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tojancy · 24 days

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‘ Earned it ’ ft. r.sukuna

haunted by jujutsu sorcerers, you come to Sukuna for help. after begging to work under him, he agrees. what could the King of Curses possibly have in store for you..?

ɞ⁺ contains: heian era!sukuna x curse user! fem!reader, afab!reader, four arms sukuna, degradation, praise, cussing, riding, choking, hair pulling, mean sukuna, mentions of killing, mentions of blood, making out, unprotected sex, creampie, suggestion of overstim

ɞ⁺ w.c: 3.6k

ɞ⁺ note: thank you to my favorite @sttoru for beta reading! this took forever. hope you enjoy!

“Couldn’t you just kill her?”

What?

Standing before you is a man that embodies terror—a tremendous body and another pair of arms to make him even more distinct. The name Ryomen Sukuna is a chilling one, so many stories embellished around it. Hearts tremble with fear of each fable. You have heard of all his atrocities, cruelties sorcerers were subject to. But, as you stand in his presence, you begin to realize that these tales barely scratch the surface of his menace.

Adults employed his name to compel sleep, a whispered threat to coax children into slumber. You were no exception, truly. But you were always fierce, a soul unafraid.

Right. That’s what got you into the mess you’re in right now.

“I’m sorry, my lord. But if that’s your wish, then I shall go ahead and-”

“No-! Wait… please,” you surprise even yourself, words spill forth at their own accord. Your throat grows dry at the way both of them turn to look at you. struggling to maintain composure, you implore, “Please, just one chance. I promise I can make myself useful. I’d do anything. Anything.”

An amused chuckle thunders in Sukuna’s chest. It’s a cruel sound, imposing fear upon your senses. “And.. what exactly makes you think a meek sorcerer like you could be of any use to me?”

He’s almost offended by the notion. Sukuna is in need of no one. Especially not you; a sorcerer that came begging for his help. How ridiculous.

“I-I’m a first grade!” you exclaim, “I can do so many things, I-”

“Shut it.” The nearly-amused expression has been dropped, a somber tone to replace that. Your eyes widen immediately, a telltale sign of the terror you feel. “You are a weak sorcerer. You are nothing. Do you have any argument to make?”

“No, my lord,” your eyes meet the floor in a hard glare, cursing your misfortune.

You came to Uraume with hope, recalling a past acquaintance. You had not anticipated the drastic change in her. Standing against jujutsu sorcerers was no wise choice. You found yourself haunted down with no other choice.

Perhaps finding a protector would help—someone whom all sorcerers fear, compelled by their dread to leave you unharmed. None other than the King of Curses himself. If you devoted yourself to his service, showing unmatched loyalty, maybe then he’d protect you.

If only life is so forgiving.

You believed Uraume could help. You convinced yourself that alignment with Sukuna's subordinate could forge a safer path for protection. For safety. Yet, the last outcome you could have predicted was a suggestion for your execution.

“Good,” is his sole utterance. Uraume stands a few feet away, silent unless addressed.

Even with your eyes cast down, you can feel Sukuna’s eyes surveying you, the weight of four eyes is not an easy one. His gaze is empty, one of menace. You do not appear weak, though relative to him you certainly are. However, he trusts Uraume's judgment, convinced there must be a valid reason for your presence.

“I’ll… think about it,” You hear. Your head lifts abruptly, disbelief mingling with hope at the prospect of succor etched on your face. A sigh escapes you, looking at his hard features. Despite your awareness that Sukuna's motives lack benevolence or goodwill, you grasp at any opportunity presented.

“Thank you,” your knees buckle beneath you. Tears of relief flood your eyes as you continue. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You can flee now,” he replies curtly. You weren’t expecting much more anyway. “Uraume, lead her out.”

The curse user complies, leading you from the chambers of the King of Curses. Reaching the exit, you extend a hand toward Uraume before she returns inside.

“Th-thank you…” You muster.

“I’m not the one you’re to thank,” Her gaze is hard as ice, empty as one’s could be. You were hoping for some warmth, a semblance of assurance in a world so cruel. But who were you kidding; you held no significance to Uraume, who had long forsaken her humanity to serve solely the King of Curses. “Lord Sukuna has the highest authority over your life right now. Don’t screw your chances.”

The door slams in your visage before you can reply. You swallow. Uncertainty begins to bubble into you. What if he changes his mind? What if this was some kind of ruse?

But it wasn’t, and not too long later you find yourself in Sukuna’s chambers. You hear he’s beaten yet another jujutsu sorcerer, this one remarkable. It’s a surprise to no one. You hope you’re not next.

You’re even given a room to yourself, one you barely leave unless for food. The concept of running into Sukuna terrifies you.

A loud knock comes from the sliding door, making you flinch. You hasten to it, crouching before the wooden barrier. Your palms lay flat against the surface as you slide it open with ease. Uraume towers above you, her gaze fixed.

“Lord Sukuna requires your immediate attendance,” she tells you.

“I-I’ll be right there,” your breath falters, looking up at the white-haired woman. Uraume stands still. You realize she’s only waiting for you to gather yourself and accompany her.

You’re quick to oblige, standing up and trying your best to dispel the embarrassing fear displayed over your features. With swift movement, you grab your kosode’s belt and wrap it tightly around your middle. You stand before Uraume, who looks you up and down before simply turning around and walking, expecting you to keep up.

Anxiety plagues you, your mind racing with all the possibilities of what reason Sukuna would summon you. You’re so preoccupied that you don’t realize Uraume's route isn’t the same one you took to his chamber last time.

Sooner than you anticipate, Uraume takes an abrupt halt by a door. You nearly collide face-first with the finely painted wood. Recoiling, your eyes study the door. Patterns adorn the wood, carved carefully by the hands of a professional.

The detail on the door captivates you, it makes you wonder if Sukuna has truly observed it even once in his life. Your appreciation of it is short-lived, as Uraume calls you and pulls you out of thought.

“Pay attention or face expulsion,” she hisses before knocking at the door.

A grunted “You may enter,” resonates from inside. The curse user beside you immediately falls to her knees, and you follow path. Her hands lift to the door, which weighs more than yours, and she opens it with a fluid gesture.

“She has arrived, my lord.”

“Very well,” Sukuna utters. Emboldened, you look up, and the sight you’re met with makes your face heat up. There he sits, expression unyielding and gaze inscrutable, his torso is bare—save for the black marks that adorn his chiseled body. On any other day, you would have stopped to admire the sight, but today your eyes go back to staring at your bent knees. “Come in.”

Uraume knows she’s not the one intended, while you know that you are. With great force, you’re capable of pushing yourself up and walking toward the man sitting on the floor.

The door shuts as soon as you step foot into the room, making you flinch. “W-How can I help you, my Lord?”

Quietly, Sukuna hums in thought. His scrutiny of you, trailing to your feet and then meeting your eyes once more, kindles a patent tension within. There’s a sick, twisted desire within you—a desire for the man who would kill you without second thought.

“You said you can do many things, have you not?” He raises a single eyebrow.

“Indeed, my lord,” You muster. The chamber you stand in is spacious, slowly realizing that you are within his personal quarters—a place few may enter, as you understand it.

“Let’s test that out, shall we?” he says with a sinister smirk. “Do you know how to relieve muscle tension?”

“Certainly, my lord. Do you need any assistance with that?” You speak a little more than necessary. But he doesn’t mind too much. Your vocal cords make a soothing voice anyway.

“I’d like to see what you're capable of,” he states, malice evident in his tone, prompting you to brace for the potential consequences.

He gestures for you to approach the curtained futon, elevated on what appears to be several stacks of wood. It feels peculiar to see him prone on his stomach, but it affords you an unmatched view of his well-defined back—truly a sight to see.

Whether he trusts you or deems you harmless remains uncertain. Common sense suggests the latter, though you prefer to believe the former to spare yourself from embarrassment.

A small bottle sits beside his bed, a bottle of fine oil. With refined movement, you pick it up, spilling a fair amount on your hand before spreading it gently over his back.

You work silently, kneading hardened flesh. His unique anatomy intrigues you, especially navigating around two sets of arms. Your fingers continue to glide between the muscles, working your way into easing any knots.

Once your fingers reach his neck, a low grunt leaves his lips. You’re surprised… But even more so, the feeling lingering deep within you is becoming harder and harder to ignore. Your thighs squeeze against each other in hopes of relieving some of the heat that’s itching at your core.

With every stroke of your skilled fingertips, the tension threaded in his muscles ease, all the while the tension between the two of you grows unbearably palpable.

After a few moments, you grow hot. you pause and slightly loosen the belt of your kosode to cool down. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Sukuna, who peeks upwards subtly. He has no shame, raising his head further and looking you up and down. The loosened kosode exposes cleavage, and Sukunua overtly stares.

He pushes himself up, sitting on the bed. Shadows of his frame dance against the curtains surrounding his bed, the room dimly lit by candles. Posture straight, an expression of attendance on your face, you keep your eyes on him and await what he has to say.

You’re dangerous, Sukuna realizes. You’re not going to make this easy on him. His self-restraint is wearing thin.

“Sit,” He beckons you with a large hand. Albeit hesitant, you oblige and sit on the lifted futon in an awkward position.

There is no denying the way his gaze makes you feel. There’s a sense of vulnerability, and a sense of excitement. You choose to remain silent, waiting patiently for his next move.

Slowly, he leans his head in your way. Your eyes immediately flit away, heat rising into your face.

“Heh,” He smirks widely, leaning away. “You’re quite amusing, you know that?”

You grow embarrassed, displeased by the way he’s talking. You’re about to comment but ultimately choose to stop yourself from saying something that could get you in trouble.

Sukuna leans forward again, this time a little further from you. The hand he places on the bed for balance dips the fabric down. “Look at me when I address you, human.”

It’s humiliating how he talks to you. For some inexplicable reason, it arouses you all the same. You’re quick to oblige. Sukuna can feel his cock harden in his pants at the way you bat your lashes his way. He knew there was something so enticing about you the moment he saw you walking behind Uraume, even more now under the dim lights and in the revealing silk. He wants a piece of you.

Cancel that. He wants all of you.

“You have a pleasing appearance,” He tells you, eyes instinctively falling to your lips. “A fine figure too. Why don’t you put that to good use, hm?”

“What would you suggest, my lord?” You rouse. “I’m at your service.”

Sukunas face draws closer to yours once more. A single hand rises to your face, cradling your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “Interesting… You’re not dumb, are you?”

There’s a clear implication behind his words; take the hint, or don’t. You take a leap of faith, diminishing the space between your faces and pressing your lips firmly against his.

The hand that once held your face now rests on your neck, holding you in place. His tongue swipes against your lower lip, prompting you to give him entrance. He keeps his eyes open, watching over you with amusement you fail to see as your eyes are shut close.

Your mouth is warm and inviting, compelling him to savor every bit of the fiber inside. But he’s interrupted by you pulling away for air.

“Fucking brat,” he curses, pulling you back in before you can gasp another much-needed breath. His palm falls from your neck and skims the skin of your shoulder. In contrast to his typical demeanor, Sukuna’s movement is agonizingly slow as he pushes the cloth off your skin. Little by little, until your torso is exposed to the biting chill of the air, shivers cascade along your spine, eliciting goosebumps across your flesh.

Adrenaline rushes through your veins. Your heart throbs as your hands find his neck, the other on his shoulder. Closer. Your tongues dance, and the taste of you is addicting. Closer. His hands run over your bare skin, feeling up your curves. Closer. Nothing seems to be close enough. You need to be one with him.

Once content, Sukuna pulls away. The smirk on his face is enough reminder you’ve got nothing on him. “You’re weak.”

“‘M not,” you retort stubbornly, struggling to regain your breath. “You caught me off guard.”

“Yeah, right,” Sukuna’s hands fall to your hips. You would have never foreseen a scenario where you contest his words. Not without your head cut off before you completely utter your words. But this brazen attitude of yours is exciting to Sukuna, who can feel the pre staining his pants, cock now painfully hard. Just from kissing.

He maneuvers you with ease, leaning comfortably against the wall before placing you over his middle. You gasp once moved, eyes wide in surprise. You give no signs of struggle, though, so Sukuna continues.

Starting with the loosened belt, then the silk kosode. You’re bare under, left exposed to four eyes’ devouring gaze.

“Heh,” is what he says, feeling your wetness against his abdomen. “Is the wanted criminal so needy already? How sweet.”

“I’m quite sure you share the desire, my lord,” you whisper, drawing a chuckle from him. You bend forward until your face hovers tantalizingly close to his ear.“Do you not want a taste of me, my lord? I can show you what no woman has ever done.”

While the title ‘my lord’ has come from many to him, it rolls off your tongue differently. You’re so confident in your skills, and he has a feeling you’re not lying.

“I very much doubt that,” he lies, causing you to pucker your lower lip in disdain. You’re set on proving him wrong, prepared to showcase the extent of your capabilities.

Lifting your weight from his form, you turn around and give him your back. He stares down at you, an amorous grin adorning his face. Delicately, you trace your fingers over the prominent bulge in his pants. There is no mistaking the grunt that escapes him at the contact. The bulge largens. The tension grows. You swallow quietly.

“May I?” You whisper, barely audible.

“By all means,” he responds, his smirk persisting despite the furrow in his brow. Tender fingers slip beneath the waistband of his pale trousers, gradually coaxing them downward.

The sight makes you stop in your tracks; his cock springs to life, a lengthy shaft you’re not so sure you can take. The thought of going back on your words fleets momentarily across your mind, but you refrain. There’s svelteness to the way your fingers graze this tip, tinted with an angry pink. You spread the warm pre-cum over it for lubrication, softly pumping your hands over his shaft.

Surprise intensifies in you when it grows larger, making your insides churn. Your fingers continue their work, eliciting louder sounds from him.

You’re fascinated by it, a beautiful length framed by trimmed pubes. It starts with a color marginally darker than his skin, gradually merging into the angry pink hue that tints his tip. You can’t not stare.

You turn back around, looking at the man sitting before you. The King of Curses with all his mind with a troubled expression, his resolve long worn off.

“You’re taking too long,” He threatens. “Get on it already, woman.”

No less is expected from the King of Curses; he’s straightforward as one could be. A yelp escapes your lips when his hands land a firm grip on your hips, forcefully lifting you up.

You’re placed on his length without any warning, causing a loud cry to break out of you. Tears gather in your eyes at the sudden stretch. You feel him, all of him; thick and long and painful and good.

Drawing a sharp breath, you attempt to adjust to the stretch.

“Can’t take it?” His smirk taunts you. “Pathetic.”

“I-I can,” you steady yourself with two palms against the curves of his abs. “Let me get- ah–!”

Your moan synchronizes with the groan he emits, his hands maintaining a firm grasp on your ass cheeks as he lifts you upwards for friction before abruptly slamming you back down. The way your gummy walls wrap tight around him nearly makes him dizzy. Sukuna is almost sure this pussy was made for him and only him.

“Fuck–” he grunts, head thrown back as you move steadily. His hand grabs your waist for guidance as you huff and puff, trying not to be too loud but it’s so hard when he hits all the right places. Your heart thrums in your chest, body shaking at the euphoria that’s clouding your senses.

There’s rhythm to the sounds of breathing, creating a symphony of pleasure as you roll your hips, pace fastening every second. Sukuna’s hand is light against your hip, a thumb extending to rub your clit in a gentle manner, drawing circles over the soft bud.

“Oh– M’lord– I’m..” words bleed into moans you can no longer contain. Every thrust hits deeper, and every movement makes you squeeze tighter around his cock. Your eyes roll back, and Sukuna swears he could get off to your expression alone.

When a cold grip meets the writ of one of his lower arms, Sukuna’s eyes flee your face in curiosity. His hand is heavier than you expect. You softly raise his palm, desperately leaving it at your neck.

He chuckles. He loves the desperation in your eyes, the way your hips thrust sloppily, the way you claw at his chest for a symbol of control as you try your best to stay true to your words. Warm digits wrap around your neck and squeeze it lightly.

“C’mere,” he breathes, pulling you by your neck. Your lips clash into his with a gasp. God, you’re intoxicating him. Teeth tug at your bottom lip despite your mouth being agape. The moan that escapes you is happily drank down by him.

Humidity clouds the place, shiny sweat dripping down your neck. You’re in too much ecstasy to think anyway.

Sukuna sucks at your bottom lip, his hand moving from your neck to cradle the back of your head then tug at your hair.

You’re magic, the sight of you inebriating him utterly. You’re a trigger, back arched towards him in desperation. All to feel more. How greedy. You’re deadly, bouncing on him like that’s what you were made for, resolve renewing to keep up for as long as you could.

“Fuck- attagirl,” his eyes shut, dopamine rises, and all he can do is feel. “Good- shit– yeah, yeah–”

“‘M close-” your moan is pitched, walls tightening around him. “Ah– I’m– ‘m so close-”

Your entire body shakes, legs trembling and nearly giving out. A harsh slap lands across the skin on your ass, his fingers kneading the flesh before landing another slap against it. You can still feel the heat of his palm even as he moves it to hold your face harshly. “Don’t be fucking weak. H-shit–”

It turns you on, he realizes. To be treated like a ragdoll and pushed around.

“Like that huh?” another spank. “Like being hit? Tch, wh-what a fucking brat”

“Yes–!” You gasp, movement accelerating over him, drawing half of him out just to enroll him in your warmth again. He can sense your orgasm approaching, walls dangerously tight around him. His tip hits your good spot, and you go at it and at it again, moaning loudly as your nails bruise his chest.

A string of curses escapes his lips, neck stretched as your head inches closer, pressing a kiss to the skin. He groans louder, moving you faster on his dick as your pace wasn’t enough.

“Hah– I– I’m gonna– Sukuna-sama I—”

Your mouth falls open, and breath fast. You see stars, cumming all over him. The fiber of your insides pulses around him, surrounding his cock with your essence.

Nails dig into your flesh, and Sukuna’s body tenses. A desperate whine escapes you when you feel the white ropes spilling inside you. Your movement persists, set on milking every last drop he has to offer.

His chest rises and falls, a palm coming to cover his face while another pair sits on your hips. You attempt to move, trying to pull yourself off his cock. But his hands pull you back down with potent. You’ve grown sensitive, so his action draws a loud whine from you.

“Where to?” He sneers at you. “You’re not done yet, are you? ‘This all you can do?”

It’s an obvious challenge. Despite the fatigue you’re starting to feel, you’re not one to back down from challenges. Least of all ones pronounced by him.

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brailsthesmolgurl · 1 month

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"Where's Mummy?"

A oneshot fluff, entirely headcanon based, featuring all 3 of the LNDS men being a father. Requested by a lovely follower of mine. Hope this is an enjoyable read for you all. The names of the kids are based on my take, but if you want to include names of kids you had thought of with your husbandos, you may slot that in on your own will!

Want some angst? Go with this series of mine, tears guaranteed: Damnation

Warnings: Fluff as per usual however, there shall be suggestive themes for this, soooo let you imagination run free :)

RAFAYEL - FATHER TO A GIRL

"I'll be fine. Stop worrying would you?" Rafayel groaned with a smile. "Our daughter will be alright." He walked beside you, accompanying you towards the front door. "I am more worried about you with your work instead. So take care of yourself, please? For our sake?"

His concern made you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "I will be home by evening, I promise." Your eyes stared into those mauve purple eyes of your husband's, only to have him yank you back into his arms and pressing his lips to yours again. Provocating you into a minor makeout session. Breaths becoming heavier by every passing minute.

You bit your lip the moment he pulled away, reminiscing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against yours. "Don't want you to be late, unless you want to call in sick for the day, hmm?" He winked, a hint dropped for you to decipher. "You know I can't Rafayel." Your answer made the man pout, arms crossed, but eventually surrendering to the reality of your situation. He press a small kiss against your cheek and sent you off on your way. He stood at the entryway, watching you get onto your bike and rode it out of the front yard and onto the empty streets.

Heading back in, he sat at his usual thinking corner, eyeing the piece of artwork he had yet to finish. Thomas was expecting this piece to be done by two days ago. But an artist's work should not be rushed, Rafayel being an advocate for quality over quantity. He sighed, walking over to pick up his palette stained with an array of colours, before sitting himself in front of the artwork and continued working on his piece.

Hours had passed since then, the strokes of the painter finally stopped when his artwork is finished. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and called Thomas. "Rafayel, where the hell is the piece of---"

"It's done, you can come and collect it tonight once it is all dried up." Rafayel spoke, then Thomas started to inform him about the upcoming interviews that he has to attend, one for the local magazine, one for an exhibition taking place abroad... Pitters and patters of feet across the marble floor made Rafayel lost his focus. He turned around to find his daughter, Mariela awake. "Daddy duty calls."

The phone call ended abruptly, with Thomas ending his note on 'There was also an artwork you have to---' Call ended. Ever since Rafayel had taken on his duties as a father, he made sure his works are delayed long enough just so he could spend time with his own family. Recently, you had been called on for many more missions as there has been a shortage of deepspace hunters.

Rafayel and you had discussed about the delegation of responsibilities while being parents to a newborn. Rafayel insisted that you should quit your job so that you could stay at home with him and Mariela. Money not being any concern to your family to begin with. But you could not, you could not abandon your duties as a deepspace hunter, especially when there are not a lot of new recruits coming in.

So you both settled on a solution that meets both ends. Rafayel would delay his paintings and take care of Mariela if you happen to not be at home, but your sacrifice would be to not work past evening times. Him not wanting you to overexert yourself and still being able to spend time with you as a family. The miniature version of you and Rafayel clumsily walked over to him. Small and chubby hands rubbing her cheeks in circles.

"Good morning my little fishie." Rafayel knelt down and gave her a hug, a usual greeting for morning and night. "How was your sleep?"

"Good." She replied, arms curled around her father's neck as he carried her up in his arms. "Where is mummy?"

"Mummy has to work so today, you will hang out with daddy, yeah?" Rafayel sat her at her baby chair by the dining table. He took a plate of ready-made mini pancakes and poured a cup of warm milk into a cup. "Mummy even made you your favourite breakfast." The idea of having his kid eating such sugary stuffs in the morning is unfavoured. But since y/n had woken up extra early today to prepare the breakfast for her daughter, Rafayel will let it slide for this once. but we all know he too soft of a father to reject that if it ever happens again

Watching his child dig into the pancakes, Rafayel started allowing his mind to wander. Mariela's name came about while his wife was pregnant, and you had both agreed on wanting your child to have names related to the sea to remind the child's origins of being half-Lemurian. Rafayel was thrilled to have their names being related to the waters he used to live in and so the naming process is entirely within his control. Both of you settled on Mariela eventually, the name a direct representation of the star of the sea.

...

When y/n rode past the main gates and towards the yard, you found you husband, with your daughter standing next to him, waiting for you at the front of the door. Mariela the size of a toadstool next to her 6' tall father. But her big, doe-like eyes took the shade of Rafayel's, a mirror of his lilac-blue mixture. "Hey there!" You greeted excitedly, quickly pushing yourself off of your motorbike and rushed over to hug your daughter tightly in your arms.

"Mummy!" The brunette toddler giggled, arms wrapped around her mother and head tucked into your neck. The hug between the two was interrupted with Rafayel hugging both of them. Three of them within a circle of a hug. "Hi, mummy. I missed you."

"I missed you too, so so much." A big kiss was given to the toddler's cheek and they all walked further into the house. "What did you do with daddy today?"

"Daddy taught me how to draw fish and he taught me Wewuma." She spoke, a wide grin evident on her cherubic cheeks. This made y/n confused and you turned to look for Rafayel for an explanation but sees him being on the phone. Assuming it is Thomas on the other end of the line.

"That's good darling." You held her close to you, legs directing towards her bedroom. "But I think it is nap time for you okay? Mummy and daddy will make dinner and then later we are going to have pasta!" Mariela's eyes lit up at the word 'pasta', for she is a huge lover of carbs just like you. No doubt you two are of the same bloodline.

Once you had laid your daughter to nap, you started prepping the ingredients in the huge kitchen. Rafayel came by your side and hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent deeply. "I missed you wifey." He mumbled into the crooks of your neck and drew circles on the side of your hips.

"What is wewuma?" You turned over slightly, the question directed towards your husband. But his expression matches yours, confusion written all over his face. "Our daughter said you taught her wewuma today."

That sentence made Rafayel laughed, releasing you from his embrace and with him smacking his hand against the marble counter a couple of times. "Wewuma!" He continued his laugh, but mellowed down when he noticed that you became more confused than ever. "I taught her how to speak Lemurian." He said, the wide, cheeky grin not leaving his face anytime soon.

"Oh." Realisation hits you about his lesson for the day and you shake your head, chuckling at how your daughter had the word pronounced earlier. You can't blame her, as she is not a preschooler yet. Rafayel attached himself to your back again, his lips pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you blushed. Despite being married for quite some time, his intimate actions never failed to make you feel like a giddy teen girl.

"Lemurian is already a dying language. So, wifey..." He nibbled your ears lightly, whispering his question quietly. "How about we make one more little us?" His arms tightened around your hips and you felt something pressed against your bum, making you gasped in teasing pleasure. He turned you around forcefully and pushed you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, spreading your legs. "Right here. Tonight."

˚ · • . ° .

ZAYNE - FATHER TO A PAIR OF TWINS

"Thanks a lot, my love." You leaned forward to hug your husband, after knowing that he had planned an itinerary for you to get yourself pampered for a whole day. That includes making the necessary bookings and paying for all of the expenses. Not to mention the extra money he had given you so you may use it to buy anything you please from the mall you would be visiting later in your itinerary. "You deserve it. Given how much you had cared for the kids the past few days as I was busy with work." He leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a loving gesture. "In return, I shall take care of the kids today."

Zayne fetched you to the middle of Linkon city, where all of the activities planned out in the itinerary are located before he headed back. Not wanting to go home to his toddlers being awake from their sleep. When he arrived home, he heard the creak of a door as he was placing his shoes on the shoe rack. Lumi and Iver, hand in hand, facing their father.

"Daddy?" The both of them spoke in sync, given their connection as twins. Fraternal twins, a rare occurrence for any mothers in life. They are considered a miracle given the statistics whereas out of 100 births that happen, only 2 mothers would end up with fraternal twins. And the percentage of getting fraternal twins are way lesser as compared to conceiving twins of the same gender.

Short way to put it, y/n and Zayne have a very special family, in fact they may be one of the few families within Linkon city to have a pair of fraternal twins. Hence, they are very lucky indeed. Both of the twins were named after snow or winter season, with Zayne's evol being the main inspiration. Zayne's daughter Lumi, carries the meaning of snow and light, while Iver's name means winter in French.

Contrary to their names, none of them have any features that are pale as the cold weather, except for their milky white skin. There had always been a debate on which child inherited the looks of which parent, in this case, Lumi looks like her mother and Iver takes on his father's looks. And it could easily be differentiated from their hair and eye colour.

"Both of you just woke up?" Zayne's voice was gentle, going over to both of his kids and bending down to their eye level. They are both 3 years old, so you can imagine how tough it was for him to lower his height just to meet their eyes. "What do you want to eat?"

"Daddy, can we watch you make eggs?" Iver asked, his hazel green orbs twinkled under the sun rays shining in through their sky light. "The ones that are flat?" He even used his hand to draw a line in the air, to demonstrate the word 'flat' to his father.

Zayne smiled, nodding his head and walked towards the kitchen with the two toddlers bobbing behind him. Their standard breakfast had consisted of nothing but nutritious food which are vital for their growths. For their father is a doctor afterall. Zayne sat them both into their respective baby chairs and put on an apron, not wanting to dirty his outfit, and he started to cook, with the twins watching his every move. A few 'wah' and 'daddy, daddy, do it again!' slipping from their mouths every once in a while when Zayne does something out of the blue.

Half of the day passed, Lumi and Iver sat in the living room after Zayne had given them a bath and a change of clothings. They will be heading out soon for dinner. Zayne has never been a huge fan of cooking, but only does it out of necessity. The same rule applies even now, breakfasts can be done at home but for dinners, if time allows for both of the parents, Zayne would much rather eat out with his family.

"Daddy, time! Time!" Lumi shouted from the living room when they heard the cuckoo's chime, hailing from the handmade wooden clock that you bought a while ago. Although the toddlers had yet to enter pre-school, they are both surprisingly fast-learners. 9 months in, both of them had already started learning alphabets, and by now, their vocabulary has expanded beyond the age of usual three year olds. You strongly believe Zayne's genes are the cause behind this.

Zayne appeared from the room, a long-sleeved black turtleneck clad to his well-built physique, his iconic black slacks makes yet another appearance, and his hand held a dark grey coat. The weather was getting chilly and he decided to bring along a coat for you, the colour identical to his.

"Lumi, Iver, get your coats and I will help you to wear them." Zayne instructed, picking his car key off of the key holder on the wall. He had decided to go with the Maserati Levante i am not sponsored by them but the cars does scream his taste today, a comfortable SUV for his family of four.

"It's okay daddy. Iver will help me." Lumi responded, arms held up horizontally as Iver put on one of the sleeves for her light grey coat, then running over to the other side to help her to put on the remaining sleeves. "My turn." Lumi did the same for her sibling. When they are both done, they walked over to Zayne and held their arms up in sync again, urging their father silently to help them to tie their coats.

Zayne did just that, hair as dark as the night cascading in front his face when he bent down to help his kids tied a knot to secure their coats. Satisfied at the way their knots turned out, he gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks. "Are you both excited to see mummy?"

"YES!" Both of the kids shouted, arms raising, a sign of elatedness. Zayne held onto both of their hands, one on each side and slowly walked them to the car.

...

Zayne had chosen a western restaurant for dinner, reservation timing marked at 6pm. Now, here he sat, with both of his kids secured tightly behind in baby car seats. He was parked temporarily at the valet parking, patiently waiting for his wife. Soft piano music was played in the car to ease the silence as the kids were sound asleep in the back.

Seeing a familiar figure closing in, Zayne got out of the car and walked towards the passenger side, greeting you with a warm hug. "I could not have asked for a better day to pamper myself." You sighed contently, face flat against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. A scent he would only use whenever he is out with you, a soft mix of pine wood and oakwood as the top notes, vanilla as the middle notes and cinnamon as end notes. A scent you are all too familiar with.

"Then I shall plan more of this for you." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You must be hungry, I had already booked us a table at one of the nearby restaurants." He opened the car door and you got into the car. Getting into the car, he added. "The kids are sound asleep behind, I will wake them up once we arrived at the restaurant."

"Hello my babies." You greeted once the car door to the back was opened, watching your twins stirred in their sleep, before eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Iver..." Zayne cooed to his son, standing on the other side of the door, unbuckling the baby seats for the twins. "We had arrived at the restaurant. Let me give you a lift, alright?" You had never imagine Zayne with kids, given how cold he is of a person. Not mean and ignorant, but just, monotonous, quiet and calm. Having kids with him was unexpected, but him asking for kids was even more shocking.

The young man lifted his son into his arms, smoothing the back of his son's coat to make sure he is fully covered from the brazen cold wind and he headed in after locking the car. With you, holding onto your half-awake daughter behind in, walking swiftly into the restaurant.

The dinner was enjoyable, with the twins munching on to their kids meals and with you sat next to Zayne, having a delectable meal based on the waiter's recommendation. "The food here is good." You commented and your twins looked up, Lumi smiled and nodded, while Iver, with his face stuffed, nodded as well. "So what have you kids been doing today?"

"We watched cartoons." Lumi said, eyes mimicking your eye colours radiating her giddiness. You assumed the cartoons would be more educational rather than entertaining as Zayne does prefer the twins having to gain some form of knowledge from the cartoons. For him, the method is practically killing two birds with one stone. "Daddy also read some storybooks for us." Iver added in, still chewing onto his food, which made Zayne leaned forward to wipe the boy's lips clean with the napkin. "And we took a nap on daddy's chest."

"Be careful of choking, Iver." Zayne warned, his tone soft, giving him son's cheek a soft pinch. Zayne's lips tugged upwards, there is no way he could be mad at his own twins. That is how much he loves them.

"That is good to hear. Sounds like an eventful day for today. And I think daddy did a great job." You happily stated, resuming your meal. A hand on your thigh made you jerked slightly and you looked over, your husband's smile had exchanged for a smirk.

"It is my responsibility to take good care of the kids." He eyed the twins, and facing back to you, his orbs turning a shade darker. "But, it is also my responsibility to make my wife feel good. Mentally..." He trailed off, hands smoothing up your thighs till his thumb glided slowly over your intimate area. The table cloth a good disguise as Zayne's fingers worked his way to pull your panties to the side, collecting the wetness that was pooled there.

You shot daggers towards your husband as this is a public area but he paid no mind to you. The tip of his middle finger, the one adorning the wedding ring, slowly pushed its' way inside of you, pumping an agonizing pace into you. "And physically, of course." pls do this to me too Zayne, i want more babies too

˚ · • . ° .

XAVIER - FATHER TO A SON

"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" Lucian came bursting in through the door leading to his parent's room, causing Xavier to stir in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed at the loud sounds of his son's voice at the early start of the weekend. The copy of Xavier jumped onto the bed and grabbed ahold of his father. "Wake up daddy!"

"Yeah, yeah I am awake now." Xavier yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other coming up to secure his son on him so he don't fall off. "What's the matter?"

"Mummy said you can take me to go get ice-cream today." His light blue eyes just a tone lighter than his father's when he propped himself up on his father's chest, patiently awaiting for a response. "Daddy please?"

"Okay okay." Xavier chuckled, hugging his son tight in his arms and the young boy laughed. With that, Xavier got out of the bed, with Lucian in his embrace. The hallways outside of the room wafted the smell of noodles and he knew immediately that you are still within the house.

But he was wrong, when he saw you being all dressed up, in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, sitting at the front of your door when you are tying the shoelaces to your sneakers. "Where are you going?" Xavier asked.

You turned at the sound of his voice and watched as Lucian was placed onto the floor by his father and the little boy came running to hug you. "I am heading to the mall with Tara for a little while. She needed me to help her pick out a dress." Standing up, you checked your outfit in the standing mirror for one last time. "At the meantime, you okay with bringing Lucian out for ice-cream?"

Xavier smiled and nodded obediently, taking long strides to press a loving kiss to his wife's lips and he sees her off. Lucian waving his small hands to say bye-bye to his own mother. "Have you eaten yet kiddo?" Xavier asked his son, only for the toddler to shake his head. "Alright, come on, let's have breakfast together. Then we will go for ice-cream later."

Xavier placed Lucian into the baby seat at the dining table and he took off the lid of the pot that was on the stove and he noticed that you had made tomato soup noodles. A dish that you had recently learned from social media. Your first try at making this dish however, was a failure. With Xavier finishing the tasteless noodles and struggling with diarrhea for the next few days. This time, he had his fingers crossed, hoping that the soup would be edible and not cause any unwanted effects.

Before giving the bowl to his son, Xavier tasted the soup base first, to taste if it would be too hot for his son to ingest. To his surprise, the soup was sweet and tangy, which marks a win for your cooking this time. He hungrily filled up his own bowl, before scooping a few spoonfuls of soup and noodles into Lucian's bowl. He also made sure to cut the noodles short enough so it would not cause Lucian to choke on his own food.

"Did mummy made this?" The 3 year old asked, eyes wide, moving in between his father's lips, and to his bear-shaped plastic bowl. Lucian have had a fair share of his father's cooking. The experience of watching his father cook was just as traumatic as eating the food his father had made. There was even this one time, Xavier nearly set the kitchen on fire because he added in some cooking wine into a very hot pan filled with oil and that made Lucian cried for the whole night.

"Yes, your mum made this." Xavier ate his noodles, slurping onto it like a champ. "If she asks me to make breakfast for you, we can just skip breakfast and go for ice-cream instead." Xavier acknowledges his incompetence when it comes to cooking, and it is the only one thing he would not dare to compete with you. he just cant cook anything that deals with fire or electric, just admit it with me boys and girls

...

"Daddy, what do you want?" Lucian asked his father, looking at the flavours that was on display. "Do you want the blue one? Or the green one? Or the red one?" He swung his short legs back and forth, all the while sitting on Xavier's shoulders. The little one did not feel like walking earlier on and that was why Xavier gave him a lift on his shoulders.

"Which one would you like kiddo?" Xavier smiled politely at the waitress behind the counter and the waitress returned the smile, a blush coming onto her face. Who would not blush at the sight of a good looking young man with a son that looks just exactly like him? "How about the blue and red one?"

"Okay!" The young boy excitedly agreed, watching the process of the ice-creamed getting scooped out of the canister and placed onto a cone. Xavier slowly lowered his son down and held onto the hand of the young boy before making the payment at the counter. "Thank you!" Lucian spoke to the cashier when the ice-cream was handed to him and they both took a seat by the window in the store, facing the streets.

Xavier had always wanted a boy, the sole purpose being he could train the son well enough so you can be protected. You were not buying into his idea to begin with but the moment you found out that you were pregnant with a boy, Xavier could not be more than glad. He was so happy to the point he said. "We should name him Lucian, as he shall be the light in our lives." Xavier's words touched your heart and since then, Lucian has been the light in both of your hearts. just like you are the light in OUR HEARTS hello?

The young boy took a lick out of the blue ice-cream, then switched to the red ice-cream and took another lick. Seeing his tongue turning purple, Xavier pointed at his son. "Your tongue is turning purple because of the ice-cream, kiddo." Taking his phone out, he took a picture of Lucian with his purple tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then sent the picture to you, with the caption 'Brain Freeze'.

"Daddy, here." Lucian stretched his arm out, the ice cream in hand and held it in front of his father's face. Xavier took it as an invitation and he took a big bite out of the ice-cream. His action made the young boy flabbergasted, mouth forming an 'O' when he realised that his father just bit off a whole chunk and now he is left with a few more lick of ice cream.

The son's intense gaze at the ice-cream made Xavier felt guilty that he took such a huge bite. His son was not much a naggy child, but he still would not want to upset his little boy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I can---" He wanted to offer to buy the boy another ice-cream but Lucian only laughed, his tone amused.

"That is so funny daddy, when you go AHHH---" Lucian mimicked the way Xavier bit the ice-cream, mouth widely opened and face all crinkled up to show just how big of a bite Xavier had conducted. His son's reaction made Xavier laughed as well, Never knowing his son has such a sense of humour.

The door opened, chiming of the bells at the door could be heard and Xavier looked up, seeing you walking in with a bag in your hands. "Hey boys!" You called out and Lucian turned in his seat and called out to you, arms opened and waiting for you to hug him. Xavier took the ice-cream out of his son's hand so he would not dirty your shirt and he stood up, taking his place to stand next to you.

"How was the outing with Tara?" Xavier took the bag from you and pulled a chair over from the other table as you set your son back down onto his chair. The ice-cream that your husband was holding previously was returned to its rightful owner.

"It was eventful. We only managed to find the dress she wanted at the highest floor." You fanned yourself, sweat beading at your forehead. Your husband took a piece of tissue out of the tissue holder and he dabbed it across your forehead, not wanting to ruin your makeup since you are still on an outing with him. "Thanks a lot."

"No problem." Xavier purposely avoided your gaze, hiding his smile. "The tomato-based noodle soup you made this morning is very good by the way. I enjoyed every bite of it." He complimented, looking over to his son and noticing the young boy, staring out of the window, in the direction of two kids playing by the park, chasing one another.

"Daddy, mummy." Your son's voice beckoned the both of you to turn your heads to face him. His stubby little fingers pressed against the window, pointing towards the two kids at the park. "Can I have a brother?" The way he phrased the questions sounded like siblings could be bought off of a shelf. Your jaw dropped.

But Xavier was expecting this, expecting the fact he would not just settle for one child. He loves you so much, not only as his lover, but he also loves the way you look, with your stomach bulging during the days you are pregnant, carrying a miniature version of him inside. And not to mention, he enjoys the process of giving you a baby. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant again, his cerulean eyes catch yours, similar to a gaze of a predator awaiting to jump onto its prey. He reached his hand out to take yours on the table, giving it a small squeeze of comfort.

"Of course you can." Xavier's gaze darkened, hungry for intimacy. He dragged his fingertips up and down your arms, and stopping right at the back of your hand to draw mindless circles on it. Doing all that without getting his eyes off of you. "Daddy will not stop until you get a brother."

Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected, the toughest part was to find the pictures that would match the faces of the kids and also having to do research for their names and figuring our scenarios that would make the fathers take care of their kids. Other than Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier are going to be out most of the time due to their work!

But I had fun creating this piece, hope you guys enjoyed this! Lots of love <3

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #fluffy #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel sfw #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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feirceangel · 2 months

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Imagine | Mine (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd discovering that someone has dared to harm what’s his.

Word Count: 1,574

Warnings: possessive!Feyd, objectification, blood, murder, (Feyd is his own psychotic warning in himself to be honest.)

Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is not known for his mercy.

Ask anyone in the universe who has heard even a whisper of House Harkonnen, and they will warn to tread carefully when dealing with them. If you value your life, you wouldn't even get near them.

And everyone knows Feyd-Rautha is one of the best examples of Harkonnen rage and violence, second only to his uncle, the Baron.

Renowned for his physical prowess as a fighter, his insatiable lust for blood and death, and his determination to rise in power and favour, he is a force to be reckoned with.

So why would anyone dare go against him?

He finds himself asking this as he looks upon your form, head bowed and turned slightly away from him. Hiding something.

Gracefully and predatory as a panther, he approaches you slowly.

"My darling.." his voice rasps.

Normally you greet him immediately, recognizing his footfalls from down the hall. You would smile at your na-Baron and ask him how his day went if you did not spend it with him.

You are oddly subdued tonight.

His eyes, always searching, follow a drop which falls from your cheek, landing on the cold concrete floor. Instantly, he is before you, grasping your chin in his strong hand. He tilts your head up, none too gently, and examines your tear-stained face.

"What happened?" His already raspy voice is deeper, darker.

Feyd is no stranger to your tears. In fact, he often revels in their presence, trying all sorts of things to make you cry. But he hasn't done anything to illicit that response today.

When you don't offer an answer right away, his grip tightens, squishing your cheeks together.

"Speak."

His voice holds no room for disobedience. You nod your head and he releases you, stepping back slightly.

You shake slightly as you begin, "I am sorry, na-Baron."

Feyd's anger is growing. You only call him that in public or when you are disturbed.

"Do not apologize. Explain," he can't stop himself from hissing.

"I took a walk today," you begin slowly. "Just to the training grounds to see if you were there. But I didn't see you so I walked back. He stopped me and-"

"'He'?" Feyd echoes.

"Richter," you supply the name of one of the Baron's top generals. "He grabbed me and said I was a no-good whore who should've been disposed of long ago."

Anger swirls with Feyd's chest at this news. Of course, many people have said harsh and often cruel things to you. But you always kept your head high and ignored the jabs. You’re always so strong.

This is different, he can tell.

"What else? You are not one to cry over a mere insult," he brings his hand up to swipe a tear from your soft cheek. You lean into his touch, relishing in its familiarity.

You inhale deeply, "He struck me without warning, na-Baron."

In his oft colourless word, all Feyd now sees is red.

"Where?" His voice is so low it's almost impossible to hear.

You shake as you lower the collar of your dress to reveal a swollen area on your shoulder, "Here."

His dark eyes flicker to yours, bidding you to continue.

You move your hand to your face and gently touch your tearstained cheek, "And here."

Feyd's hand clenches into a fist. He bends closer to examine your face, noting the slight swelling and the way you bow your head. He places his hand on the back of your head, angling your face upwards. A featherlight kiss is applied to your skin so softly you can barely feel it.

Your master and lover rises to his full height, "Rest my darling, I shall return shortly."

He turns to leave but you reach out and grab his arm. Feyd stops and turns to stare at you.

"Please, na-Baron. Don't hurt him."

He scowls at your request, "He has hurt you. Death is his reward."

"He has done nothing that you have not," you say. "I have known worse pain from your own hands.”

Feyd shakes his head and grips your arms, dragging you forward to stand with your bodies touching.

"Only I can touch what's mine. Only I can hurt you how I see fit. You take the pain only I give you." He dips his head close to your ear, breath sending shivers down your spine. “Do you understand?”

"Of course, my lord na-Baron," your voice is breathy.

You are intoxicated by his closeness, the dangerous poise with which he caries himself, the possessiveness of his words and the truth of them.

"Say it."

"I'm yours alone, Feyd."

He crashes his lips onto yours, teeth clashing and lips bruising from the force of it. His hand squeezes your neck as he kisses you. When he finally parts, leaving you breathless, he takes a moment to admire you. His thumb brushes against your lips before he turns once more.

"That swine sealed his fate when he laid hands on what's mine," Feyd growls as he stalks out of the room.

He returns mere minutes later, dragging an incredibly nervous Richter behind him. With a violent shove, he pushes the frightened man to stand before you.

"I heard you disrespected my darling," Feyd points to the floor. "Kneel."

Richter obeys without hesitation. He knows how quick Feyd is to anger… and how few survive it.

"Kiss her shoe."

The man's eyes flicker to yours.

"Now," Feyd places his foot on Richter's back, forcing him down.

Shakily, he presses his lips to your shoe with a mumbled apology. It does nothing to sate Feyd-Rautha's wrath.

With practised ease, Feyd lands a harsh kick to the man's ribs. He repeats the action until the man is a sobbing mess splayed before your feet like an offering.

You regard him coldly, remembering the bite of his hand across your face.

“Please! Please forgive me, my lord!” Richter manages to sob coherent words. Spit and blood dribbles from his mouth pathetically.

“You have insulted me,” Feyd states. “Hurt what’s mine, belittled what’s mine.”

The man’s hand reaches towards your foot, as if you could spare him from the savage that is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

Feyd crushes his hand beneath his shoe, grinding down eliciting a whimper of pain, as he steps before you and above his prey.

He is regal in his violence, eyes shining with possessive obsession.

“Dear one,” he places his hand on your arm before handing you one of his blades. “Help me.”

He smirks as you grip the knife tightly. Your eyes meet his.

Feyd knows you’d do anything he asked of you, just as he knows he’d burn the universe to ashes if you asked him too.

“Of course, my lord,” you say, kneeling by the hurt man. “If it pleases you.”

Feyd’s grin reveals blackened teeth, “You please me, dearest. Now, make him suffer for insulting me and mine.”

The first cut is shallow, uncertain as it travels down the man’s bare arm. Feyd tsks his disapproval.

You adjust your grip and slash again, quickly this time, hitting deep and pointedly. The man screams out and thrashes, but Feyd is upon him in a second. He holds Richter still as you unleash your rage upon him.

Feyd watches you draw blood with a pleasure he’s never experienced before. Relishing in your bared teeth and angry snarls, he commits this to his memory.

He halts your hand as the man ceases his thrashing. With a predatory smile, Feyd guides your hand with his, penetrating the blade deep into the man’s throat.

You watch the man loose his life, as you pant with exertion.

“You have done well, my pet,” Feyd praises, removing the knife from your hand and tossing it aside. He places his hand atop your head.

“Thank you, Feyd.”

He moves his hand down your back and presses his face into your blood stained neck, inhaling deeply. Your hands come around to grasp his shoulders, bringing him close to you. He wraps his strong arms around you, holding you like a lover would.

When he sits up, you lunge forward, capturing his lips with yours. Ignoring the blood and the dead body on the floor, you guide Feyd towards the bed, hands leaving bloody marks on his pale skin.

“Please let me repay you,” you beg, tugging at his shirt. “Allow me to repent.”

“You don’t need to repent, love. But you can keep begging.”

He allows you to disrobe him and press him down onto the soft bedding.

In all honesty, Feyd craves this battle of dominance between you. He could overpower you in an instant, yet the hold you have over him has him bending to your will.

You need only beg and he would take a knee and worship at your feet.

And you know it.

You know he craves this, needs it like an addict. He adores the pain you can lavish upon him, adores the meek demeanour you show to everyone else, adores the side of you that matches his own carnal desires tenfold, adores the way you gladly bleed for him.

He adores you.

And you worship each other in a wicked ritual of blood, sweat, and tears each night.

And he’d never let anyone take this away from him- take you away from him.

He’d kill anyone who dared try.

~~~

[A/n- thanks for reading! Please let me know if you liked it :)]

#dune #dune part 2 #feyd x you #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #reader insert #imagine #dune part ii #feyd rautha harkonnen #fanfic #feyd rautha Harkonnen x reader #one shot #possessive feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune x reader

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lujingheswife · 6 months

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eyes of silver and gold

soulmate au! everyone has heterochromia, one eye is your natural colour the other is your soulmate’s natural colour. once you meet eye contact, all eyes return to its natural colour.

featuring: neuvillette

word count: 1075

cw: soulmate!au, reader is a liyue adeptus, gn!reader, reader’s eyes are GOLD because GOLD, traveler can be lumine or aether (they/them pronouns), intentional lowercase, not proofread

author’s notes: super duper rushed IM SORRY,,,, this could be written better but yeah 😭😭 i’ll do better next time !!! (i love soulmate aus)

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

neuvillette blinked at the reflection of himself on the mirror for the nth time. it was not the first time he had done so, but every time he observed the eyes of the citizens of fontaine it made him question what made his soulmate so special.

because one thing for sure, he was almost certain his soulmate was not human.

the chief justice knew the eyes of a human when he sees one. their round iris, and the common eye colours of brown or blue could easily tell that they’re merely human.

however, his soulmate’s eye replacing his left one did not look like the eyes of a human. it was an unnatural colour, usually similar to the eye colours of those who wield a vision. what caught his attention though, was the pattern of his soulmate’s eye that stood out amongst the others. like how his eyes are of a dragon’s, and lady furina’s eyes are of dewdrops, his soulmate’s eye, igniting a warm colour, shouted gold.

the first thing he had in mind was the land of gold where the geo element usurper resided. he knew liyue was a land of the adepti, where many immortals who once battled in the archon war still lived in the mountains of amber.

yet for centuries living as the hydro dragon, he had never once encountered his soulmate.

was it because of the distance between them? it was understandable, after all, for an adeptus to remain loyal to their homeland.

he had visited liyue a few times but failed to find this soulmate of his. maybe they were not residing in liyue after all?

neuvillette chose to let fate decide.

he heaved a small sigh as he turned away from the mirror, back to his office desk to continue checking the documents for the next trial.

“monsieur neuvillette!” a loud, squeaky voice which he knew belonged to a certain floating alien chimed through the door. he watched as surprisingly, only paimon, flew her way into his office with an excited expression.

he blinked confusedly at her unusual demeanour. “miss paimon,” he called, “how may i assist you today?”

he allowed her to take her time as she panted heavily. “your—“ she looked up at him and he swore he saw her eyes sparkling a lot brighter than usual. “my?” he asked.

“soulmate! we found your soulmate!! they’re outside!” paimon exclaimed excitedly.

neuvillette’s world stopped for a millisecond, for he had not known that his soulmate had just traveled kilometres from the southern liyue to the northern fontaine. he did not realize his legs moved on his own, allowing paimon to drag him by the sleeve towards the outside of the opera house.

“monsieur?” he heard paimon called before snapping himself out of his thoughts. he noticed her looking at him in concern, realizing he had stopped his tracks right by the door. “are you okay?” she asked.

is he okay? he wondered the same.

he felt an uncomfortable feeling in his chest, as if someone— or something, was banging the drums inside. he felt the drums getting louder and faster, and he could not feel his legs anymore.

he inhaled sharply. “i’m perfectly fine, miss paimon,” he paused in between, “well, let’s meet my… soulmate, shall we?”

his gaze turned towards the entrance of the door, sensing the melusine looking at him eagerly as she patiently waited for him to get ready. “monsieur neuvillette! are you going out?” she asked.

he nodded. “yes, i am. thank you very much.”

the melusine by the door clapped her hands excitedly as she immediately skipped towards the door knob before opening it for him. “well then, enjoy meeting them, monsieur!”

neuvillette watched the door opens before the light outside instantly came greeting him in an embrace.

and the first thing that entered his vision was a pair of heterochromatic eyes that matches his.

you were there with the traveler, dressed in foreign attire not befitting of fontaine. your vision clinging onto your waist like a proud medal. you were by the entrance, surrounded by melusines who were saying how your eyes match their chief justice. he watched how your confused expression tries to have a conversation with the little melusines while the traveler laughed next to you.

the cute moment did not last when the melusines notice the presence of their chief justice, immediately rushing towards him excitedly wanting to ask him about his soulmate. yet his widened eyes had locked with yours, watching your eye adorned with his blueish-purple colour slowly changing back to gold— the familiar gold that greeted him every morning in front of the mirror.

“monsieur neuvillette! your eyes!” he heard a melusine exclaimed, their hands holding his sleeve as they jumped happily.

he blinked confusedly at the tugs of his sleeves when a melusine appeared with a mirror in their hands. they showed a reflection of himself where his eyes were back to his original form— the mixture of silver, blue and purple.

he averted his attention to his soulmate who seemed to be doing the same. you were looking at your own reflection, realizing your eye has reverted to its original form. he watched your surprised expression until you noticed his attention had diverted towards you.

your flushed expressions felt a little foreign to the iudex of fontaine, but he was certainly relieved at the sight of your comfortable state in a foreign region.

he gave you a sincere smile as he placed a hand over his chest as a form of greeting.

“greetings. i’m neuvilette, chief justice and iudex of fontaine. it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

since birth, neuvillette never understood the concept of soulmates until he was given a chance to experience such phenomenon. from when he had awoken to a change in his appearance to encountering the partner that was given to him by fate, it was a surprise that a being like him could have one too.

in fact, his own soulmate was not mortal either. an adeptus originating from the land of gold, you began your exploration in the continent with the fellow traveler when they could not stop persuading you to follow them to meet someone.

a smile was formed on your lips in return as you introduced your name to him, which sounded nice to his ears. “and it’s a pleasure to meet you too, mister neuvillette.”

maybe he could give this concept a try.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette imagine #i love neuvillette

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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months

Note

I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??

anyway

Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”

“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*

“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks

"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.

Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.

"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"

Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."

"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.

How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?

"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"

Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."

Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."

Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.

And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.

The perfect heir.

It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.

"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."

"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"

"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."

"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.

The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.

"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.

He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."

"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.

"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.

Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.

It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.

"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.

"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.

"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"

"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.

A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.

He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"

"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."

"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.

"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"

"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.

Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.

"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.

Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.

"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.

His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #The Audit #Damian's cool uncle Danny #In which Danny was reborn as Daniel Al Ghul four hundred and ten years ago as Ra's first born son #Then went all Ghost King on him #and now travels the world making sure kid's safety laws are followed #Sorry I know it's not what you were picturing but it's all I could think of.

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dancingbirdie · 4 months

Text

This is by far the horniest, most deplorable thing I've ever written. Not sorry for it. Hope you enjoy! Please pay attention to the tags - we've got some new stuff happening in this one.

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

Earned It

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader x Halsin

Word Count: 1K

Tags/Warnings: vaginal penetration, vaginal fingering, total body control, dom/sub vibes, plotless smut, porn without plot

Summary: Astarion and Halsin use you as a plaything for their own (and your) enjoyment.

*****

“Wicked thing,” Astarion cooed in your ear, voice pitched barely above a whisper.

Squeezing your hips, he angled you down deeper, sheathing you onto Halsin. You let loose a breathy whine at the sensation, the sheer size of your other lover.

“Sweet one,” the druid amended in a growl, thrusting up into you with gusto.

Straddling his lap, you collapsed your head onto his shoulder, lost in the sensations inside and around you. Your pliant form allowed Astarion to continue pumping you up and down, up and down, in long, languid strokes. As he maneuvered you, Halsin clutched the back of your head with a tenderness that was completely at odds with the ferocity in which you were being pistoned on top of him. It caused you to mewl languidly, too overstimulated to muster much else.

This had all been Astarion’s idea (of course it had), to use you like this, a plaything for your two lovers to share. You didn’t mind in the least. To be surrounded by both elves, one fucking into you while the other manipulated your body like a marionette on strings? It was deliciously sinful. You were all too willing to relinquish control of yourself into their capable hands, and bodies.

Movement, and a wanton moan by your head, caused you to shift and blink your eyes open toward the sound. You hadn’t thought it possible to become even more aroused than you already were. That was until you saw the marvel that was Halsin and Astarion locked in a heated, open-mouthed kiss. Even as they continued using your body, Astarion never missing a beat as he slid you up and down Halsin’s length.

You watched hungrily as Halsin fisted Astarion’s curls and pulled him in closer, rocking you up against his chest in the process. You whined pitifully as the movement hit some deeper part within you, the feeling akin to the sensation of stroking your clit. Seeing their tongues dance, hearing their muffled groans as they ravaged each other’s mouths, it was almost enough to send you spiraling into release.

You subconsciously wiggled against them both, itching to find some way to put more pressure on your clit without interrupting their heated embrace.

Astarion was the first to break away from the kiss, however. Recognizing your telltale squirming, he grinned wickedly down at you as his fingers dug a little deeper into the skin of your hips, halting you from moving at all. You whined again, desperate to feel more, not less.

“Tsk, tsk. Looks like our pet is trying to have more fun without us, darling,” he crooned to Halsin, who chuckled and caressed your cheek gingerly.

“I was enjoying the show,” you breathed, nuzzling your head into Halsin’s large palm. “I wanted to enjoy it a little bit more.”

“Greedy little thing,” Astarion admonished in a playful tone. “Whatever shall we do with her?”

“Give her a good finish,” the druid replied in a low, gravelly voice. “She’s earned it, don’t you think?”

He wasn’t asking you, of course, but you moaned your assent anyway. Astarion chuckled at your eagerness, shifting one hand from your hips to tease his fingers across your swollen clit.

“Have you? Have you earned it?” He whispered into your neck, the pads of his fingers ghosting across you. You keened and bucked your hips, trying to chase his hand. Halsin groaned as your movement caused him to slide deeper inside you.

“Please, please, please,” you begged, not an ounce of pride remaining within you. You were wound so tight, ready to spring. You would kiss the soles of his feet if it got you closer to climax.

You felt Astarion flash a wicked grin against your neck, his fangs brushing across the delicate skin.

“Poor thing, begging like that. Very well, let’s give you a memorable finale,” he purred, slipping his middle finger fully between your folds and circling your clit. At the same time, his remaining hand on your hip urged you up, up, up, so that Halsin was fully released from you before pushing you back down on him again.

Halsin grunted as you enveloped him once more, bucking erratically into you as he chased his own release. You watched as his mouth found Astarion’s again, his hand wrapping around the column of Astarion’s pale neck and pulling him closer.

You felt Astarion rut against your backside, in rhythm to the way he was using your cunt to fuck Halsin. His fingers never faltered as they continued their assault on your clit. In no time, the three of you were tumbling into ecstasy, unable to keep the crescendo at bay any longer. You reeled as Halsin spilled himself inside you, riding out your own high, clenching around his length. The wetness on your backside was evidence enough that Astarion, too, had found his own pleasure in the process.

Utterly spent, you collapsed your full weight against the druid, allowing Halsin to capture both you and Astarion in his embrace. The three of you tumbled gracelessly over like that, into the plushness of the blankets beneath you, catching your breath and recovering from the high.

“That was… incredible,” you sighed before letting loose a muffled yawn. Sandwiched between the two of them, you could feel sleep was quickly approaching.

Halsin laughed, watching you try in vain to keep your eyes open. “Did we tire you out already?”

“Precious little thing,” Astarion crooned, kissing your shoulder delicately. “She gets tuckered out so easily.”

“You’re more than welcome to continue without me,” you smiled mischeviously at the two of them. “As I said, I enjoy watching.”

“Who knew we’d create a little voyeur when all this started, hmm?” Astarion smirked.

“I believe the lady wishes for an encore, love,” Halsin replied in a low tone, rich with renewed desire.

“Well then, who are we to deny her?” Astarion teased, reaching for the druid once more.

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drivergemini · 2 years

Text

hellfire baby :: e.m.

summary: when starting a new campaign, the hellfire club didn’t except to see a toddler sitting in their club leader’s throne

content warning: parenting & pregnancy, talks about teen parenting, swearing, basically really fluffy, child’s features mostly based off of eddie

word count: 1013

when all of the hellfire boy’s entered through the theater room’s doors, they felt a huge rush of excitement. eddie had been hyping up his new campaign for about a month and told everyone that he was going to do something real special for their first meeting.

what they did not expect was a small little girl, maybe around 1 or 2 years old, sitting in their dungeon master’s place. she had a pink dragon onesie on and her big brown eyes stared back at the group.

“why good evening lovely gentlemen.” eddie popped out from behind his throne, holding a small sandwich bag filled with ‘star wars’ cookies. he handed it to the child with barely any acknowledgement and she gladly grabbed it with eager hands. “are you lads ready to start this wonderful campaign?”

each boy had their own looks of confusion on their faces. they looked at eddie and then the child, then back again.

“eddie why the hell is there a baby here?” dustin was the one who spoke up.

eddie’s face sported a wide grin. “well guys i would like to introduce you to the surprise i mentioned.” he scooped up the little girl and presented her to the d&d club memebers. “everyone this is my daughter mei. say hi mei mei.”

“hi mei mei.” the little voice spoke a she waved a tiny hand to the boys. she tugged her onesie hood down, reveling long, brown hair, just like her dad’s.

“daughter? eddie we didn’t even know you could speak to girls?” mike chimed in.

“well wheeler, if it matters to you, i don’t speak to girls because i already have my fiance.” he raised his eyebrows at the last part.

you see, eddie munson didn’t become a super-super senior because he was dumb. he became a super-super senior because he accidentally got his high school girlfriend pregnant. they had been together since they were 16. eddie and y/n were going great until the summer before their senior year. y/n’s pregnancy took a large toll to both of their academics, so eddie decided he would try and lighten his girlfriend’s stress load. on april 29th, 1984, their daughter was born.

he thought y/n’s future was too bright for her to be held back, so after she gave birth he let her continue as an almost normal high school student. eddie didn’t get to graduate that year. but he did get to hold his baby as he watched the love of his life walk the stage.

he didn’t graduate his second senior year either. he was too caught up in healthy parenting and making sure he was there to watch his daughter’s firsts. he watched her first steps, her first time eating solid foods, and even heard her first word. ‘dragon’.

so here he was, his third senior year, finally ready to walk that stage.

as eddie finished up the story he heard a sniff. all heads turned toward the direction of lucas.

“dude that story was so beautiful. i didn’t even know that.”

“yeah most people don’t except a few people who were in school during that time like harrington. but y/n kind of chose to drop off the map so it isn’t talked about much.” eddie sat down in his chair and placed his daughter on his lap. “now that introductions are out of the way, shall we get started?”

eddie’s new campaign was centered around exploring an abandoned gem mine to figure out what was terrorizing the near by townsfolk.

“so little dwarf, you enter the cave with your mates behind you. as you guide them with your light, the air becomes increasingly warm. as you approach the growing heat, you see a shimmer of pink scales.”

“munson you did not...” dustin starts as his hands grip the table.

“you raise your torch higher and you see her in all her glory...” eddie lifts mei off of his lap and places her in the middle of the table. “mei the fire breathing dragon.”

all the boys start to exclaim in frustration. what kind of sick father makes his own kid the first boss of his d&d campaign? eddie munson that’s who. after explaining they all need a time out to discuss, they all huddled in the corner.

“dude what are we going to do? we can’t slay the dragon. i mean look at her, she’s adorable!” dustin whispered.

“i mean honestly if you think about it, it’s just a game.” mike said. typical.

“yes but the moral principal of it is, eddie knows that we would have to be sick son’s of bitches to kill a kid. especially his daughter.” dustin explained frustrated.

him and mike felt a little wedge between their legs. they all looked down to see mei still holding her bag of cookies.

“tooktie?” she raised it up to the air, offering the boys a share of her snack.

each boy took only one, while politely thanking her for sharing. she unwedged herself from the huddle and waddled towards her dad.

“juice peas?” she said to him, pointing to a sippy cup sitting on the table. he handed her the cup and looked at the clock on the wall.

“unfortunately boys, time is up for today’s meeting.” eddie tsked.

just as he said that, y/n opened the door to the club room and walked in scanning around. each person all had their eyes on her.

“mommy!” mei squealed, running towards the young woman. she jumped into her arms, y/n picking her up and spinning her around.

eddie grabbed a small child lunch box and walked towards the two girls. “as you see i can't stay any later than i’m supposed to tonight guys. but this will give you some more time to think about your next move.”

he trailed behind the two girls, waving everyone goodbye.

as the door closed, each hellfire member could hear a faint, “eddie why is our daughter talking about slaying a dragon?”

followed by “edward munson why did our daughter just say son of a bitch?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things 4 #eddie munson my beloved #parenting fic #the baby fever has been real yall #hellfire baby sushihousebread

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reallyromealone · 1 month

Text

Title: ducky

Fandom: hazbin hotel

Pairing: Lucifer x reader

Warnings: reader is Jessica rabbit coded, make reader, sexual themes, reader hates Valentino, softcore nsfw, crack treated seriously, Lucifer is a simp, reader cross dresses, reader wears lipstick, the word daddy

Notes: the amount of rewrites boy howdy

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

After every show, (name) had gifts waiting from fans.

Flowers, expensive jewelry and other things were always there but one thing always stuck out to him, an adorable rubber duck dressed like him, wearing an adorable version of the show he did previously. Todays was his pink dress, the jazz singer loved cross dressing and it seemed his admirer noticed every detail of his outfits... It had him swooning! "Oh the note!" He said looking for the rose gold paper with black ink, another joke that was corny and wishing him a good day... Oh he was so wonderful!

It was the best part of his day, really it was.

Before this, his eternity was always so drab... Singing his songs and nothing of interest happening.

"It's time" one of his security guards said seriously and (name) nodded, placing the duck in his suit pocket before leaving with the men and out the back area of the club where the limo was waiting for him.

Not before catching eyes with the one person be despised and was sadly obsessed with him, Valentino smirked as he stepped out of the limo across the street as (name) got into his own faster, not wanting to deal with him especially after a performance. He couldn't stand that moth! The demon had been obsessed with (name) for years along with his little picture box friend, he remembered when they sent him molds of their erections! Disgusting!

(Name) Made sure his driver left faster, not wanting to deal with that man any more than he needed to.

"Your father requested your presence" the driver said to (name) who looked passive "what for?" He asked as a smile found its way in his face as the driver explained about some project the demon was partaking in and wanted (name)s help, the jazz demon excited to see what was taking all his father's time these days "then let's go see, shall we?"

(Name) Was not expecting some hotel on the edge of town "Hazbin hotel?" He mumbled curiously as he walked into the hotel, his driver going on his break and (name) wasn't expecting his father to be arguing with a small blond man "papa?" He asked with a passive Expression, where Alastor smiled (name) kept passive "(name)! There you are!" Alastor said dismissing the other immediately to walk to his son "how was your show little one?" He asked his son who let out a soft huff, amused "it was quite well, what's this shindig?" He gestured to the group of people and his dad grinned.

"I have someone for you to meet"

Everyone knew who (name) was, he was on every billboard across pentagram city and Angel dust knew how obsessed Vox and Valentino were with him, throwing tantrums whenever their wooing attempts went south.

But what they didn't know was that (name) was Alastors son.

"Wait son?! Sinners can't procreate?" Charlie asked curiously as Alastor laughed robotically "he was my son when I was alive, sadly I died when he was little--"'--and I was raised by grandma!" (Name) Continued and they were curious on how (name) was in hell but decided not to prod on that and now that they looked at them, they could see the resemblances.

Height being a main one, (name) just a bit shorter than his dad.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, now why am I here?" He asked his father curiously and the radio demon grinned wider "well you see, we need someone to notice this place and what better than the most popular jazz singer in this place!" Alastor said merrily and (name) raised an eyebrow but sighed "I will on a condition" Charlie was vibrating with excitement as she nodded "whatever you want!"

"I'm looking for someone, I don't know who they are but I have a few clues" (name) pulled out the notes and the duck from his pockets "this person botherin' ya?" Husk asked suspiciously and (name) shook his head "quite the opposite actually!" Charlie and Alastor looked at each other and then the rubber duck in realization as Lucifer looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"Dad, is that your duck?" (Name) Drew his attention to the now panicking fallen angel who looked back at (name) stressed out "I think we should talk" (name) said to the blond man who followed nervously, the two going off somewhere as everyone processed what just happened.

"I can expla--" (name) stopped him with a kiss, gently holding Lucifer's face and his thumbs stroking his cheekbones before pulling back "I uh, I don't understand?" Lucifer said dumbly and (name) grinned "I never got a chance to tell you how my day was, awful rude doll~" he whispered to Lucifer and smiled at the smudged red lipstick from his performance on Lucifer's lips "s-so does this mean...?"

"Oh darling, I'm not gonna let you go... But I gotta ask, what's your name? Or should I just call you ducky?" (Name) Teased the other who looked incredibly flustered "maybe baby? Or daddy?" He teased and Lucifer was deeply confused at how this walking sex symbol was related to fucking Alastor but the kiss he was being pulled back into made him forget it all.

"They have been there awfully long" Charlie fretted and Angel dust snorted "he's related to smiles over there, god knows what's happening"

"I'm gonna check on them" she said nervously and Alastor followed, fatherly instincts kicking in as they went to the room the two wandered off too, hearing gasps and grunts and the sound of something knocking over. In a panic Charlie opened the door and Angel dust couldn't hold his laughter at Alastor and Charlie's horrified faces at the scene before them.

(Name) On-top of Lucifer with his suit half off his body and Lucifer was no better with an exposed chest and unbuttoned pants connected to (names) full lack of pants, Lucifer sporting Hickey's and red lipstick all over his body.

"DID IT HAVE TO BE HIM?!" Lucifer was exasperated as the two quickly put themselves together and Charlie was traumatized at the fact she saw her dad... Like that.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #lucifer x reader #Lucifer x male reader #male reader #x male reader

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spacebarbarianweird · 7 months

Text

Astarion x f!reader. We Shall Meet Again

Read on AO3

Astarion and Tav are talking about life and death and end up talking about children tags: fluff, comfort, conversation about death and mortality Astarion mentions he wants to step into the sunlight once Tav dies so consider it a trigger warning Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

"Please, Astarion, I can walk on my own!" You try to free yourself, but the vampire drags you on his shoulders like a lifeless sack.

"No, you can't," he replies.

You let out a sigh of frustration. If only Astarion could see your expression, he would witness your disappointment.

The task seemed simple enough. The villagers promised a reward for getting rid of a troublesome troll. It should have been a routine quest for a pair of seasoned adventurers like you. And it had been until the troll hurled you against a tree. Astarion swiftly dealt with the monster, then hoisted you onto his shoulders, and now the two of you were making your way back to the village to get the reward.

"Please, just put me down," you implore.

"Your leg is broken," Astarion insists.

"No, it's not!" You let out a cry of pain as he touches the injured limb. "Fine, you win!"

Astarion chuckles softly as you continue to observe the grass and flowers below. Eventually, the fatigue overtakes you, causing you to black out. When you open your eyes again, you find yourself back in the village.

"We've agreed on five golden coins! Take your reward and go!"

"Yes, but my wife broke her leg, and now I must pay the healer," Astarion argues with a rogue smile. "Eight golden coins."

"Six! We haven't paid the tithe yet!"

"Seven. And your village healer cures her for free."

"Fine! But I don't want to see either of you ever again!"

"It can be arranged!"

The village chief throws a sack of gold to Astarion, and the vampire performs a theatrical bow as if on a stage. Then, he approaches you and gently kisses your forehead, his lips curving into a grin, though a hint of concern lingers in his crimson eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm too young to die just yet," you say as you caress his left cheek, and he closes his eyes, savoring the touch like a content cat.

"I know, but when that thing threw you at the tree, I thought for a second," he stumbles, his voice tinged with worry. "I thought you wouldn't get up."

You remember the wave of pain, the buzz in your ears, and Astarion kneeling beside you, carefully letting you drink a healing potion. He held you gently, his worry palpable as he waited for the potion to mend at least some damage.

He worries sick every time you get hurt. So do you - Astarion doesn't take physical damage easily.

The healer finally arrives, visibly annoyed that he was woken up in the middle of the night. He casts a spell on your leg, and you hear a gruesome sound as the bones fuse back together.

"You could at least be grateful for slaying that troll," you mutter.

The healer lets out a string of curses and leaves.

"Well, I think it's best if we find a spot to make camp before the sunrise," Astarion says.

"I don't think it would be safe to stay in the village anyway. They might start suspecting you're a vampire," you reply as the houses fade into the distance.

"Ungrateful lot," he chuckles.

You take his hand, and you together go into the night. It's been five years since you met at the shipwreck, five years since your unlikely union evolved into something deeper. You haven't grown tired of each other; if anything, you've grown closer, and you can't imagine spending a single night without Astarion by your side.

You are not even sure if you can fall asleep without him cuddling you.

You affectionately refer to each other as "wife" and "husband," even though there was no formal ceremony. One day, Astarion slipped a ring he'd found in a dungeon onto your finger, and you did the same after obtaining a similar one. It was as simple as that.

… The two of you stop and set up a tent as the skies lighten. The tent is crafted from thick, black material and reinforced with a darkness spell - a perfect daylight shelter for a vampire.

You've grown accustomed to the routine. At sunrise, you both go to sleep. When you wake up well past noon, Astarion stays inside, engrossed in the books you've collected on your adventures, while you head out to hunt. But sometimes, you keep the vampire company as he reads aloud.

And once the sun sets, you hit the road again. Both of you share the desire to see the world, and you want to see it together.

Exhausted from a long day of walking and the battle with the troll, you immediately fall asleep. When you wake up, you see Astarion sitting beside you, reading one of his books. The rain is pounding the tent and you feel the cold.

"Good morning," you whisper, and he runs his gentle fingers through your hair. His crimson eyes are brimming with love, but you detect an underlying unease in him.

You've always respected his privacy, but you can't help but notice his recent unease.

"Is everything all right? Do you want to talk?" You sit up, peering at the small entrance tent, shivering.

"It seems I can't keep any secrets from you," he sighs in relief. "I just… got scared yesterday. When that thing threw you. When you fell. Damn, you looked like a ragdoll! Then the troll tried to pick you up to smash you again. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to save you. That you would die."

You say nothing, resting your head on his shoulder and listening to his steady breathing.

"That's stupid. You're here. Everything is great," he says.

You sense that he doesn't honestly believe it. Mortality. Your mortality is what's troubling him. He's undead, immortal. He can only die if someone kills him or if he steps into the sun. But you will grow old and eventually pass away if you're not killed earlier.

A sudden urge to leave the tent and return at sunset washes over you, but you suppress it. You both need to address this, no matter how uncomfortable it is.

"What do you think you will do when I die?" you ask him gently.

He stares at you in horror and disbelief, as if he can't believe you've broached this topic.

"I - I don't want to have this conversation," he mutters.

"Astarion, please. We have to talk about this. My love, I know it makes you uncomfortable, but we must discuss it."

He clenches his teeth. "You can't even comprehend how much."

"I actually can because you don't seem to care about your safety, and there's a very high chance I could end up a vampire widow."

You sit before him, taking his hands and gently tracing the knuckles.

He remains silent, and the only sound is that of raindrops outside. The comfort of the warm tent makes you decide not to venture into the rain.

"I will step into the sun once you die. It's not up for discussion," he says resolutely. "I'll bid you farewell, go outside, and see the sunshine one last time. Don't worry. I'll be with you till the end."

A knot forms in your stomach as you suddenly envision Astarion cradling your lifeless body, waiting for the sun to rise.

"Don't," you abruptly say. "Don't do this."

"Well, it won't be up to you to decide," he says, his voice sending shivers down your spine. Astarion turns his head away, a signal that he wants to be alone with his thoughts.

"Okay, I'll go for a walk," you suggest, wanting some fresh air, but he grabs your hand.

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't want you to catch a cold," he insists, pulling you closer. You rest your head against his chest and you sit together in silence, lost in your thoughts.

"Astarion," you whisper. "Let me tell you something."

"If it's about death again, I'm not interested."

You hug him tightly. "No, it's about… the opposite, actually."

You carefully choose your words. "My people… My people believe in rebirth. We believe that we don't stay dead forever."

You pause, studying Astarion's face, but his pale features remain unreadable.

"When I was little, I was told that our souls come back. In a century, in a millennium. Memories return, and an old personality reawakens. It only happens to some; some are forgotten and never return. That's why we tell stories about our deceased ancestors – to help them find their way back home. Their souls must feel loved to get back."

You hug him even tighter, fearing his reaction.

"Astarion, my love, please, don't step into the sun when I die. Live. I want you to live, see the lands we won't see together, and experience things we won't experience together."

He sobs, and you look up to see his eyes closed, silent tears streaming down his beautiful face. You gently stroke his white curls.

"I want you to talk about me, to tell people stories about my adventures, about who I was. You love me deeply, and if my people are right about souls and resurrection, your memories will be the most powerful beacon in the darkest sea of death."

You release Astarion, who still avoids looking at you directly, seemingly embarrassed about his tears.

"And when that time comes, I will find you. I will embark on a quest to seek my vampire husband, and we shall meet again. You will tell me everything about the places you've visited and your adventures. People you've met, quests you've completed. Everything."

You cup Astarion's face, making him meet your gaze.

"Promise me that, my love. Promise me you will keep living." You kiss his forehead, and your heart swells when you see his smile.

"I promise," he says. "I promise I will keep going."

He lets his tears go and you are proud of him for not concealing the emotions. Then he cocks his heads and grins.

"I'll take your word for that because if I'm reincarnated and never find you, I'll be truly upset," you playfully remark.

"So will I if I keep my promise and you never return," he chuckles.

You plant kisses on his cheeks and share a lighthearted laugh.

"Are you going outside?" he asks. "It seems like it's not raining anymore."

He returns to the book he was reading.

"Go, I don't want you to stay locked in here," he insists.

"Nah, it's too cold. I'd better stay inside with you. What are you even reading there?" You try to snatch the book from his hands, but he closes it and attempts to put it away. "Since when are you embarrassed about your reading preferences?"

You try to grab the heavy black volume, but Astarion catches you and playfully puts you on your back, causing uncontrollable giggles. Now, you can't get up but still manage to stretch your hand toward the book.

"What is this?" You open it. "Dhampirs share many qualities with vampires. They walk the line between living and dead, gain heightened abilities, and have a life-draining bite. Children of vampires and mortals, they are few in number…"

You stumble. Children of vampires and mortals…

Astarion blushes. "I found this book in the troll lair. I never knew that vampires could have children. Like, real children, not cursed spawns."

You open another page with pictures depicting a young human woman with vampire fangs.

"It's written that dhampirs aren't hurt by the sun" he continues. "And they don't need blood to survive. They can easily blend with mortals, but at the same time, they are strong as the undead," he pauses. "It's like being a vampire without downsides."

Half-vampires. Dhampirs. You vaguely remember hearing about them many years ago. Is it possible for you and Astarion to have a child? And would it be right to bring a dhampir into this world?

"Now you're thinking about it too," Astarion observes.

"Guilty," you admit, still lying beneath him. You touch his back, feeling the scars through his shirt. He smiles, enjoying the sensation.

"Speaking of mortality and my promise," he continues, "I think I'll find it easier not to step into the sunlight if I have someone to care for. It would be cruel," he kisses you. "To leave a child without both parents."

You giggle.

"Am I getting this correct? You want me to give birth to a silver-curled dhampir so you won't be lonely?" you tease, pressing Astarion tighter. He doesn't answer, too occupied with undressing you.

A child. Your mind pictures a little girl who resembles both you and Astarion. A progeny. Someone to carry a piece of you both into the future.

"I don't mind," you finally say. "I actually really want this."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion romance #spacebarbarian fics

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pinkiemachine · 10 days

Text

If Gen 1 Teen Titans was the “Merry Band of Misfits” then Gen 2 is the “Way Too Pretty and Crazy For Their Own Good Troop.” ™️

For a little context, I read that in some continuities, Cassie Sandsmark kinda hates Superboy. Not sure as to the details, but I find the scenario amusing. This shall be a part of my canon forthwith.

And now I must take my leave.

*swan dives to exit scene*

Original New Teen Titans posters 👇

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selineram3421 · 29 days

Text

*sleepy*

Courting Pursuit

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ gender neutral (gn) reader, mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, stalking-Vox, cussing, implied/suggestive, italics=thoughts, ha..watch out for the end ⚠

You continued to act affectionate towards him.

Even the others noticed and most of them would often ask you to do their work if it was related to him.

Niffty doesn't care and does her work as usual.

The thing is, you don't mind one bit and take up the work.

"Hola Alastor.", you'd greet him every time.

Today you were helping someone else, Husk to be exact, putting away some bottles in storage.

And then he heard that obnoxious voice of the sad excuse of an entertainment performer through his radio next to the television shop, Vox.

"Top of the hour! Today I have a special little treat for you, though the image is sadly glitched out, you can still see what is going on in the photo.", he says. "It's the Radio Demon, receiving an affectionate peck on the forehead from another deer!"

What a creeper. Alastor rolled his eyes and waited for the perfect moment to jump in and make the flat headed piece of tech look like a complete fool.

"From the looks of things, Alastor has a fuck buddy.", the TV demon grinned. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was taking it from behind.", he laughed and continued to rant on about innuendos like an idiot.

Turning a few knobs and flipping some switches, the Radio Demon was live.

"Salutations!", he greeted his listeners. "What an interesting start to the day! An overly cocky man acting like a news anchor when he doesn't have all the facts!", his smile widens. "For a demon asking his viewers to trust him, it's quite bold that he so blatantly lies to their faces."

"That's bullshit! I only provide the best-"

"Vox is so insecure and craving for attention from a powerful Overlord like myself, it's obvious that he's jealous.", Alastor laughed.

"Am fucking not you old timey prick-!"

"Why would he make such an announcement if not for that? Its clear to me that he wants someone to focus on him all the time.", he chuckles. "No wonder he always something new on his screens. But they lack so much that he has to resort to childish news broadcasts to seem important."

"Childish!?"

"As for the demon in the photo, that is a hotel guest and they do not understand English that much. There was a misunderstanding in translation and well..I'm not allowed to kill hotel guests.", then his voice switches. "This does not mean that I will let such an action pass, I will do something mμc# ￦θrs€ than death."

"You lying piece of shit! Tell me them the truth!"

"I should announce that the Hazbin Hotel has its doors open for all sinners who want a shot at redemption! Try to climb your way out of this fiery inferno, some might try to drag you back down, or you'll have trouble all on your own trying to redeem yourself! Anything is possible!", he put in his two bits for advertising the hotel. "And with that my wonderful listeners, I shall bid you all adieu~"

He switched on some jazz, not wanting to hear anymore of Vox's whining.

Something still irked him however..

Perhaps I should pay Rosie another visit. He thought. This time without them knowing.

As soon as he walked through the door of the emporium, his friend waved him over and pointed to her office, letting him know that she'd be there soon.

Once entering the office, he sighed and sat on the couch, already tired of what else would happen later in the day. He didn't want any other unnecessary conversations.

Rosie entered the office not too long after, setting her hat aside as she closed the door.

"You won't believe the gossip I've stumbled across today. Betty, the one with the pooch, not the one with the scar. She-", the woman started but then took notice of his mood. "What's wrong? You look worn out already."

"I don't know what to do with them. Vox, that piece of shit tech, has already made comments but I already put him in his place.", he sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"I heard.", Rosie let out a short laugh.

"The deer is still doing things, not as bold as the first time but I don't want them near me. It's-", he growled and made a choking motion with his hands.

"If it's bothering you that much, you know you can tell them to stop.", she says.

He looks up at her with a wide eyed stare.

She dead pans.

"Alastor. You know you can tell them to stop. Right?"

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind.", he simply says.

"Oh for crying out loud-!", she tosses a pillow at him. "You are unbelievable! Go and speak your mind! You've never had a problem with it before!"

She was right. Why had he been so bothered about something like this?

He should have spoken up about it from the start.

It was late when he returned to the hotel. The lobby was empty and he could only assume that everyone had long been asleep. Walking to the dining room, he spots the kitchen light on.

Angel is probably making an abomination of a hangover cure- He thought and opened the door, only to find the mule deer leaning against the counter half asleep.

You perk up when noticing him.

"Bienvenido. Hice la cena y te guardé un plato.", you wave and smile. (Welcome back. I made dinner and saved you a plate.)

"What are you doing up at this hour? Granted, it is Hell and there are barely any rules around here, sleep is still important.", he says as you pick up a plate covered with tin foil.

Taking off the foil, you give him a plate of food.

Your fingers brush against his, making him flinch back and drop the plate, causing it to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.

Instead of focusing on the mess, you looked at him with worry.

"¿Estás bien? No estás herido, ¿verdad-?", you reach out to him but he smacks your hand away. (Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you-?)

"Don't touch me.", he hisses out. "I am not comfortable with your advances, so I advise you to stop NOW before I tear you apart and make you into tomorrow's dinner."

With that you took a step back.

"No quería incomodarte. Me detendré. Perdóname por no tener en cuenta tus sentimientos.", you muttered and looked away. (I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I will stop. Forgive me for not taking your feelings into account.)

Alastor didn't bother trying to translate your response in his head, just walking around you and to the door.

"Lo siento.." (I'm sorry..)

He heard you whisper as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.

With a sigh, you kneeled down and began to clean the mess.

Sad times means cookies.

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @sleep-7372 @wat4r @lustylita @xdolls-crownx @lonelysimp18 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @dap11 @al1fers-haven @futureittomainn @random-3455 @+?

ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌

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