy (you) and daddy (Joel) have sex. I guess that's the plot.

Words: 2,257

A/N: WARNING can be a bit spoilery for episodes 6 and 7! Thanks to @rambling-in-purple for reading the Ellie part to make sure it wasn't weird <3

Ellie is almost asleep when something draws her back into the real world, and for a moment she has no idea where she is. Where did these clean sheets come from, this comfortable bed, this warmth? It takes her brain a few moments to realize that she is in Jackson, the safe haven reached yesterday. Today. What time is it?

A sound makes her sit up in bed, heartbeats quickening with growing fear. She had thought this place was safe, but that sound is definitely not reassuring. She reaches for her knife on the bedside table, just as she hears the sound again.

A creak. And it's growing rhythmical. And along with it, muffled moans.

Ellie's first instinct is that there is a fight going on in the next room. A life or death struggle between Joel, you, and a deceitful Jackson resident. Or maybe the infected finally got in? Is Jackson already overrun with infected, or did a roaming band of bandits get in?

Another creak, then a louder moan that gets cut off, and it dawns on Ellie.

Oh. Oh.

Being shown around Jackson, you seemed relaxed for the first time in, well, all the months Ellie had been with you and Joel. It was nice to see you like that, and Ellie wished that Joel could unwind a little as well, but Joel wasn't a person who did that. Maria had taken you and Ellie to the house, Joel had gone to see his brother, and returned in a huff. Ellie, in clean clothes washed hair, had gushed to him about the hot shower, but his demeanor had been so dark that she had fallen quiet. Just then, you had appeared out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and Ellie had seen the looks you and Joel exchanged. You excused yourself to have an early night and took to your bedroom - the one you shared with Joel. Ellie didn't think twice about you two sharing: she had understood long ago what you were to each other, in addition to the protectors, family, you were to her.

But it's one thing to understand that two people love each other, and know what people in love with each other do, and actually hear it.

Conflicted, she lies back down, turns onto one side, wrapping the pillow around her head to muffle the sounds. It's too intimate, too private. It's wrong to listen to it.

Still, the reverberations travel through the wooden build of the house, and she feels them on her skin. Rolling onto her back again, she lets go of the pillow and stares up at the dark ceiling.

It's not the first time she's heard people having sex. She knows what's going on between the two of you and for what it's worth, she's happy for you. There is something so comforting about your obvious feelings for each other, and how they have spilled over onto her. Ellie knows that she was more or less forced upon you but since that night in the Boston QZ, a lot has happened. You're her family now, and she's happy that you and Joel can be safe and comfortable enough in your borrowed bedroom to have sex.

And it is kind of exciting to hear it, even if it's private. Ellie may be a virgin but she's not frigid. The moans she can hear must be from you, and she wonders what it is Joel is doing that's making you sound like that. Not that she wants to think of Joel like that, God no, that's just gross. The whole idea of a man sticking his dick into her feels gross. But surely a woman must be able to make another woman sound like that? Maybe she could ask you. If she wants to talk to you about sex, and that's a big if.

It hits Ellie that if you're her family now, then it would be like asking her mom about sex. And whatever is going on right now is like hearing mom and dad have sex. And that image is just too much for her teenage brain. When the bedframe starts knocking on the wall between her bedroom and yours, she sits up again and bangs her fist at it.

"Keep it down, you two, some of us are trying to sleep here!"

The noise stops at once, and she grins to herself as she imagines your aghast faces - especially Joel must look absolutely shocked.

"Serves you right," she giggles to herself before scooting down and tucking herself in. Sleepy and amused, she wonders what sex feels like. If she will ever have it. If she even wants it. Is there ever going to be anyone that she'd care to do it with? Will anyone ever find her attractive? Her thoughts stray to Riley, and how sweet it would be to share this comfortable bed with her, whispering in the night, kissing, maybe more - but she quickly brushes those thoughts away. That wound is still too fresh.

A muffled thud is heard from the other bedroom, but she doesn't care anymore. Curling up on her side, she succumbs to exhaustion and the soft mattress.

"Shit!"

"Fuck!"

Your heart is pounding, your mouth is dry, your breathless profanity barely audible against Joel's cheek as he's buried to the hilt in you. He was in a mood when he came back from seeing his brother, and you knew there was no point in trying to make him talk about it. Even in a huff, however, the sight of you in a towel was rare enough for him to stop and stare.

"Take a shower," you told him, seeing that all he wanted to do was pull the towel off of you, "and come to bed."

Strangely enough, he did as he was told, but even hot water wasn't enough to keep him in the shower for more than a few minutes. When he came out, naked and dripping after barely having had time to dry himself off, he joined you between the threadbare but clean sheets.

"It's been too long," he told you, breath hot against your skin, hands already cupping and squeezing and claiming. You hummed your agreement as you let him cover your mouth with yours, sucking the breath out of you as he laid on top of you, his broad frame blocking out everything else. His weight on you, his clean, naked skin against yours... it had indeed been far too long for indulgences like these. You remember stolen fucks and sleepless nights in the QZ, clothed on cold hard floors during runs, but the last time you could take your time like this? And even with all the time in the world, both of you were in a desperate hurry. He sank his thick cock into you before too long and you welcomed him deeper by wrapping your arms and legs around him. When you moaned, he covered your mouth with his large hand and grunted in your ear:

"I know, pretty girl, I know, I feel it too, but you have to stay quiet for me."

You whined into his palm, and he replaced it with his mouth, swallowing your moans as he thrust into you with a renewed fury. The bed creaked but you were too far gone, too cock-hungry to care if Ellie heard you.

Which she did, of course.

Joel froze at the banging on the wall, and he inhaled sharply when Ellie yelled out her request for silence. Mirth replacing dismay as you recognize the teasing tone of Ellie's voice, you start to tremble with held-back giggles. With a grunt, Joel heaves himself up on his elbows.

"It's not funny," he lets you know in a morose voice. You raise your hands to his cheeks, feeling the heat in them. It's too dark to see, but your tough, no nonsense man is fucking blushing.

"It is a little funny," you whisper back and pull him in for a kiss. "She's fucking with us, you do know that, right?"

"We're gonna traumatize her - "

"This is gonna traumatize her, and not everything else she has lived through and seen?" you scoff. Your hand slides around to the back of his head and grab a fistful of hair. "Wise up, Miller, and fuck me."

"We can't - "

"I swear to God, Joel, if you don't get me off, I'm gonna go naked into the street and find someone who will!"

Your threat, unfounded though it is, gets him back on the right track.

"Yeah?" he breathes in a low growl, lowering his face over your chest, his tongue licking a wet trail around your knotted nipple. "You'd let just anyone touch you? Let anyone do this to you?" He licks your nipple into his mouth and sucks hard, making you arch your back as you clench your teeth against the moan threatening to spill out of you.

"Joel...!"

"Hush, my pretty," he hisses, sliding one hand to your breast and burying his fingers into the plump flesh as he lowers his mouth to your ear. "You have to stay quiet if you want me to fuck you till you cum. Can you do that?"

Your whimpered yes is followed by a choked cry when he slams into you anew, this time wrapping one arm around your thigh to get in deeper. You hold onto the bedding, the headboard, willing it to creak less as Joel picks up where he left off, doing his best to resume his devastating pace yet without causing any more noise. It's difficult, but when Joel puts his mind to something, he always follows through. He braces himself against the bed and you whine when he takes his weight off of you. You want to be deliciously crushed, taken, rendered breathless and immobile, but now you are free to rub your clit as he fucks you. Your slick walls clench around him at once.

"Fuck, that's tight," he groans above you, baring his teeth. "So fucking tight when you do that."

You stare up at him through the dusk, caress his flexed neck muscles with your half closed eyes as the pressure rises inside you. You whisper bitten off words, as if Joel needed your words to know that you are so close to exploding, imploding, the mesmerizing rise and fall that you so desperately need. He dips down to steal your breath away with a kiss and you suck eagerly on his tongue while simultaneously panting for air.

He almost slips out when you cum, your slickness and spasming muscles nearly pushing him out. You press your lips together, will yourself to swallow the sounds that threaten to come out when your body trembles under him. Your body, so sensitive all of a sudden, wants to push him away, but instead you pull him down over you and move with him, desperate and wanton.

"Cum," you beg of him in a whisper that might just as well be a scream, you have no idea as the blood roars in your ears, "cum, baby, cum in me, please cum."

Your overstimulated pussy feels the heat of his load spreading inside you when your words rush him to his climax. The strangled sound he emits is one that you've never heard from him before, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly to you. His heart beats rapidly against your chest, where your own heart trying to match his rhythm, and when he tries to catch his breath there's only a stutter. He's sweaty but you can smell him and it's clean, fresh perspiration. His hair is still damp, and you run your fingers through it, smelling the shampoo which no doubt is handmade of herbs by someone in Jackson. He clearly took the time to wash his hair, which surprises you.

It feels nice. Normal.

"You smell nice," you murmur to him, sniffing his sideburn demonstratively.

"You do too." He brushes his lips across your face in a light peppering of kisses, each one a lingering declaration of love on your skin. "You felt so good, baby, this was good."

You hum softly as he slides out, slick and seed trailing in the wake of his softening cock.

"Might want to go again in a minute," you warn him with a happy smile that you hope he can hear, even if he can't see it. Joel groans as he rolls over onto his back next to you.

"Too old for twice in one night."

You chuckle, feeling the post-coital relaxation weighing you down in the most delicious way. Once was definitely enough. But you wish that every night could be like this.

"You think she's still awake?" Joel asks, and for a moment you have no idea who he's talking about. You had quite forgotten that the two of you were not alone in the house.

"I'll talk to her in the morning," you offer with a yawn. "Woman to woman."

"And tell her what?" Joel sounds both cynical and troubled, which amuses you greatly.

"About the birds and the bees," you giggle, shoving him playfully. "And what happens when two adults like each other very much."

He scoffs but takes your hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss before placing it over his heart. The conversation is over for his part, so you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes.

#the last of us fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #ellie williams #my fic

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

Text

warms-ups | osamu + nsfw + cream

✬ wc ; 1.5k | ✬ tags ; afab + fem!reader, mentions of creampies, kitchen sex / after hours, alchohol, childhood friends to lovers, 18+

✬ a/n ; i SWEAR i did not rig this one at all😭

There's something about Osamu Miya that sends your spine tingling.

A divine kind of irony, because upon meeting them - you always preferred his brother. Atsumu is approachable to you, always has been. Poorly dyed blonde hair, with big round eyes and a signature pout that you've hardly seen him without. Atsumu is expressive and extroverted - at times deeply stupid in a way that's incredibly endearing.

You've known the Miya twins since you were snot-nosed brats though (long before the poor box dye), and it was easier for you to be alone with Atsumu. Atsumu took up so much space in a room that you never have to worry about fitting yourself in. He fills every place with his presence in a way that lets you hide behind him. Atsumu is like the sun.

And in contrast, Osamu is a lot like the moon. It took you a little longer to understand him, especially when you were young. They were twins but Osamu felt mature in comparison. Embodied a story of level, steadiness that left you unsettled.

(You learn later that this is a deceitful interpretation. Both of the Miya twins are petty and ridiculous - it's just that Osamu schemes it and Atsumu wears it on his sleeve)

Osamu has been a mystery to you since you can remember. He was never expressive enough for you to figure it out well, your exchanges being brief and stilted. It got less awkward gradually, a sense of acceptance settling in as you entered your teen years.

There's something valuable about being alone with someone, in complete comfortable silence. At 15, Osamu Miya felt a lot like an old couch. A place to come back to, with achey feet. A place you'd fall asleep, with your jeans still on and your head somewhere else.

You were there for their many milestones. When they got into Inarizaki, when they played all their games. You were there for their metaphorical break-up as they got to adulthood and you all parted ways to your different paths in life.

You still saw the Miya twins on a semi-frequent basis. You and Osamu were the first people Atsumu always called. Always in group messages and calls. When you finally graduated college, you landed a job close to the very Onigiri Miya opened.

It was probably about then. It wasn't like you hadn't always known about how good looking the Miya twins were. Your friends used to practically beg you to set them up and you don't blame them. But Atsumu always felt like a little brother to you and...

Osamu felt...not like that. But it wasn't like you could process that information at any point. Swept up in life, in teenage insecurity (because damnit, Osamu was always ridiculously good looking too) and in the general awkwardness of crushing on someone you've known since diapers - you tried to ignore it.

You thought those butterflies would die if you suffocated them, so you buried your nose in the books. Grew from a girl into a woman, into a fully bloomed person all in a few years. None of it mattered, because spending time with Osamu always seems to make you feel 15 again.

You don't quite know when it happened. One day of deciding to do your work in a booth at Onigiri Miya turned into many, and it seems like you and Osamu see each other a lot lately.

Osamu Miya is a lot bigger than his brother, you learn quickly. Atsumu is lean from his setting, muscular in a lithe way. Natural agility all befitting of his slippery character.

Osamu, too, has grown in a way befitting of his personality. Osamu got bigger. Started hitting the weights enough that he's muscular, soft and sturdy, the kind you can only see when he flexes. They're both still tall, but Osamu... is big.

Osamu is also, very handsome. Aware of it too, because he usually uses it to reel in customers. His face is different to you. Osamu looks less like a boy you grew up and more like a man you'd squeeze your legs together thinking about.

But even now, you don't understand what thoughts Osamu has about you.

You thought you were imagining it. The intensity of his gaze when he peeked at you from the counter. The subtle touches and plates of food you didn't pay for. Maybe he felt like he should take care of on old friend. Maybe the low way he whispered in your ear telling you "take care on yerr way home," were just your imagination playing tricks.

You only learn it late, taste-testing recipes in the back of his kitchen that it was all very intentional. It's your fault for forget Osamu is the kind of person to scheme.

A little sake in your system has you stumbling over your words. In the midst of your bumbling - all it takes is one, "I've always liked you" to entangle yourself with Osamu Miya.

A little kissing, a little touching - the way he coaxes you is so much like him. Subtle but overwhelming, a full moon in a deep sky.

In the back of Onigiri Miya, Osamu has your panties around your ankle. The warmth of alcohol is bubbling in your chest and embarrassment is rushing through every vein in your body - you want to shy away from him.

Of course, Osamu won't let you. You've got your arms around his shoulder, thick neck against your forearms. Your legs are up in the air, and your back is so hot against the cool metal. All you can feel his him in the air around you. He smells like a man who works, sweat and skin and salt.

You can feel the euphoria in your body to the point it's gut-wrenching, an overwhelming sensation like you're anxious. It's hard to describe. Tacky from sweat, you feel your fingers tremble as you move your hands to squeeze his shoulder.

Osamu puts his hand over it, squeezes it, kisses your wrists with all the affection of over two decades of desire. You feel it all over your body, delirium setting in. You want him so much you don't know what do. You whine, open your mouth to say his name.

Osamu shushes you. His cock is hard, thick and so heavy. He's got hair that tickles your legs. You can feel the tip press into your clit like he's kissing it, pushing against the soft folds of your pussy makes you shiver. Arousal drips out of you, a fruit squeezed in big hands that pick them. You want to cry.

"Samu," You mumble, your lips sheen and your heart in your belly "Osamu, please,"

"Look at you," He says, sounding just as bad as you "Wantin' it so bad. Never seen ya like this,"

You've never been like this. You don't get it yourself. Why you're head feels so blank. Your jaw feels heavy like you can't close it. Inside it's all empty and you want to be so full of him, surrounded by him.

"I don't know," You hiccup, holding him so tight. You want to sob "I really want you. Wan' you to want me too,"

Osamu laughs. God, it sounds good. Deep and throaty.

"I do. Ya know I do, don't ya? Our whole lives. My whole life."

"Osamu," You repeat. He laughs a little, maybe like he's amused. It feels so merciful when kisses you. The feeling of your bare chest against his makes you feel euphoric, skin practically begging for his attention.

"That's right, 's me" He says, trailing his lips down your neck "I'm already here,"

He doesn't ask you for anymore, so it feels like he's reading your mind. His fingers grip your hips as he eases his cock inside of you. Inch, by agonizing inch - you can feel it. The rubbing of such sensitive skin. You gasp and tighten your legs, crossing your feet at the ankle. You hold his back and feel your eyes roll over into your head. Pleasure pulls you apart.

"Oh, oh fuck," You feel your nails dig into his skin, Osamu hisses "Y-yeah, yeah, like that."

You don't know where you start and Osamu stops. It's all the same, one mess of limbs and one train of thought where your feelings swallow you up. Your heartbeat beats against your ribs and you feel like you can't handle. Osamu eases into you slow, his cock makes you so full. You can't take in enough air for how much it pushes out, walls taking shape of him naturally.

"So damn good," He says with all the force in the world. You think Osamu means it when he says you wants you "Shit."

"Please fuck me."

"Till ya can't take it, yeah? Promise, promise I will."

"Want you to cum in me," You admit, shame disappearing as the seconds pass. As Osamus cock fucks you open enough to confess about it "Over 'n over,"

"Want me to cream in you so bad? Yerr so dirty, where'd you go 'n learn that from huh?" He taunts, but it's not mean. You whimper as you roll your hips, your clit throbbing's with need.

"Please, pretty please?"

"Anything for you," He says, and you feel your insides tremble with need - even buried to the tilt. He pulls out in one swift motion, pushing back in with the same force as before. You cry out his name and your body loses it's strength "Take it f'r me, okay?"

#osamu x reader #osamu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #warm-ups #writing tag #wow i havent written for haikyuu in ages

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danytherelentless · 7 months

Text

A Heartfelt Goodbye

Eddard Stark x fem!reader

summary: after his wife's recent passing, Lord Stark is looking for a governess to raise his children

warnings! smut, cunniligus, p in v, pre-marital sex (big deal in Westeros), asoiaf typical sexism (if you squint)

word count: 3k

note: please forgive me if there are any mistakes or it appears a little disjointed, the editing was shaky at best

It was more than a year after the loss of his wife that he decided to take on a governess for his children.

He had refused marriage so soon after, and did not think he would ever take a wife again, and had not wanted to have a governess raise his children for it felt an insult to Cat, yet Maester Luwin had been advising him that his children would need such guidance in their lives, especially with them all being so young, and Eddard had finally relented.

He mulled over the options of Northern ladies for some time before deciding upon you. He'd never met you before, but he had known your father, brothers and some of your cousins. Your father had been one of his greatest and truest advisors during Robert's Rebellion, your elder brother one of his friends as well, and he remembers hearing much of you then, though you'd been younger at the time. Patient, caring and wise as a child. Surely you remained so as an adult? You were also unmarried which meant you had no other obligations nor children of your own to tend to. So he sent the letter to your Lord father asking if you would be suited and able to fill such a position in his household.

He received response soon enough and it was settled upon that you would be arriving to Winterfell within the next few weeks.

Your smile was the first thing he noticed upon meeting you, a kind and gentle thing which warmed him to you almost immediately.

"My Lord," you greeted with a curtsy after you had dismounted to stand next to your father and brother who had led you here.

"My Lady. I am thankful you have taken upon this position."

"It is a great honour, my lord. One I hope I shall be able to fulfil."

Robb was the most reluctant of his children to you, though that was expected and understandable as the eldest. His youngest three, however, were instantly enamoured with you, even baby Bran. But it was Jon which made him realise you were perfect for the role whom you treated well as any of his other children.

It took some time of course for the new dynamic to settle, for you to become comfortable with his children and vise-versa, but eventually, even Robb warmed to you. Even Ned himself found that he enjoyed your company. You had to ability to always make him feel at ease or give him the perfect advice for whatever situation he was put in.

He began to fall for you, which felt inevitable given how lovely you were. But he could not help the vicious guilt which he felt. It felt wrong, no matter how much time passed since Cat's passing, it still felt like a great insult to her memory, and to your own honour, though he never acted on his own feelings.

At least not until Robert called upon him when Balon Greyjoy rebelled against the crown.

He sat in the Godswood, the night before he would leave in contemplation. Many of his bannerman had gathered already at Winterfell with more on their way straight to White Harbour. He did not want to die so soon, though that was something he expected just as he had during Robert's Rebellion when he rode away from Riverrun, yet this time it felt so much closer to him. He couldn't bare the thought of Robb being made Lord so young, of his grief. Of the struggle and strife which he would face and the deceit he would no doubt face in spite of his youth. The idea of his little lady Sansa, or his wild little she-wolf Arya not remembering his face as they grew. Of baby Bram not having so much as a memory of him to place to his name.

He thought of you, of never seeing you again, of never confessing the feelings held within his heart. Though his guilt remained to an extent not as it once had, the idea of never getting to tell you made his heart ache something fierce. It overwhelmed any guilt he was feeling.

"My lord," your voice snapped him from his glum pondering.

"My lady. The hour is quite late, the air cold," he could barely see you in the darkness, the only light emitting from the lantern in your hand and the one sitting near his feet.

"I was worried for you," you confessed.

It was a normal thing to worry about. He was beneath no assumption that you felt the same as he, but he knew that you viewed him as a friend for you often spent hours drinking, exchanging stories and laughing well into late evenings together. So much so that he’d had to quietly had to expel rumours amongst the staff to the best of his ability, hoping you had not heard of them. He knew that it was a sign of the impropriety of your relationship, but he just couldn’t bring himself to stop.

"I'll be back soon enough," he found himself reassuring you.

He watches as you walk closer to him, "may I sit?"

"Of course," he spoke embarrassingly quickly.

You took your seat on the tangled roots at his side, shivering slightly as you burrowed closer into your cloak.

"You really shouldn't be out here, my lady. You may catch a chill," he voiced his concern.

"And neither should you. What sort of a friend would I be if I allowed you to wallow out here all alone?" there was teasing in your voice. He found a smile growing across his face.

He looked to you then. You looked truly beautiful in the low light of the flickering lanterns, shadows cast across your face. You seemed quite sad, though he could see a longing in your eyes has he stared at you.

He felt something get trapped in his throat, unable to say anything as he looked upon you. There was a vulnerability which always clung to you, in the way you smiled so freely, the way you spoke so kindly and could be so forgiving. He saw that in you now. Something raw. He craved it, craved you, craved you near him, in his arms. He felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach.

He craved you, completely and utterly. Entirely vulnerable, bare flesh beneath him, moaning for him. His name, not his title, he loved it when you said his name. Not Eddard, just Ned. He wanted to hear it. Now.

He kissed you instead, a hand on your cheek pulling you close to him. Regret flooded him immediately.

"I'm so sorry," he apologised, pulling away, yanking his hand from your flesh, suddenly feeling quite sick. Barely a moment of your lips on his, so sweet and true. The taste turned to ash on his tongue, however.

"That was dishonourable of me, my lady. Forgive me please. I lost myself."

"No," you grabbed at his forearm and moved closer, you leg leaning into his own, "I... I don't mind."

He looks to you then, a goddess at his side. Meant to be worshipped. It was fitting you were both sat beneath a Weirwood tree.

He feels your delicate hand upon his bearded jaw and he allows you to pull him to you, eyes closing as your lips are joined with his.

He can tell you're inexperienced, but he relishes in it. It has been so long since he'd had any company, and he wanted this. With the thought of possible death so close, he could hardly deny himself you, especially if you wanted him too.

He part from you, breathless, "I want you."

He hadn't quite meant to just blurt it out so bluntly, but can't bring himself to want to take it back. It is his truth, after all. And in this moment, it would be wrong for him to not tell you.

You seem shocked for a moment.

"I want you too," you admitted.

His heart stops for a split second before he crashes his mouth back on yours, your tongues tangling together in some dance.

He kisses you for what feels like hours before he remembers you are out in the cold, and then he guides you back to the keep and to your chambers. The walk is silent and you bump into no one, though guards trail you both outside the keep and through some of the hallways.

He is about to part ways with you and leave for his own when you grab his wrist.

"Wait. Why don't you join me?"

Your cheeks are beautifully flushed, and he can hardly refuse such a welcome invitation, though his honour is screaming at him to stop. His desires simply win over, he is a weak man for you.

He undresses you slowly, pulling away your cloak, helping you unlace your dress as you exchange kisses. You help him with his own layers, and soon you are both bare as the day you were born. He looks upon your beauty, across your smooth skin, your breasts, the mound of hair between your legs. He feels his mouth water. He would turn you around and simply sit gazing upon your naked flesh for hours, studying you like a tome of history.

He lays you down upon furs and kisses down your neck, sucking a bruise some too dark into the flesh which he may regret some the next day should he notice, yet he cannot help himself as he listens to your sweet sighs and feels were hands caressing his arms then his chest.

His lips continue down your body, sucking and licking at your breasts and listening to the melodic sounds you bless him with, hands pawing at your thighs as he further parts them. He kisses down you stomach, beneath your bellybutton and then your naval, before finding his place between your legs, eyes upon your cunt, so close to him and oh so delectable.

"What are you..." your sentence is broken by a surprised and quiet moan as his tongue parts your folds and tastes your sweetness. He licks and sucks at you observing each reaction from his place which he could. Every twitch which you body made and every sound which left your lips. Ned took one of your thighs in his hold and brought it up over his shoulder. His nose is buried in the mount of hair above your cunt as he sucks on that bundle he knows will have you see stars.

You moan and gasp, legs tensing around his head and fingers tugging at his dark hair. He cannot help but groan into you, grinding down into your sheets to attempt to relieve the ache in his cock. He resists the urge to fist his cock in hand by instead pushing a finger inside of you, curling it upwards to feel that spongy spot. You are tight and warm and so so wet. He savors every moment of it.

He curls a second finger inside of you, listening to you high keening whimpers and stretches you wider, and then a third.

"Ned!" your fingers tighten and tug harshly at his hair, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels your body tensing as you climax on his fingers. He licks some of it up before he finds himself too impatient to see your face again. He hopes he will be able to do this again so that he may taste you for longer.

You are worn, face etched with sweet ecstasy. He kisses you with your own taste on his tongue, an action which should disgust you, yet you answer with fervour, a laziness to your motions. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into you, deepening the kiss even further till your tongue is again in his mouth.

One of your arms caresses down his body as your lips part, your eyes hooded, breathing erratic. Your hand trails over his hip before it wraps around his hard cock.

He thrusts forwards as your fist closes around his tip, jerking downwards experimentally. He wraps his own hand over you guiding it up and down as he would his own in the privacy of his own chambers on lonely nights.

He guides himself within your hand to your cunt, nudging it over your nub, toward your sopping hole.

The thought suddenly hit him hard and fast. So suddenly he jerked back slightly from your touch.

"What... what is it?" you looked concerned, eyes wide, braided hair mussed.

"I shouldn't be doing this, it's wrong." It was dishonourable and an insult to such a fine lady as yourself for him to be debasing you so. You weren't married, after all. Not yet, he thought. He could see you at his side as his wife. But you were not his wife now, and you may never be his wife.

"No, no, no! Please, take me," eyes blown wide, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with each breath you take as you tug him down so gently, "if you'll have me?" His chest clenched at such tender words.

With you begging him so sweetly, he could not resist, though there was a part of him still demanding he stop now, for this was wrong. Yet it was drowned by his raging desire which he had harboured for for so long.

He takes his position once more over you, between your thighs, and pushes himself inside of you slowly and carefully. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull at feeling such pleasure, and he nearly thrusts into you as a wild man would, but he resists easily enough for he knew it would cause you harm. He listened as you groaned and your face tugged into a discomforted expression, he felt himself stopping then, ready to pull out should you change you mind.

"Just slowly. Be gentle with me, please," your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, you knees farther parting to allow him better access.

He moves his hips so slowly at first, thrusts shallow and experimental, before his lips captured yours in a passionate flurry of movements. You were so warm, so wet. He knew you were most likely a virgin, a lady such as yourself. That thought only made his feel more hungry for you.

His movements continued as a slow and steady pace, before you whined prettily into his mouth and grabbed at his hip.

"You can move more," you spoke, breathless as he parted from you.

He obliged, building up his pace, pulling one of your legs up and around his waist as his thrusts became deeper and faster with each moan that left you mouth.

He could not tear his eyes away from you, from your sweat slick brow, your squeezed shut eyes and 'o' parted lips. He felt his own release build, but wanted you to finish at least once more for him, so he brought one hand between you and felt for you nub and began to rub at it, listening and watching your reaction as to what was best.

You tightened further around him, legs squeezing at his sides as you came for a second time. He could no sooner hold onto himself and buried his face in your neck and lost himself to you, thrusting without abandon as he chased after his own climax.

He came with a low groan, sucking kisses into your neck, filling you with his seed so deeply that for a moment, he prayed it would take, the thought of seeing you with child so tantalising.

He stayed within you for a few moments, perhaps even minutes, catching his breath and listening to yours.

He presses a tender kiss to your brow before pulling his softened cock from you with a wince. He was unable to look away as he sat up and eventually saw some of jus seed dribble out of you. He had to supress a groan.

"I'm sorry," he eventually broke the silence.

"Whatever for?"

He looked back at you, a goddess much to perfect for someone such as himself, worth more than ten of him, "for dishonouring you, my lady. I would have wed you before bedding you, yet I have not."

"I don't expect you to wed me, my lord," you admitted.

"Please don't call me that now. I have no right to any title after the disservice I have given you," for even thinking of getting her with child.

"You haven't. I wanted to be with you, just as much. I hope you don't think any less of me for it."

"No, I do not."

"Then we are simply two friends having a long and heartfelt goodbye," your smile is sad and small, not one of any joy or happiness.

"Is that all you view me as? Your friend?" he found himself speaking before he could stop, pulling on his underclothes.

"No, no. I... I feel for you. In my heart. I..." you paused and he looked at you, "I have come to love you, Ned. For not only the just and honourable Lord which you are, but for the loving father, and kind man. I enjoy the companionship you have offered me in the time which I have known you, and I have desired more of you for some time now."

He found himself dropping his breeches from hand and returning to your bed where you sat looking at him.

"It is fine should you not feel the same--"

"I do," he interrupted, bringing his hand to your cheek, "I love you."

You leaned into him, smile broadening across your face.

"I will wed you upon my return, my lady. I swear it to you."

He kisses you once more, a deep and long kiss filled with his love, before dressing and bidding you goodnight, feeling wrong to leave you after you had shared something so intimate with him.

Despite himself, despite leaving for war and having bedded you, confessed his love and swore to marry you though he may not even live to see you again after tomorrow, he sleeps well and peacefully that night.

He wed you the same day of his return.

comments are looked upon fondly here so don't be a stranger ;)

(please no negativity, my heart can't take it. I am a delicate soul)

#ned stark x reader #ned stark x you #asoiaf x reader #got x reader #got x you #ned stark #eddard stark #got smut #asoiaf smut #smut #house stark #fluff

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captainmera · 2 months

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He looked into the galderstone. It’s blue shimmer allured him. Caleb stroked the surface of it. “I’d give anything to be alive and see her again.”

this line HURTS SO MUCH especially after all that has happened in ttocw RAAAAH /pos

Ok but seriously it so much fun to go back and read TGB (especially Caleb's arc) now that we've got to see so much of how you build his character nowadays

Man some lines just hit like an emotional train like These are not my hands.” He said, curling his fingers in. “This is my thumb. And my blood. But not my life. I wouldn’t rob Hunter of his life, I know what that’s like.” yeah that whole scene where Caleb was crying in hunters body got me rolling in tears /pos

All in all it was quite entertaining to watch goofball English-man argue with the children :)

I KNOW. 😭

Not me sitting over here all "how can I make this more tragic? :)" and then build Caleb up as someone who flip-flops between trying to live day-by-day and suicidal ideation, only to find hope and freedom and everything he ever wanted. And then the consequences of his deceits and lies catches up to him and he's murdered. And then he's a ghost who haunts his brother and lives inside the hearts of Grimwalkers made in his image ---

tgb spoilers beneath

SO I ASKED MYSELF, Y'KNOW??? HOW CAN I MAKE IT WORSE? oh, I KNOW!

What if he manages to manipulate his way to an unfinished grimwalker. And gets a new body. AYE????

THAT PLAN OF HIS, YEAH? GET A NEW BODY, AYE?? AND VENGEANCE???

AYE.

FOOD FOR THOUGHT, INNIT?

So he gets a body. Luz fights Belos, defeats him. That old bugger's still going and tries to run, aye?

But instead of killing him, y'know.. Because he's done a lot of harm and edited historical documents etc, his victims needs justice, aye?

And Caleb, who blames himself for being the trigger of events for leaving, for having raised Philip and subsequently turned his brother into this maniac, feels responsible.

Caleb, who wants retribution for being robbed of his life. but also justice for Evelyn and the realm he calls home, wanting to be put to justice for his own crimes as well as Philip's, which he views as an extension of his own.

He's in this half-finished grimwalker body. Open wounds and all, managed to stagger his way to the battleground, arrives post-defeat of Belos. And just as Belos is going to pull a last power-move, Caleb's there.

And manages to trick Belos into believing he's no longer bewitched, he's free. They can take down the realm together. Belos possess him.

with this spell I declare the pain to be shared.

and locks Belos into his galderstone heart forever.

That way, Philip got what he wanted - his brother back.

Caleb gets what he wanted - to "save" his brother but also bring him to justice to face his crimes.

Like this, Caleb asks to be sentenced, to be the "guard" of his brother and be his stand-in. As a responsible big brother, he lets "belos" go to court, encaged in Caleb's heart and only let out if allowed and even then Caleb. as both blueprint and grimwalker, has the final say in how long he gets to be out.

Caleb finally gets his peace by going to jail, and can help the boiling isles regain what Belos has taken away from them. Caleb was there after all, through the eyes of grimwalkers, he knows a thing or two.

There's two sentences.

One for Belos, aka Philip Wittebane. And one for his brother, Caleb Wittebane. They are conjoined for now, and the court doesn't agree with Caleb that he should suffer the same sentence as Belos. Though it cant be helped.

But as Caleb is in control, they make accommodations in his cell. Like for example he gets a TV, and a magical window he can look through but not break so he can see the island.

He gets visitation rights, too, and mandatory therapy.

Hunter and Luz visits a lot, and once the Clawthornes find out they're related, they visit too. Old friends of Caleb's like the batqueen, visits now and then too.

Caleb spends his days learning to read and write, helping Lilith and the new government find lost documents!

It is not difficult for him to stone sleep, and he does it more often than he should probably.

To him, this prison is basically just a nice extension of his previous prison in the galderstone heart.

But he dips down to his brother. They have things to talk about, to fight about, to argue and discuss. Philip has admitted defeat and gives the information Caleb is asking of him.

The brothers love one another, but both are resentful. So it's going to take a decade or few to see eye-to-eye. But Caleb is determined to make Philip understand he's done wrong and that this punishment is justified.

"The only reason you're not dead, Pip, is because my love for you triumph the hatred and anger I have for you. I cannot forgive you, not until you are truly sorry. I need you to repent. For once in your life, admit you're not the smartest in the room 'nor the most noble. You're not." "I-" "You are not! You are but human! We are human- We aren't perfect! By god, Pip, I am not the brother 'nor man you thought or wished I was. And you are delusional to think that you are any greater than the next flawed man." "..." "You have done great evil, Pip, and you can't even see it. I need you to see it." "... If what I've done is so evil, then know I did it for you." "Why do you think I'm here?" "..." "You fool." The colourful smokes wisps up into the starry skies. Caleb looks up at the endless moving, twinkling, cosmos. It is not a normal night sky, it reminds him a bit of that Collector child's magic. But perhaps that's just the Galderstone magic looking similar. He looks down at his pouting brother, he's changed form to his young adult self. His face all crinkled up with foul thoughts. Caleb sighs. Another argument leading nowhere. But someday he'd get through to him. Someday he would. The boy he once was, was in there, somewhere, or at least so Caleb hoped. But maybe that was just an older brother's wishful thinking. He did not want to give up hope on Philip changing his ways. Perhaps it would take another 400 years to do it, but they had the time. And it's not like Philip had anybody else than Caleb and the beasts to talk to. Artemis taps around in the sand. "Ah, yes, I see you are losing to Artemis' masterful game of tic-tac-toe." Philip glances at the sand and the little pebbles. Indeed, he kept losing to the palisman. He let out a grunt. "Don't feel bad, he wins against me too. And I've gamed him for 400 years." "Mh." "...Alright, well, good night, Pip." "..." And Caleb left. Opening his eyes to the quiet of his cell. It was a nice cell, like a little flat with no privacy if someone looked in through the bars. He turned on his pillow, his soft and pleasant pillow. And saw the photograph of Evelyn by his bedside. And smiled. What wonders the modern day could conjure, huh? They took out a memory of her from him, copied it, put his memory back in his head and let him keep this copy of her - amongst other photos that donned his walls. Nearly from floor to ceiling, there were photos of his past, of Hunter and his friends, his descendants. Some posters of things he liked from the human realm and the demon realm. But near his bed, like the star on a christmas tree, was a framed picture. His Evelyn. "Oh Ev, he's stubborn." But Evelyn's photograph didn't respond. "But so am I. And he is helping, although a bit less graciously as I'd hoped. But he is giving what I'm asking for at least, with some... Persuasion." Evelyn's photo was smiling sweetly at him, and he smiled back. "Lilith is coming tomorrow, with Hunter and Amity. What do you think I should wear? Mh? Blue shirt? Red shirt? I like the red one.. It has frills!" He got lost in her eyes and cuddled down. "Yeah.. Red one." He closed his eyes to dream. "G'night Ev." And as he slept, he had another one of those dreams where she played a lyre for him. They laughed, and talked, and played in the summers and winters of his dreams. An endless forest with golden lights, her laughter, and his cheeky grins. This dream was a summer. The tulips swayed in the breeze. Caleb liked to think those dreams were her ghost visiting him. After all, he'd been a ghost for centuries, he knew what they could do. Entering dreams were one of many perks. He had his hell in his galderheart, his heaven in his dreams. He was at peace.

#tgb #tgb spoilers #ttocw #mini-story at the bottom #cus I cant help myself

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soursvgar · 1 year

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hii !! i have been absolutely obsessed with your writing every since i found your blog 💖 the way you write each character is just oshshqjs SO good (especially lucifer!!i see him as a hard character to write but yours is just *CHEFSKISS*)

if its okay i would like to request the brothers reacting to an mc who strongly reeks of their sin, i would like to think that the brothers sense their sin on humans so them coming across of one who is just bathing in it would be interesting, whether mc acts on it or not its up to 💖💖

The brothers with MC that matches their sin ♡

A/N: thank you so very much, this is a huge compliment 🥺 this is actually such an incredible prompt and i love this idea so much, it was challenging but really fun! i really hope i managed to convey your intentions with this request ;v;

Pairing: demon brothers x gender neutral reader

Warnings: Since this inherently revolve around the topic of sin there are some warnings, so please read at your own discretion! (food mentions and implied ED to some level in beel's part, as well as insecurity and mental health themes in general, also just basically demons being demons?)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Lucifer ━ ෆ

Pride is the sin used to weaponize the devil himself, a deceitful perception of the self that led to the downfall of many━ but not yours. Adversative to the concept of humility, you exult in your achievements and flaunt your success; you've always believed that preeminence should be celebrated. Needless to say, you did not draw the same praise from others, judging you as arrogant and vain. Thus, a new beginning in a new place was exactly right for you. But what happens when two entities harboring hubris are put together?

The moment you walk in, Lucifer has you all figured out, or so he believes, at least. Your conceit is so prominent it tugs on every cell in his body. But to his dismay, the act you put among demons is the antithesis to the image you exude. You portray a clean, humble image of an innocent human, ready to cleanse a rotten world. He will force it out of you, though, there is no need to be modest, not with him. And it will be exceptional, a beautiful display of your sin.

"There's nothing more attractive than a corrupted soul." He exclaims when he finally earns a scarce chance to be alone with you, signaling you to join him on the couch. "Us demons..." He trails off, eyes skimming over your features. "We can't resist the temptation to taint a pure soul, but when we sense a human with a sin already ingrained in them, it's even more impossible to defy our instincts." Explaining, he pulls you closer by your collar when you take your seat next to him. "Will you be good and start acting upon yours━ or shall I say, mine? Or do I have to provoke you to do so?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Mammon ━ ෆ

For anyone who is familiar with you, or even just spent a couple minutes in your company, it is clear that you are ambitious, and always strive for the most. You need to present yourself in the best luxurious brands, you absolutely have to acquire the most advanced, cutting-edge technology, and you would never be caught with a cheap knock off of anything, down to the smallest, most mundane items. Throughout your entire life you had been insatiable, forever on the pursuit for the next big thing; careers, relationships, you always desired something better than what you already had, which was going pretty badly for you. That is, until you reached the devildom.

When Mammon meets you it’s like he finally finds his partner in crime. It's your visuals that speak to him first, your glamorous attire was the first piece to a puzzle that piqued his curiosity. However, it's only when he delves deeper, picking your brain during your time spent together, that he realizes how deep the sin runs within you. But is it morally wrong to feed into that sin? Will he break some kind of a promise to Lucifer or Diavolo for tainting your delicate soul if he only fosters an already existent feature? And is he even a demon if he wouldn't at least try?

"Oy." He calls out to you from the further corner of the room. "I'm about to sneak out and hit the casino, do ya wanna- like, y'know, join maybe? First few rounds are on me- unless ya end up losing." He examines your body language as you listen intently, and by the looks of it, it tells him that it's game on.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Leviathan ━ ෆ

Veiled under the surface, lies a thin layer of covetousness under your compliments. It's not that you are unable to genuinely flatter, it's just that you are certain it is your wishes that should be coming true, your efforts coming to fruition, not others'. It had been a bad habit that you were unable to shake, forever to be concealed in the depths of your wishful, jealous heart. Unless?

When you first arrived, Leviathan was unfazed; you were just another human, a species he was well acquainted with, and found pretty boring - faultless, innocent normies with their rules and integrity. Once he makes the effort to step out of his room and actually meet you, though, something immediately clicks in him, you are different. Leviathan sees through you, your sin glows in his eyes, responding to his presence as it engulfs you in its aura. He had never perceived a human beautiful before, not until he senses the envy waiting to ooze out of you, and he can't wait to release it, wanting to see your malice shine in its full glory.

"Hey best friend." Leviathan grins at you, hand delicately caressing your cheek as he speaks, his tone soft and mellow. "Remember when I beat you in your favorite game? Over and over again? And completely crushed you? Aren't I so good at it?" He merely laughs as your face flushes, enjoying the anger visibly seething within you at his attempts to make you act out on your envy. Strangely, you didn't mind, and you have never felt more validated in your life. No one in the human world prepares you that being in love with a demon means they absolutely bask in anything you ever viewed as your shortcomings.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Satan ━ ෆ

You didn't want to call it anger issues, but everyone else did. In your opinion, it was everybody else's problem for trying you. You were aware that your patience has its limits, and said limits are plainly easy to cross; it doesn't take much to provoke you and your reactions are far from being controlled and passive. You choose to live by it, though, as your wrath is a beast even you couldn't tame, and you wonder if anyone out there were to prevail it.

He wants you as his project. Satan mentally exclaims. His own little feisty human who's troubled with the burden of a short fuse and fails to command it, just like he used to be. Teaching you to contain and channel your power is an achievement he'll be able to brag upon, something within his department, that only he can master, and Lucifer could never. Except, he did not expect the outcome - Satan finds himself fascinated by you, your reasonings, and most of all, the passion that fuels your intense emotions. Without realizing, his plan backfires as he ends up wanting more of your fire, more of your ferocity, becoming a little too tangled up in enabling your wrath, and reviving his own in the process.

"I said I don't have it!" Your brows furrow, shooting daggers at the blonde. "It's alright if you took it, just let me know next ti-" His expression is calm, even condescending while he accuses you in vain. "I didn't take it!!" You don't allow him to complete his sentence, your nerves quickly getting the best of you as your voice is raised by a couple octaves. Satan smirks, he knows you didn't take his belongings, but he also know you're one popped vein away from turning the situation into a steamy, temper filled makeout session.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Asmodeus ━ ෆ

Viewing the world through a pink lens, you were one infatuation away from losing your mind. No one could quite understand your deep attachments, or support your confidence; perhaps it was all because you are the one putting the emphasis on your wrong attributes. There is no doubt that you are breathtakingly beautiful, and people notice it from a mile away, letting you have your way with them whichever form you like. But then, why do you constantly feel so empty?

There is no way a human can be this beautiful, maybe- even more than himself? No, this can't be, can it? Asmodeus finds himself in a state of consternation. He resents it at first, he used to be the one drawing everyone's attention with his unimaginable beauty; it's not until your eyes finally meet that he's struck with the same bewilderment. But something seems off about this human, do they seem... sad? For some reason, it cheers him up. Maybe it's because it makes you more approachable, or maybe it's because he finally meets someone who shares a similar problem, one that no one else can see past the initial vibrant attitude. No one, but Asmodeus.

"Do you like this outfit on me?" Patting out your clothes, you bashfully seek for Asmodeus' approval. "Sweetheart, with your gorgeous face you would look good wearing even a potato sack." His eyes soften as he scans your roseate cheeks. "You do look good in it though, but... you know that that's not where your charm lie, right?" He frowns when your eyes widen with surprise, are you truly not aware of your good measures? Because they are so obvious to him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Beelzebub ━ ෆ

Food is among life's greatest pleasures - satisfying, comforting and delicious. You label yourself a curious connoisseur, admiring the different stages your food goes through before ending on your plate, tingling your tastebuds. You truly love, appreciate, and cherish the different types of cuisines in the world, however, society viewed your food adoration as disgraceful, consequently causing you to suppress a meaningful chunk of your personality for the sake of acceptance.

Beel is desensitized to the inkling that washes over him when he initially sees you. He's used to receiving this warm, familiar feeling from food all the time, so he's mostly indifferent to it, and didn't realize it's actually you emitting it this time. He only pays mind to it when the family sits down together for your first dinner with them - inquisitive, you eye the diverse food on the plate, only to reject it with a smile. Cocking an eyebrow at the sight, Beel is wondering who in their right mind would refuse a devildom delicacy.

Later that evening, a knock on your door breaks the silence settled in your new room. You allow the visitor in, watching as Beel steps in with a loaded tray, filled to the brim with a variety of snacks. "You didn't have anything at dinner, so I wanted to introduce you to some other local treats, maybe there's something in here that would fit your taste?" He explains, placing the platter on your desk. "Thank you Beel, but I'm not really hungry." You inform, but the latter won't budge. "Well, I'm staying here until you try at least some of them, so take your time. I have no other place to be at for awhile." Your heart flutter at the gesture. Maybe in this new world you no longer have to hide who you are, at least not with Beelzebub.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Belphegor ━ ෆ

On any day, you would take staying home with a good book or a movie over going out. Leaving your safe haven often feels like a chore, and the older you became, the rarer it was to find the time for these moments of solace. Nothing beats the comfort of staying in bed for you, cuddled in a duvet and left to your lonesome. But people continually take it the wrong way, deeming you apathic and careless for not wanting to engage in the same tiresome activities they enjoy. Life in the human world is not easy for a domestic being, and surrounded by all the wrong ones, you find yourself pondering if like-minded people even exist.

Belphegor has months of making up to do when he's finally (properly) introduced to you. His sentiment with you was way too damaged to even acknowledge the fact his sin was practically covering every inch of your existence, something he usually would sniff from miles away. It took a bit of warming up from your side as he patiently waited for you to set the pace, but when you finally agree to nap with him one afternoon━ nose buried in your soft locks━ he ultimately detects the reason he feels so in tune with you.

"Who is it?" Belphegor peeks over your shoulder as your phone lights up with a text message. "It's Asmo, he wants me to go window shopping with him." You sigh, your finger hover over the keys, contemplating your reply. Belphegor puts an end to your turmoil by taking the device from your hands and clicking it shut. "There, problem solved. Now come back to bed, it's cold without you by my side." He smiles, pulling you closer by your arms. "You're a bad influence, Belphie." You shake your head, but he just shrugs in response. "You can call it that, but I just know what you want."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #omswd #obey me mc

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celiciaa · 4 months

Text

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

CHAPTER THREE.

Make me feel alive.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

trigger warnings: suggestive

MINORS DNI.

On the day of Lord Gilbert's birthday, there was a strange tension in the castle.

(Your birthday is truly a taboo.)

(No one says a word or shows any sign of preparing a celebration.)

While whipping cream in a bowl, I can't help but think about it.

(I always thought it was natural to celebrate birthdays.)

(Except for Lord Gilbert.)

━━FLASHBACK━━

Gilbert: Do you want to celebrate by risking your life? // Would you like to celebrate with the cost of your life?

Emma: ….

Gilbert: Even if it’s you, I still feel uncomfortable…. **

━━FLASHBACK ENDS━━

(I meant those words…)

(If I'm wrong, I'll be in big trouble.)

My heart is pounding so fast that I feel as if it will come out at any moment.

My hands were shaking uncontrollably while holding the bowl.

(…No, I have to be confident.)

(After all, I'm Lord Gilbert's fiancée, aren't I? There’s no time to be weak.)

I took a deep breath to shake off my anxiety and nervousness, as I began to move my hand again.

Emma: …I wonder if he will like it.

???: Yes, it’s very delicious.

Emma: !?

When I turned around, I saw Lord Gilbert stuffing his face with a piece of sponge cake that had already been baked.

(Eh? No way! How long have you been there!?)

Gilbert: Come on, don't just stand there and work with your hands. Otherwise I'm going to eat every last one of them, okay?

(The cake will be gone before it's finished!)

When I hurriedly took the sponge cake away from Lord Gilbert, his handsome face twisted into a displeased look.

Gilbert: Is that what you’re going to do?

Emma: If the sponge runs out, I can't make a cake.

Gilbert: It was delicious just the way you make it look like.

Emma: It's not good even if it's delicious!

Gilbert: Eehh—….I prefer quantity to quality.

Emma: I'll be baking a lot of cookies later, so please forgive me for this.

Emma: When it comes to cakes, I really want to focus on quality. // I really want to emphasize the quality of the cake.

Emma: ….I have to make the birthday cake special.

Gilbert: Hmmm...you're a brave little rabbit.

Lord Gilbert brings a chair nearby and sits down.

That red eye of his looking at me intensely, as if they were searching for something.

Emma: ….This is just my speculation….

Emma: Lord Gilbert—— Gil, I don't think you want to celebrate your birthday.

(…It was you, Lord Gilbert, who told me when your birthday was.)

Emma: You hate lies.

Emma: Because it was supposed to be a special and important day, you couldn't allow yourself to be defiled by corruption and deception.

Emma: …..That's what I thought.

(Lord Gilbert used to have a kind mother and an older brother…)

(The two of them must have congratulated him when he was young.)

(It was a warm and tender birthday...and now that day will never come again.)

(All that remained around him were aristocrats representing corruption and deceit.)

(…I guess this type of celebration was completely different.)

Gilbert: Hehe…as expected of the little rabbit, who loves me so much.

Lord Gilbert rested his chin on his palm and smiled refreshingly.

So, I was right.

Gilbert: Are you really going to congratulate me?

Emma: Of course.

Gilbert: I've killed many people so far, and I might kill many more in the future.

Gilbert: I’ve sent someone to the execution stand after I celebrated my birthday before, and I'll do it again if anyone like that shows up in the future, you know?

Emma: …..

It was as if my resolve was being tested.

(Birthday celebrations was supposed to be "Thank you for being born.")

(And it's also a day to hope that "you will continue to live.")

To celebrate the birthday of a great villain who shook the entire continent.

It cannot be done with half-hearted preparation, and someone who gave the blessing may end up bearing some sort of guilt.

Emma: ….I see.

(You may be a bad person who will never be forgiven...but I still want you to be rewarded.)

(That feeling has never changed and never will.)

(I think your sense of humanity is just numb, but you actually have the most beautiful heart in the world.)

Emma: Even if you have made the whole world your enemy, I will congratulate you.

Emma: I'm already a bad woman, so it's too late for that.

Emma: Please don't underestimate my love for you.

(Even though it's your birthday, it's hard to even celebrate it genuinely.)

(That is Lord Gilbert’s position, and it is also the price you pay for taking control of the evil empire.)

(…I've never celebrated a birthday with such determination.)

Gilbert: ….Hehe, sorry. I was bullying you too much.

(Huh…)

Lord Gilbert stood up from his chair and reached for my eyes.

I hadn't noticed that his fingertips were scoping my tears.

(…I hate it. I didn't mean it like this.)

(However, I wonder how many years...how many decades you’ve been denying your birthday so that your memories won't be tarnished….)

I forcefully wiped my blurred vision and looked into his red eye.

Lord Gilbert was smiling as usual, but…

I was surprised to find a wavering feeling there that made my heart hurt.

(No, it’s not. These tears are not for me.)

(…The one who really wants to cry should be Lord Gilbert.)

(Every time you celebrate your birthday, I wonder what you’ve been thinking about until now.)

(At first, you must have felt lonely, but then you forgot about it and didn't feel anything anymore…)

(But now, you, Lord Gilbert, reminded me of my loneliness. Maybe that's why you told me it was your birthday.)

With an urgent feeling, I reached out to touch his cold cheek and kissed him lightly.

Gilbert: What?

Emma: …I can't give you a cake right now, so here's an alternative gift for you.

Gilbert: That's a poor gift.

Emma: How about this?

I gave up on making the cake for the time being, so I placed the bowl on the table and wrapped my arms around Lord Gilbert's neck.

I kissed him deeper than before, and he bit me hard on the lip.

(Ouch…)

Fortunately, there was no blood seeping out, but he rubbed the throbbing area with his tongue.

As a result, I was robbed of the control I should have had.

His cold fingers pried my lips open, making sure my tongue is pulled out so he can bite it.

When I lost my strength, I leaned on the table behind me,

Then Lord Gilbert lifted the hem of my black dress he made for me and forced his fingers between my legs inside.

Emma: Gil…it hurts….

Gilbert: Yeah, on purpose.

Emma: Why….

Gilbert: Because you don't like pain, do you, little rabbit?

(….When you say that….)

The pain quickly turned into another sensation as his fingers plunged deep into the pit of my stomach.

It is like a sign of affection that Lord Gilbert has engraved on my body night after night.

(So I can't hate it….)

Gilbert: See, you looked like you were feeling good.

Gilbert: By the way, we’re in the kitchen. Are you going to stop me?

The wet squelching sounds and my moans became more visible the moment he added two more fingers.

Just as my mind was about to go blank, he stopped and my gasp spilled out involuntarily.

Emma: ….Just…for today….

Emma: No matter what Gil wants…if he wants to do it here, I’d take it all….

Gilbert: Because it's my birthday?

I nodded, then I brought his head close to my chest, hugging him.

Emma: I do not…lie.

Emma: So...you can try it until you feel safe, Gil.

Emma: My celebration is from the bottom of my heart…my sincerest congratulations…

Emma: I will keep telling Gil, no matter how much it hurts, until he believes in me.

Gilbert: …..

Gilbert: Oh, no. I guess I've been found out.

(…. I knew it. Lord Gilbert always has a reason for his threats.)

Emma: Gil is probably a lot easier to understand than I think.

Gilbert: I think those words can only be said because you are facing me head-on.

Gilbert: …It's really a pity that a troublesome man likes you so much.

Lord Gilbert looks up with a soft laugh and bites my neck.

(It may be difficult to wipe away all the doubts that have built up over the decades——)

(But it’s enough to let you know that you won't be lonely on your birthday anymore.)

━━

While taking all the pain and pleasure that Lord Gilbert was giving me, he somehow managed to finish the cake…

After the private celebration, we lay on each other, skin-to-skin as a matter of course.

Thanks to him, my body was exhausted during the daytime, however, Lord Gilbert embraced me with all his might.

All that was left was the sound of our heartbeats.

Gilbert: Hehe…your heart is still beating, isn't it?

Emma: I can…hear your heartbeat too, Gil.

He cradled me in his arms, and the sound of our heartbeat was heard from our chests.

(It’s the proof that Lord Gilbert is alive and well.)

(…I want to feel this whenever I celebrate your birthday.)

When I placed my hand on his back, Lord Gilbert scrunched his eyebrows slightly.

(Ah…there’s a scratch on his skin…)

Emma: …I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.

Gilbert: I don’t mind. I like being hurt by you too.

Gilbert: You could have left bite marks as well as scratches.

Lord Gilbert’s fingertips brushed my arm gently. There should be clear bite marks there.

(Not just my arms. I feel like I've been bitten all over today.)

Emma: It's hard to tell how much is too much or too little love Gil.

Gilbert: Then, let's learn it sometime soon. How about by next year's birthday?

Emma: I hope…you will let me celebrate again next year.

Gilbert: Who knows? It's up to you whether it’ll be your last or your first.

Gilbert: If you love me a lot, I might change my mind...okay?

Emma: ….

Gilbert: It’s just...my celebration this year wasn't unpleasant.

Gilbert: ….Thank you.

Emma: …..

(Aah...I’m gonna tear up.)

(If I'm not careful, I'll start crying again.)

Lord Gilbert laughed and gently stroked my hair.

Since his eyepatch was removed, his facial expressions were easier to understand than usual.

Emma: So…next time, how about we celebrate with Mr. Roderich and Mr. Walter?

Emma: I'm sure both of them really want to congratulate you, Lord Gilbert.

Gilbert: That’s not allowed.

(That’s too bad…)

Gilbert: I don't need other people's congratulations. As long as I have yours, that's all that matters.

Gilbert: Because you're the only one I love.

(I am the only person in the world allowed to celebrate Lord Gilbert's birthday——)

(In that case, I’ll celebrate with all my feelings.)

(I hope that the sound of Lord Gilbert's heart continues to beat next year and the year after that.)

(Even though you are a big villain and many people hate you, I want you to live forever and ever.)

Emma: Gil…I forgot to mention the most important thing.

Gilbert: Hm?

Emma: Happy birthday.

Emma: I'll give you lots of love…so please let me celebrate with you again next year.

Gilbert: Hehe, I understand. I'll let you celebrate as long as you are.

Gilbert: Keep loving the beast with your pure heart, just as you are…got it?

▸ [ previous ]

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

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mysunfreckle · 1 year

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I adore that rather than just "a version of Puss in Boots", Zac's characters turns out to be the archetype of the trickster cat.

The fox arguing that he should be the one to go instgead of the Cat makes perfect sense, because between a fox and a rabbit a cat is the less obvious choice for a trickster.

And there are version of what most people know as Puss in Boots where instead of a cat it's a fox (like versions from Hungary, Italy, Finland and Mongolia) and whenever a fox shows up in a fairy tale they are usually either a bit more deceitful or a bit more agressive. And when the fox shows up in fables they are always big trouble. I'd love to run into a full Reynard the Fox in the Neverafter, I'm sure Brennan would make him absolutely terrifying...

Whereas the Rabbit (usually Brother Rabbit) tends to be more of a sweet talker and a quick liar than a wielder of violence. Although his tricks can definitely end up with others getting badly hurt

Also I'm very touched there was a reference to Nanzi/Anansi the spider, I hope his web is useful to Pib

#d20 neverafter #neverafter #neverafter spoilers #dimension20 #dimension 20 #d20 meta #freckle folklore fretting

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pillow-anime-talk · 1 year

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from the future to the past.

request: professional hacker!s/o whos very skilled in computers and building them, with terrifying abilities to gather intel,,,, also has a talent in making gadgets then time travels to mtp,,,, works for mi6, best buddies with von herder, close relationship with secretary holmes too,,,, how would the rest of the moriarty gang react? would they use them???

# tags: headcanon; strangers to friends & strangers to lovers; time travel; hacker!reader; soft romance; a bit of comedy; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. whole mi6 {mtp}

author’s note: hey anonnie, sorry for waiting so long! thank you! hope you like it :)!

↘ Your latest invention turned out to be the biggest and by far the most shocking success of your twenty-something life.

↘ And at the same time your greatest and most dangerous curse, because the last virtual time exchange program you created, which was made by the initiative of restoring old databases, took you... several hundred years back, to be more precise, to the end of the 19th century and on top of that to London city.

↘ You looked like a recluse among beautifully dressed ladies, children in clothes with long frills and gentlemen with tall hats and gold-trimmed coats.

↘ Your bright jeans, black sweatshirt with a huge hood and hair tied up in a loose bun were a comic image among the dressed-up nobility or even less wealthy townspeople. Your appearance and the fear in your eyes caught the attention of Albert and Louis Moriarty, who extended a helping hand to you without asking for anything else.

↘ At the MI6 hideout William spoke first, not convinced of your presence among them. At first he thought you were the enemy and wanted information about their group, but then when he started asking you about various names and situations that seemed logical to him, your expression didn’t become distrustful or deceitful in the slightest. He realized that this is not your world.

↘ On that day you told everything about yourself and the future that awaits humanity, as well as about their fame in later centuries. You told about the actions of Sherlock Holmes and the Moriarty family, and also that in the 21st century many books, series and films about their lives were created. Of course, Sherlock was thrilled and asked you about everything, and then he got closer to you than anyone in MI6.

↘ For others it was strange that he liked and trusted the other person in this way, and for some it was completely normal – after all, you were a person always smiling and really cute in your actions.

↘ Sherlock quickly fell in love with you and became your partner (not only at work, but also in life).

↘ Over time: days, weeks and months, you forgot about your previous life. You gladly accepted the help of Louis and Miss Moneypenny, who helped you dress up so that you fit perfectly with the other members of MI6, while Sebastian and Fred, with a little help from James Bond, created a new name for you and your new past, so that no one has not developed unfounded suspicions of you.

↘ You also made great contact with Jack, who replaced your father in these difficult times, and with Von Herder, who became your closest friend. You two got along great, and although he did weird things sometimes and had a dangerous passion for firearms, you really had a good time and loved playing cards and reading books in your spare time, and teasing William or Albert who always shook their heads when they saw the two of you.

↘ Zack acted like your second father, although he was definitely shyer than the others, while Henry and Sherlock’s male sibling were like big brothers to you. The latter felt great respect for you, the more that you straightened his real, younger brother a bit, and at the same time made him much more serious and became a good helper of the Moriarty brothers.

↘ Your manual skills have been very useful to MI6; even if at first the middle brother just wanted to use you to help him with his own plans, over time he really liked you and realized that even though you feared for your current life, you worked hard to help them and be their real friend.

↘ You continued to create your inventions as a hobby, and your list of later achievements included the creation of the first light switch and lamp, and even the first screen with the ability to save data on it. For your entire group, you created the first makeshift telephone with the ability to receive short calls, and when you had a little more time than normal, you created more inventions that benefited not only MI6, but all of England, and then the world.

↘ You wrote it all down in a notebook, which after many years found its way to the right people, and they published it, making MI6 famous all over the world, starring you, and your romance with Sherlock Holmes became one of the best-loved romance novels of those years.

↘ Such was your new life, and your relationship with people from the officially nonexistent sixth branch of the British Military Intelligence.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

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Silver Lining 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"So your sister will be coming by next week with the little ones," your mother declares as you stand at the sink, scrubbing away the remnants of roast beef and potato. "You'll get to play auntie for the day."

"Mhmm," you nod, "what about Justin?"

"Oh, your brother's down visiting with his fiance's family. He said he'd try to make if for Christmas Eve but you know how her family is."

You sniff and pretend to know. You really don't. It's all hearsay to you. You don't hear much from either siblings; they have lives, you just happen to be related.

"S-sounds great," you utter as you put another plate in the rack.

"Oh, honey, you should just use the dishwasher," she says.

"It's f-f-fine, this works," you insist.

"Well, what about you? What are you up to?" She leans on the counter.

"I..." you don't know what to say. You need a lie, anything to appease her. Your brother's engaged, your sister has the white picket fence and you have nothing, "oh, I h-have a job interview."

"You do?" She sounds thoroughly disbelieving.

"Uh, yeah, w-well," you stammer through, trying not to give away your deceit, "since n-no one wants to h-hire me in my f-field, I f-found something new."

"That's exciting," she chimes, "what is it?"

"Uh, I w-want to see i-if it turns out b-before I say," you give a tight-lipped smile, "don't want to d-disappoint you again."

"Sweetie, you're not a disappointment," she hums, "I'm always happy to see you trying."

You look down at the sink and shrug. Behind that comment is the inference that you weren't trying before. That you haven't been. The long nights with vivid nightmares don't exactly motivate you and you've been all but blacklisted as an executive assistant. Even admin roles aren't responding. Even if you do get a bite, the job market is drawn out and tedious.

"Thanks, mom."

"Just... try not to mope around the kids," she chides, "it's Christmas."

You flutter your lashes, "sure, mom."

That's what you are to everyone; weak, pathetic, useless. No, don't do that. You'll make another appointment with Lisa, she always knows what to do.

☕️

Well, this is it. A last resort. One of those freelancing websites that pays pennies. It's better than nothing and will keep you from having too big a gap on your resume. You could easily do the writing gigs, easy money for transcription. You apply to a few of those and scroll on.

You sit up as you see a particular posting that interest you. Oddly enough, the pay isn't half bad. It's also labeled as 'may lead to ongoing work'. Well, well, well, now that's something.

You click into the posting for 'Podcast Script Writer' and review the details. A sample is required for application and lucky enough, you have lots of those hanging around. If it wasn't for your stammer, you'd have an episode done by now. You deleted enough recordings to the point of giving up. Well, this is a solution. You can get your work out there without having to embarrass yourself.

You go through the application, putting in your info and editing a draft before attaching it to the application. You just hope it's thorough enough. You never really let anyone else see and hitting submit makes your stomach flip. With the final click, you close your laptop and quickly get up. Alright, you're not going to dwell on it. If you hear anything, you'll worry then.

You try to read but can't focus. It just makes you think of the posting and your application. Oh jeez, imagine you're rejected but worse, they tell you you've done everything wrong.

Appointment! You can't forget that. You login to the app and put in a request for a Zoom appointment that week. Alright, you're getting things done, you can't say you've done nothing.

You put a video on your phone and lean it on the pop out grip, propping it up on your mattress to watch the compilation of sitcom moments cut together on Youtube. Your mind wanders and your eyes begin to sag as the day shrouds you in fatigue. You slip into a shallow doze as the glare of the screen flickers over you.

The distant clack of keyboards and clicking of mouses needles behind your ears. It's as if you're trapped in a bubble of silence, all colours and noised dampened by the unseen wall. You shudder as you hear his voice, the only thing that's clear. Your name crawls up behind the shell of your ear with his breath as his hands settle on your hips. Your body aches as every muscles tightens and your bones lock in place. Please, no, not again...

"Sir..." you try to speak but nothing comes out. He's always tugging your skirt up, his hand is around your throat. You close your eyes as tears stain your cheeks.

You wake with a start, your phone black as the battery's drained from neglect. You sit up and pant, looking around your dark bedroom, the moonlight limning shadows sinisterly. You gulp and fall back, watching the ceiling as the tears rise in reality and sting your eyes.

If you'd just said no. A simple word. Even you can manage that.

You lay for a while until your restlessness boils over. You get up and plug in your phone. The screen lights up as you rub your eye socket and yawn. There's an email notification in the taskbar. Probably more ads for things you can't afford.

You pull down the menu but find ‘Application Update’ emblazoned across the notification. Oh wow, that was fast. You keep yourself from tapping on the email.

You don't know if you can handle another rejection. You'd rather languish in the uncertainty. You've been doing so for so long, it almost feels safe.

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #series #au #silverfox #silver lining #mcu #marvel #avengers #winter soldier

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mourninglamby · 6 months

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MOTHPOOL AU SPIEL

more info abt my mothpool wc au beneath da cut

info for the au (also lionbranch is a stand in name im using while i try to figure out a better name lmfao. its puzzling me a lot. im torn between lionfern, lionburr, and lionlily)

lionbranch is much more involved in the dark forest plot since he is lacking powers. when he sees ivypool there for the first time, he becomes much more wary and they bond while lionbranch tries to deprogram her as well as himself

dovewing is thought to be the third cat because she can still hear and smell from very far away. this isnt the same as the books tho. she cant see visions from far away like w/ the beavers. but regardless, after lionbranch (in this au) flees after he is found out for working with the dark forest (albeit not loyally, instead trying to protect ivypool), holly and jay are desperate for answers and overlook ivypool

ivypool has lionbranch's strength, but since she was lead to believe she doesnt have powers, she is merely seen as a capable warrior. while lion is self exiled, he realizes very quickly that she is the third cat.

jayflight is not a reincarnation of jays wing. he is a reincarnation of moth flight . she follows him like a ghost, though, and can talk to him as if they were two different cats. jayflight can dreamwalk in this au (STILL DISABLED THO, NO WEIRD FAITH HEALING SHIT), and thru moth flights dreams, he sees her life and learns the meaning of the prophecy: the code must change so that medicine cats have more freedom, as well as allow mixed clan relationships. Only then will they come together.

hollyflame sees visions of either a future just out of context, or vivid and jarring flashes of other places in the forst in current time if she touches objects theyve touched (kinda like jays stick but more broad. example would be holly touches some wood that came from the dam from the beavers and sees them)

that being said, sol is in this au toooo. holly still has a big arc surrounding her mental health and her devotion to the clan. she relies very heavily on her visions, but once sol comes and predicts the eclipse before her, she's distraught, and every vision becomes taunting and deceitful as she slowly loses faith in starclan.

the fire scene is much more chaotic. hollyflame is plagued with visions every time the fire touches her, and she can barely see. her and jayflight are stuck with lion as ashfur confronts them and squirrelflight. the second squirrelflight says they arent her kits, moth flight appears to help jayflight and hollyflame out. hollyflame, at the same instant, stops having rapidfire vision zaps, and instead is just cold and stony, both in shock from the fire and the confession.

lion however stays behind! as ashfur begins to taunt squirrelflight cruelly, he leaps at him, and pins his former mentor down. lion is adament that even if he wasnt squirrelflights kit by blood, she is the best mother any cat could have, and if ashfur wanted to hurt her, lion would put his dark forest teachings to use.

hollyflame, jayflight, AND lion (if i were to write these as books, each would get a chapter where its implied they snuck off after vague thoughts) all kill ashfur. hollyflame is the one to give the killing blow, though, which jayflight and lion both take note of.

however, ashfur had already told firestar about lion training in the dark forest, despite him realigning his loyalties at this point.

hollyflame is really fucked up at this point. her parents arent her parents, her brother was training in the dark forest, and she hasnt had a vision since the fire.

ok more to come but thats awl for now ... all of this is still kinda being roughed out soooo may change later on but if i do comics im gonna refer to this post as a kind of overview of a lot of major changes :3

#mothpool au #warrior cats

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papyriasks · 5 months

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Hey!

What would the main boys favourite soul trait that they look for in a s/o be?

Heyo! Love this question

Sans: Kindness definitely. He has a soft heart at his core and appreciates someone who can match that energy, he also has a few things he struggles with (such as depression) and really needs someone who can hold room for him and who he knows he can always find a nurturing and safe place in.

Papyrus: Bravery! (Just like himself) He is super into people who inspire him, and who he can admire as much as himself (lol). He likes people who he can count on for always being up for an adventure, someone who is exciting and courageous.

Stretch: Kindness, he has a huge respect for compassionate people, he definitely has a healthy distrust of humans and appreciates someone who he can know for certain is always holding good intentions and someone who looks out for other people and his brother.

Blue: Justice! Blue lives by his morals and refuses to budge for anybody else, he will always look for the good in people but will not allow himself to be blinded and ignore the bad, and he absolutely needs someone who matches his sense of morals and has a strong sense of character to stand up for what they believe in.

Jupiter: Perseverance! Having lived through incredibly hard times himself he definitely admires someone who can stand the test of time, who can get knocked down and find their way back to their feet. He wants someone who he knows is committed and doesn't give up easily. Jupiter has a very low self esteem and thinks of himself a lot like one big problem needing to be fixed, he wants someone who he knows won't bail on him, and will stick by him during the hard times.

Mars: patience! Mars isn't all like he used to be, especially after his head injury, in the process of his recovery he has taken upon a more slow, stable lifestyle and desires someone who can create a cozy, stable home with him and can be understanding of his disability- and loves him just as much for it and doesn't see him or his injury as a burden.

Mutt: determination/Bravery, Mutt is super attracted to people with bold personalities, people who know what they want and don't let fear rule them. Mutt himself has a bit of a coarse, icy exterior and can be quite intimidating to many, he's super into people that aren't afraid to challenge him and aren't easily intimidated.

Lord: integrity, coming from a universe where deceit and manipulation is all too common, he needs someone who he knows is reliable and sticks to their morals, he despises wishy-washy and unreliable people.

Red: Kindness, though he will never admit this (and honestly might not even be fully consciously aware of this either). Red at his core wants to feel safe, he wants someone who he can trust and will nurture all his wounds-both emotionally & physically. He has an incredibly hard time opening up and very little experience with kindness, but he's lived his entire life with a hard shell to protect himself from cruelty to cruelty- he just wants someone that makes him feel soft.

Edge: Integrity/Perseverance. Edge similarly to Lord appreciates someone who knows themselves and has the confidence to stand by what they believe in, someone who has a strong sense of character. He respects strength incredibly and has little respect for the weak-willed.

Razz: Bravery! Razz is all about the freaky eccentric things in life, he needs someone who is equally as much of a freak and isn't scared of the unconventional. He appreciates people who push limits and is all for exploring in uncharted territory.

Cash: Bravery/Justice. Cash is an absolute mischief maker and practical joker, he has strong morals and doesn't particularly care if those morals align with the law or not, out of all the main Skellies cash is the one with the least respect for any kind of authority and is going to be super attracted to anyone who can team up with him in his trouble making.

Coffee: Patience! Coffee is supppeerr socially anxious, and takes a long time to come out of his shell, his more mild and tame outer shell is often deceiving as he actually has major trust issues and tends to assume the worst in people, any potential s/o's would need to have the patience to get him out of his shell and reveal his more deviant & affectionate side.

Black: Determination, Black is incredibly cutthroat, he knows the challenges and cruelties of the world and knows them well. He's insanely ambitious and needs someone who is just as so, he very much is looking for an equal who is just as cunning as he is and is super attracted to people with a lot of prowess and big aspirations.

#undertale #x reader #asks open #undertale au #ask response #sans #papyrus #soul traits #ask blog

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