#malicious gossips

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Just over a decade ago, the late novelist Hilary Mantel (6 July 1952 – 22 September 2022) delivered a lecture to an event at the London Review of Books and triggered national outrage.

In the course of a talk on “Royal Bodies,” which ranged widely across royal women from Anne Boleyn to Marie Antoinette and Princess Diana, she had made what many perceived as disparaging remarks about Kate Middleton, then the Duchess of Cambridge.

The Duchess, she said, appeared to have been “designed by a committee and built by craftsmen, with a perfect plastic smile and the spindles of her limbs hand-turned and gloss-varnished."

Indeed, Mantel said, Kate “seems to have been selected for her role of princess because she was irreproachable: as painfully thin as anyone could wish, without quirks, without oddities, without the risk of the emergence of character.”

At this, the newspapers were soon in uproar.

The prime minister David Cameron called the comments “completely misguided and completely wrong” and the Labour leader Ed Miliband agreed they were “pretty offensive.”

Mantel doggedly refused to back down, saying that her remarks had been twisted out of context, and that she was in fact writing with sympathy about the perceptions that are forcefully projected on to royal women, the cage in which they are held to be goggled at.

That was true but also perhaps not the entire truth, for there was still a perceptible trace of authorial vinegar in the portrait:

Which of us would be happy to learn, even in sympathy, that we were held at low risk for “the emergence of character”?

Royals are public as well as private figures, of course, and authors are free to hang intellectual ideas on them to try out, as designers do with clothes.

Yet while much of the lecture was sharply perceptive, I didn’t agree with the portrait of Kate.

That word “selected” had rendered her passive, when in fact her behaviour thus far had suggested both an active intelligence and an unusual degree of self-discipline.

The context of her entry into “The Firm” was different from that of other royal brides.

Unlike Diana, who had barely emerged from the fractured chrysalis of her troubled aristocratic family when she first met the much older, more worldly Prince Charles, Kate was a contemporary of Prince William’s at the University of St Andrews.

Her family background, which appeared warm and supportive, was comfortably middle-class.

She seemed generally cheerful and unruffled, even when the press was at the barbed peak of its “Waity Katie” hysteria, trying to goad Prince William into a proposal or abandonment.

After the wedding, in her approach to royal duties, she clearly took the role she had inherited with marriage seriously.

The royal whose attitude her own most resembled was the late Queen Elizabeth II, who had long understood the essential nature of the job:

To turn up to public events looking the part, intuit precisely what was needed — gravitas, fun, consolation or reassurance — and deliver it while keeping one’s personal emotions on the back burner.

This is what a monarchy demands, and the ability to act as an impeccable interpreter of the public mood, year after year, is a particular and testing art.

A few have a natural aptitude for it, but most of us do not, and would quickly find its scrutiny and restrictions intolerable.

Grace under consistent pressure is an admirable quality.

Were a ballet dancer to execute a string of flawless performances, or a pilot to conduct numerous flights without incident, it would not be deemed evidence of an absence of character: quite the opposite.

Yet in Kate — especially for those who increasingly conduct their lives online — serene self-possession seems to drive a proportion of onlookers insane: what lurks behind it, what dark secret is waiting to destroy it, how best might it be disrupted?

The uncomfortable truth is that what many people deeply crave in a young and beautiful royal wife and mother is not competence, but crack-up.

The increasingly bizarre treatment of Kate, or the idea of Kate, is connected to the most dominant phenomenon of our age: a cultural prioritising of drama over duty.

The supply of drama has spilled beyond the confines of the novel, theatre, cinema, or television to become a commodity on which our public figures are judged.

When Mantel spoke of Kate’s apparent absence of emerging “character,” she was assessing her primarily through the hungry eyes of a novelist.

In books, central female characters often generate dramatic tension by chafing against their circumstances, by the intensifying dazzle of their discontents, something that Kate refused to transmit.

In contrast, Mantel described Diana as a “carrier of myth”: Diana, publicly trapped in the disappointments of her marriage, certainly carried more plot twists than any author had a right to expect.

Unfortunately for her, the final one was her shockingly premature death.

Set against this artistic conception of “character” — distinctive qualities or flaws that, one way or another, deliver drama — is the societal judgement “of good character,” meaning someone who is broadly reliable and respected in relation to their behaviour to others.

In recent years, the electorate, in line with Neil Postman’s warning in his 1985 book, Amusing Ourselves To Death, has proved increasingly ready to select the former over the latter, even to the marked detriment of our civic health.

The former prime minister Boris Johnson instinctively understood it as his job not to deliver the detail of workable policy but to satisfy the public’s appetite for story:

“People live by narrative,” he once told UnHerd’s Tom McTague.

In the US, Donald Trump — that relentless generator of low mockery and high fury — is now running for a second term as president, after his first one ended in his supporters storming the Capitol building.

Men are often permitted to survive the frantic generation of drama: it is everyone around them who suffers.

Yet women — in art and life — have a greater tendency to be destroyed by it.

There is no strutting female equivalent of the male “hellraiser,” but rather a woman who, soaked in the crocodile tears of the tabloids, is tragically “causing concern” among friends.

Art and its audiences have always relished the restless struggle and disintegration of female characters who are, or become, unmoored from the harbour of marriage and children.

Flaubert’s Emma Bovary — her imagination inflamed by reading novels — is bored with her marriage and disenchanted with motherhood.

She seeks solace in affairs and excessive spending, the consequences of which hasten her suicide.

Zola’s Nana, a courtesan who ruthlessly captivates Parisian society, has her beguiling face eaten away by smallpox.

Janis Joplin and Amy Winehouse, immolated on their blazing talent, are hung posthumously high in the musical hall of fame, next to Sylvia Plath in the poetry section and Marilyn Monroe in cinema.

In Jean Rhys’s Good Morning, Midnight, a middle-aged English woman called Sasha Jansen, mourning an unhappy marriage and a dead child, finds herself in Paris, a vulnerable drifter seeking solace from stray men.

Rhys herself, who died at 88 after a precarious but surprisingly long life, had much in common with her literary creations.

As the writer and editor Diana Athill crisply put it:

“Jean was absolutely incapable of living, life was just hopelessly beyond her.

When she was young, she floated from man to man in a hopeless way… by the time she was old, she floated from kind woman to kind woman.”

In Rhys’s latter years — hard-drinking, irascible and impoverished — Athill and a small group of female friends formed what they called “The Jean Rhys Committee,” which met regularly to ask “what should we do next?”

Rhys’s claim to such loyalty, I suppose, was the weight of her literary talent, her ability to exert an odd kind of fascination, and the fortunate soft-heartedness of her friends.

The dramatic collided with the dutiful and was kept alive by it.

From what I can see, the Princess of Wales exists at the opposite end of the feminine spectrum from Jean Rhys.

Pinned firmly in place by her royal obligations, her wealth, her marriage, and three children, she belongs to the realm of the respectable and dutiful rather than the erratic and dramatic.

She is not a “character” in the artistic sense, nor does she desire to be, but both a survivor and upholder of an institution:

Hers is the territory of the prompt thank-you note, the kept promise, the commitment to public service, the uncomplicated pleasure in children, the stoic endurance of difficult times in the hope that better ones will come along soon.

The public senses an emotional solidity in her, and it is partly why she is held in broad esteem.

In this age of insistent self-definition, duty to others might be an unfashionable concept, but it is nonetheless one that keeps families and institutions from chaos and collapse.

With the advent of the internet, however, anyone with a keyboard can become a form of author, with the freedom to insert a toxic form of drama into real-life situations.

What was extraordinary, during the Princess of Wales’s recent health problems, is how speedily and carelessly such speculations overrode the bounds of decency.

It was already known that she had undergone major abdominal surgery and was taking time to recover.

And yet — egged on by the participation of silly celebrities and malicious US comedians — conspiracy theories about cosmetic surgery and affairs and nervous breakdowns spread like knotweed.

According to social-media researchers, these were also vigorously introduced and amplified by fake accounts set up on Twitter and TikTok, some associated with Russia-linked disinformation eager to spread the termites of mistrust and doubt in Western institutions.

Only the Princess of Wales’s revelation of cancer, which carries a testing drama all its own, served to shut up the majority of them.

Unlike these callous gossips, Mantel recognised her own complicity in dehumanising royalty.

Upon encountering the late Queen, the novelist said: “I passed my eyes over her as a cannibal views his dinner, my gaze sharp enough to pick the meat off her bones.”

The Queen looked back at her, she said, briefly hurt. Mantel warned of the way in which “cheerful curiosity can easily become cruelty” precisely as it has done in recent weeks.

Her talk concluded with a prescient instruction for those who comprehend monarchy mainly as a source of entertainment: “I’m asking us to back off and not be brutes.”

In the midst of treatment and recovery, the most hitherto stable of royal women could be forgiven a keen sense of injustice:

Her job description, it seems, must now include the ability to weather the online public’s fits of brutish mania for drama.

With its contempt for duty, and its savage appetite for story, it is hungry to chew up far more than just the Princess of Wales.

NOTE: Additional photos have been included in this article.

#Princess of Wales #Catherine Princess of Wales #Catherine Middleton #Kate Middleton #British Royal Family #cancer #chemotherapy #preventative chemotherapy #disinformation #misinformation #fake news #trolls #bots #click farms #targeted attack #malicious gossips

[mostlikelytofangirl]

Look at this. This just goes to show how much of an unreliable narrator NMJ is. JGY is looking at him crying (which I do believe is of sincere even though he's to blame), and NMJ thinks he's happy. Why do people take NMJ's words and, by extension, the empathy sequence, at face value?

Oh this scene. It's such a painful one ;-;

About your question tho, I think the reason is that empathy is literally all we have in terms of wtf happened between JGY and NMJ, and that information is crucial to the story.

That being said yes, NMJ is biased in the way he perceived the events, but then again... why should we take all of canon at face value then when it's being narrated through the POV of another character, WWX?

Just bc he is the protagonist doesn't mean his recollections of events is not unreliable too. And that's the point.

In the end, there is not a complete and objective truth to what happened beyond big and properly recorded events. But when it comes to their perceptions of others, their thoughts, feelings and intentions, the entire story is coated with bias, and it's up to each reader to accept or question whatever they see fit imo.

So here we can see it as JGY having a clash of emotions that made him both cry and smile (bc that can legit happen, especially in very intense moments), or we are seeing what NMJ (who is literally dying at this point) perceives and take it with a grain of salt. Bc not even a man as straightforward as NMJ is not also a complex human, and if his intention was to make JGY look as bad as possible, then why show that one scene of MY rocking and soothing a baby in the battlefield?

At the end of the day, we will never know for sure, and tbh for me that's part of what make this story so great for a wide audience bc it can be literally what each individual makes of it, and no matter how loyal to canon you are, there's always wiggle room for 'what ifs' :D

#replies #mdzs #nie mingjue #idk maybe it's just me #but I do like this sort of ambiguity in canon itself #it suits the theme of gossip and cherry picking for one's own agenda #and not even in a malicious way #just goes to show how different ppl can have such variety of interpretations of the same event

[rosedhall]

Don't get it twisted based on my last post's tags btw, I like Dr Bose. Rohit Gokani is playing him with such gormless authenticity and with such a pleasant voice to match that I am convinced he doesn't have a malicious bone in his body. I am, however, convinced he is a fucking berk (affectionate)

#txt #bose #i cant in my right mind be a harvey fan and not like bose bc harvey is both a fucking idiot and also very malicious at points lmao #also what is with this new tag bubble thing no me gusta #also unrelated one of my housemates is watching downtown rn and frankly see me turn up to see karl haynes onscreen and then promptly leave #underappreciated bose trait actually. the fact hes a gossip

[gracebethartacc]

Been having ideas for them that basically boil down to this:

#They in a polycule together n they pull pranks and spread gossip but nothing malicious like they use their sneakiness to help kids too #But mostly pranks lol #They are mischievous scarah is the only reason billy n spectra are in check bc if this was a duo and not trio it would be a different story #Just the schools resident Robin Hood type group they pull pranks on bullies and help out kids getting picked on #But they still will do just a little bit of pranks to everyone just bc it’s funny lol no one is safe from the scheming hehe #Mad they didn’t ever interact much in canon to my knowledge bc they would be a bangin trio group #Monster high au

[maliciousgossip]

#malicious gossip

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

25 Laws of power for women

Conceal your goals especially the ones that are appealing. Losing weight, reinventing yourself, marrying wealthy. Instead talk about your altruistic goals - to help children, invest in education, this will chase insecure people with vile intentions.

Do not give anyone your source of power: Was is a book that changed your life? a mentor? a movie? Never give up your secret to success. If forced to do say allude to God, the universe, the a random phenomenon

Use the patriarchy to your favor; we live in a world that is, only associate with men who have power, use that power for good.

Never appear too perfect but be selectively vulnerable when needed. Only share something that you will be comfortable saying. You might say “I forget my keys all the time,” “I don’t know how to perfectly park a car “. But never disclose something you are not comfortable with just because you are afraid of being perfect.

Maintain distance in relationships. Friends are the best and you need them. But if you feel that they are becoming too dependent, see them at your own will. But also the reverse could be the case. Your friend may keep a distance, and that is the way of life. You have got to move on from it.

Develop your own style that makes you unique, beautiful, and elegant. Avoid trying to fit in the crowd of people who claim to care less about their style yet have too many opinions about other women’s style

Avoid male friends at all cost, you will have male colleagues, male bosses, male acquaintances, business partners. Keep it that way. You do not want a Truman Capote divulging your secrets to the world. Do not keep a man who does not fit your standard.

You do not have to win at every game. Pick and choose what is best for you and leave room for others. And step down if you have attained that level of success, do not let the society do it for you.

Trust people but remember that we are all humans. So trust with discretion!

Confuse people with kindness; people are not always comfortable with beautiful and intelligent women. That power is too intimidating so confuse them by being genuinely generous, curious, kind, and passionate.

Keep your strong opinions to yourself.. if you support a movement, a way of life, do so silently.

We all have dirty laundry, wash them privately, don’t expose yourself. Remain silent when people try to attack you or shame you. Whatever is not confirmed is not true. You are the only one who knows all the truth about you.

Don’t attract pity or praise: People who pity you do not help you, in fact they might think that you are weak and could mock you at their annual gossipping meeting. And if you are doing things for the sake of praise you are wasting your time.

Choose yourself all the time; never put any one’s feelings above yours.

Trust your own intuition if you feel someone is being malicious towards you, giving you back handed compliments then you should let them go

Never speak bad of another woman. Do not lazy around gossipping. Keep your hands clean and your conscience clear.

Avoid women with low self esteem they will bring you down. For some reason they do not like seeing other women who are doing better than them

Be careful who you seek validation from. Not everyone needs to be pleased. If they are in no way capable of contributing to your life in the ways you prefer, then don’t ask them for their opinions or please them.

Do not compete with other women, if you do you are only putting them on a pedestal. You are making the the standard by which you measure your progress. If you do compete, begin digging your grave.

Do not give unsolicited advice, do not share the inner workings of your mind, If your mouth is very charitable you better start journaling.

Be well-rounded and interesting. It attracts people. It also keeps you busy because you are continually improving and learning. An idle mind is an easily subdued one.

Avoid women who want to live vicariously through you; they want to know who you know, shop where you shop, befriend who you befriend, wear what you wear.

Pay attention to the source of your discomfort; get rid of them. You tell them your dreams and they remind you of all your hindrances. They ask why are you dressed so fancy as though fancy isn’t subjective. They undermine you interests and goals. They will also be quick to bring you down because they are afraid of your potential.

Do not fear power or please power. When we see powerful people we try to hard to befriend them, to be close to them but you need to be comfortable without them. Don’t push yourself in the name of friendship, do not try too hard to be in their inner circle. Your independence of mind is the most important. Instead become a powerful woman, aloof to the presence of power but aware of its importance. Be an ingenious and intelligent and use your creativity to uplift yourself. When you do so it will be hard to ignore you. Even the powerful will become an ally.

Enjoy moments of solitude. Use that time to develop yourself, improve your body, learn new skills, create with your mind, read widely, become more elegant, then launch yourself.

Remember the most powerful women are the most intelligent. Inspired by Robert Greene's 48 Laws of Power. Use at your discretion.

#self improvement #self love #growth #mindfulness #self development #beauty #education #self care #classy #self help #power #new books #booklover #book review #book quotes #books #biography #self control #self discipline #self worth #students #smart #emotions #emotional intelligence #self growth #discipline #get motivated #life goals #gratitude #femininity journey

[nuggetsfromgodsword]

To Help Women Identify As True Christians

DATE POSTED: Sunday, October 8, 2023, and I was blessed to be at Advent Christian Village, Dowling Park, FL when God inspired me to prepare this devotional. My Footnote will tell you how to find, read or listen to any and all episodes that I have shared over the years. TODAY’S SCRIPTURE FROM THE Amplified Bible (AMP) IS FOUND IN Titus 2:1; 3-5; THE BIBLE TEXT IS: But as for you, teach the…

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#Adoration #Answered Prayer #BFC #Bible #Calvary #church #God #God sighting #Good character #Identified as Christian #Jesus #King of kings #Lord #not addicted to much wine #not gossipers #not malicious #Praise #Promises #Reverent #Savior #Teach younger women #Worship

[thebrainrotsreal]

Random musings about an episode where Spectra disguised herself as a student, rather than a counselor to sow misery within the high school! Spreading gossip, being outright malicious, shattering friendships, and all that jazz! Plus, using that fact she looks like a teen against Danny, since unless cornering her, he couldn't fight her without looking like he's attacking a random student.

#she probably also tries to ruin both his reputations as ghost AND as a student #and fits in with the A-listers easily while breaking up their friendships by spreading rumors and gossip #a fun idea! haha i love drawing her so much #something about all the girl designs in this show make me wanna draw them SO bad #the brainrotsreal's art tag ✧˖°:*♡ #digital art #danny phantom #danny phantom fanart #phanart #penelope spectra #dp spectra #dp fanart #i love being PEAK at mental/emotional combat and vlad being peak in physical combat as danny's enemies

[nicname]

”Oh if we didn’t have xenogenders/GNC trans people/neopronouns/MOGAI/etc etc etc then transphobes would respect us.” Untrue. Most transphobes are so insanely vitriolic that you could be the most standard, decent, agreeable trans person, and they would still hate you.

I’m a fairly basic trans man, online and off. I tone my gender down even more for work. I have short hair, facial hair, I wear pretty standard non-fitted pants and t shirts with some manner of compressive undergarment underneath, and I go by my fairly basic, common masc name. The only difference between me and my cis coworkers is that I openly engage in good-faith discussions about my being transgender when brought up, and I have a “he/him” pronoun pin I like to wear.

I have one coworker who I’m well aware has never gendered me correctly. I have assumed it was an intentional, bad-faith decision (because of other, unrelated-to-me conversations he has had with coworkers), but I’ve never really cared enough to bring it up to him. I figured, “if this is intentional, that’s his issue. I’m not interested in trying to change his mind.” I’ve reached a point in my transition to where I don’t really care that much if some random person doesn’t respect me or my gender, because I don’t need every stranger’s approval to be happy with myself.

With all that being said, I’ve treated him the same as I have every other coworker. I’ve been civil, I’ve been agreeable, I’ve still been friendly to him and haven’t gone around the workplace intending to smear his name. (Yes, I have discussed his behavior to those close to me who have asked, but I’ve kept it very private and said that as long as he doesn’t say anything outwardly malicious, I don’t really care about his behavior.) He has been outwardly friendly to me, too, telling me about his past careers, showing me pictures of his family, we’ve talked about our hobbies and other things we enjoy.

Still, after all of this, he has given up the ghost and decided to gossip about me negatively to coworkers. I won’t go into detail about what I’ve been told he said, but it was all explicitly transphobic and pretty aggressive. I’ve never gone out of my way to make him mad, relating to my gender or not, so it’s a little out of nowhere. I’m not particularly surprised by this, but I’m more surprised that he would be bold enough to say everything out loud when working for a company that has explicit protections for trans people in place. He was reported fairly quickly, without me ever knowing what occurred. The only reason I found out about everything is because I overheard a manager discussing it with a concerned coworker from my department.

So, if you take anything away from this, let it be that no amount of friendliness, gender-conformity, or civilness with stop a transphobe from taking their transphobia out on you, and it’s not your fault or any other trans person’s fault. Don’t victim blame trans people who become the subject of someone’s transphobic hate, because a transphobe is dedicated to harming trans people regardless of whether they blend in with cis people or not. Don’t use a transphobe’s needlessly malicious behavior as a reason to harass other trans, GNC, nonbinary, or otherwise gender diverse people.

#trans #transgender #transmasculine #trans pride #transgender pride #transgender man #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+ #lgbt+ #lgbtqia #lgbtqia+ #nic speaks #mogai #fixed typos and made it broader

[mo-aiki]

One-sided Love Exist... (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)

Summary: You have been in love with your fiancé, but all you know is that he isn't in love with you until you do something about it.

Notes: I got this inspiration from @mayulla, their story is here. Also, I might or might not do a part 2 for this story so wait on that

Warning: fake love, forced love, obsession, I don't condone these behaviors, I just write it.

Love.

Something you have always wished for to happen to you. All of the love stories you have read. You wished to be the princess saved by her knight or to be a princess who saves the one she loves. That was all you wanted. A knight or a prince in shining armor. That's where your fiancé came in.

A duke's son. Your fiancé, Alaric de Caius. He had seemed to fit the mold, perfectly. He looked regal and handsome with his black hair and dark blue eyes. You were only 9 when you had met him, but you couldn't help but smile when you first saw him.

Overtime you had absolutely fallen in love with him. He was a man of morals, he believe in the same things as you of what was right and wrong, he was academically talented, he was athletically talented, and he treated people around him the same whether or not they held a title.

A wonderful man.

But the problems arose when you had seen he had never paid attention towards you.

He never looked you way, seemed to say anything towards you, or seem to acknowledge you at all.

"Good morning Alaric!"

He wouldn't look.

You didn't understand why he ignored you. His indifference towards you, hurt. You didn't know if it was your ego that was hurting or it was truly your heart that was hurting, but something was in pain. But you didn't give up! Both of you were bound to get married to each other, one day!

Often talking to him first, soon enough he responded.

Bringing sweets such as cookies or sweet bread from the kitchen. Watching him eat it with no signs of disgust, might have made your day.

But you must also strive hard too! To be worthy of being a Duchess, you must help him by studying, taking up hobbies such as perfecting painting, embroidery and writing poems that have deep meanings. You must also know how to manage a household, so you asked your father if you could learn how to manage the servant's wages and everything going on in the household.

Everything you did was for him.

You did not partake in gossip with your bestest of friends, you didn't spread malicious rumors about someone, and you tried not to do the most selfish thing if there was a selfless option. Your friends, love you but saw you in pain. "Why do you do these stressful things (y/n)?" they would constantly ask.

"Because I am going to be future Duchess one day, I must prepare!" You would say cheerfully.

Alina Thompson.

Her family was new money. Her father was a merchant who was able to strike gold in selling a once thought, rare ore. Opening trades with the east, she has risen to become the daughter or Baron Thompson.

Your friends didn't like her. One of them saying, "There is something off about her..." and another saying, "Why does she look at Duke Caius like that..."

You had brought it up to Alaric one day. He said there was, "Nothing to worry about, she is just an acquaintance.", and at first you didn't worry, heck you even befriended her. She was pretty. Her hair, long and blonde, her eyes a bright green color like emeralds, and her smile the brightest you have ever seen. She often wore pink and you did as well. But she always seemed to not get along with your friends after a few meetings. Or any noble women in fact. She had always stirred the pot with the other women in high society, supposedly acting different as if she had 2 different personalities in front of others. But she had always gotten along with the men. They spoke high praises of her. From her looks to personality. She even had admirers of her own. She was perfect, but most women disliked her. But you didn't think anything of it.

Until the day of the royal ball.

You saw with your very own eyes. Alaric's arm, being held by her's. She had the brightest, most shameless smile that day. All the men looked uncomfortable while the women were shocked. It was no secret that you and Alaric were engaged. And it was definitely no secret that you were in love with him.

They danced together. They wore matching outfits. Even the flowers on both of their corsages were the same. He had smiled at her as they were dancing. He gave her, her first dance of high society at her first ball, a royal one in fact. There was no way he had no idea what he meant by his actions. Your heart shattered as your friends got mad at both of them.

"Why that sly fox! How could she betray your kindness like this?!"

"(y/n)! If you need to I can kill him myself!"

"No!" you had quietly yelled out.

You friends looked at you, worried on their faces. "(b/s/f #1), (b/s/f #2), I need to...go..."

You ran away towards the royal garden, letting your tears to flow down.

Once you got home, you destroyed the books, the gifts he gave you and finally sat down on the floor and cried you heart out.

Your heart had shattered that day, nothing felt like it was going to fix it. It felt like the end of the world.

The next day came, and you holed yourself up in your room.

Your bedroom door would not open. Nothing will work. Your father was worried, your friends, pestered at you, and the servants knock and check up on you as well. But even though you knew all these people cared, you truly only wanted one person to come and see you, Alaric.

You don't know if you were a masochist or not, but you did want answers.

Soon, one of the maids came in. "Leave me alone..." you mumbled in your pillow.

"No. Duke Caius is here to visit you. So I must get you ready, young lady."

You looked up at the maid as she chuckled. "What's so funny?" you asked almost like a pouting child.

"Your eyes are puffy my lady. If you do not want the Duke to notice it, I suggest you get ready, now."

You pouted as you got up.

The next thing you knew, you had seen Alaric. His perfectly combed over hair, his eyes, calm, and the placement of his lapels, in order as followed. You had bowed your head down slightly, as he sat down at the table.

You didn't even bother looking at him. If you did, you didn't think you could bear it. It was an embarrassing night for you. All you did was look at your tea, slowly stirring the sugar cube, looking at it and spacing out in the process.

"(y/n)?"

You looked up. This was the first time he had ever called out your name. He had always referred to you as Lady (l/n), out of formality, but he has never called out your name like you do his.

"Did you hear what I said?"

You took a moment and shook your head. "No, I'm sorry..."

"That's okay, I can say it again."

Why did your heart tug at this? You felt yourself being anxious for what he wanted to say. But first you wanted the answer to why he brought Alina to the royal ball the other night.

"I had brought out Lady Thompson to the ball a few nights ago, because of her father. He had wanted to make sure his daughter secured an escort for her first royal ball. He had insisted I had better escort her, otherwise she wouldn't come."

An excuse.

"I helped her father find the rare ore that had made him Baron. I must help him again."

Lies.

"So that's your excuse..." you mumbled out of your mouth.

He looked at you, his eyes were still. He had no emotion after what you had just said. "(y/n), it's the truth."

"Lies. We are engaged, but my debutant ball and first royal ball, you didn't escort me at all."

You remember it well. He had said he was busy, and you thought nothing of it, because he wouldn't escort or dance with anyone else anyways.

"When we had our first dance, you didn't even look at me."

It broke your heart that night when you both finally had that first dance you had been waiting for, only to be sad when he didn't smile, look or seemed to be enjoying it in any way.

"I had wanted us to get matching outfits, but you held it off saying, 'you hadn't gotten measured yet'."

He would get measured for an outfit for another woman, but not you? His own fiancé?

You felt nothing but anger now towards him. "Was it a waste of my time to devote it all towards you? I know your favorite snacks, colors, meal, drink, what to do as duchess..."

You felt like you were about to cry again, but tried to hold it in. "WAS IT ALL FOR NOTHING?!" your hands slammed the table as you felt your tears coming down your face as you looked at him.

Hoping he would say it wasn't in vain. That all of these things you did for him, would mean something.

"I had never asked you to do these things, (y/n). I am tired of your antics."

You couldn't believe you had ever loved this man.

You immediately went back inside, and into your room to cry once more.

Alaric has never needed anyone close to him.

He never understood you and your stupid antics to get closer towards him. From bringing snacks, to gifting the books he so wanted, to talking to him way to often.

He had an alright childhood. His father was sick and his mother was dead from childbirth, so he needed to become duke heir at a young age. Relying on himself to make the right or wrong decisions while his father's health deteriorated overtime.

His father wanted him to get married to his close friend, Marquis (l/n), so he arranged the engagement before his death, and after his death when he was 15, he kept it on because it was one of his father's final wishes. To see their families united.

But sometimes he couldn't stand (y/n). When he first met her, he had no opinions of her, other than the fact that she was nothing more than a clumsy girl trying to get his attention.

She was trying to live out fairytale romances through him. She had wanted him to be her knight in shining armor. And he didn't care for it.

He ignored her until she kept on pestering him.

Soon, they did their small talks.

He ignored the food she had gave him.

Until he ate it because he was hungry and it was his favorites.

He ignored her all throughout his childhood, because he never needed her as much as he did. He saw her as pathetic, but he couldn't help but fuel her pathetic attempts to get him to love her.

He did didn't need her. He didn't need her at all.

Plus, she was well liked. Both women and men liked her. But sometimes those men that liked her too much got on his nerves to the point of threatening them into silence. She didn't need him, she wanted him. And he didn't need her as well.

But he thought he felt something when he met Alina for the first time. But later, he realized it was nothing more than curiosity. But whenever he was around (y/n), there was always a feeling that he didn't know what it was, but always put it off, until it came creeping onto him whenever he was with Alina.

It was clear she was jealous of (y/n) and her life, so she had tried to mimic her. Her cheery attitude, beautiful smile, and her happy-go-lucky demeanor, even though he could tell that she was nothing more than hollow shell of an impression. She did all these things so that he could pay attention to her. But Alina was worse than (y/n).

Her personality and character are terrible.

She always seemed to get into fights with the other women. Whether petty drama or something a tad bit more serious. She had always seem to never get along with them. Unlike (y/n).

She was terrible at any financial things. Counting money properly, distributing money equally, and figuring out the budget. Unlike (y/n)

She had always seemed to look at others as if she was better than them. Often subtly bragging a new pendant, earrings, bracelet, shoes, dress, or hair accessories. Unlike (y/n)

Her tea was awful to drink. She always stepped on someone's toes for no good reason. Her embroidery was lackluster. Her paintings, a clear imitation. Unlike (y/n).

He remembered a time where (y/n)'s tea was bitter, when she stepped on someone's feet while dancing, when her paintings were dull, and when she had a hard time managing money. It was absolutely a clumsy and nerve-racking time. But slowly, it had shown improvement, unlike Alina's tea.

All of these hobbies that Alina had picked up and all of her personal quirks have cause him to realize one thing.

He would never look her way.

He picked Alina because he thought he could finally drive (y/n) away from her antics and say he is not interested in her at all.

When he went to the royal ball and was dancing with Alina, all he could ever think of was how (y/n) would react in the same situation. Her bright smile, cheerful eyes and glowing aura would all be very lovely. He couldn't help but unconsciously smile during the dance, and it seemed to have fueled Alina's determination to take her down.

But now he wonders why he had those thoughts during the dance with Alina.

She had holed up in her manor ever since that royal ball.

Alaric didn't see her. No letter, no snacks, no anything. Nothing had came. He should be elated. Happy. Excited. Joyful.

But all he felt was a big hole. A big empty hole somewhere in his body.

He had thought he had heard her all over the place. "Alaric. You need to stop overworking yourself to death! You might get sick!"

"It's none of your concerns, Lady (l/n)."

"Huh?"

He looked up from his paperwork, only to see his secretary looking at him, confused? "What did you say, Your Grace?"'

He looked down at his paperwork. "Nothing of note."

It happened again when he was reading through the manor's ledgers. "Can I help you with that Alaric? I'm very good with ledgers!"

"It is fine Lady (l/n)."

"Your Grace?"

Once again, he looked up only to see his butler, looking at him confused.

He felt like he was going insane.

He had developed a high fever one day from overworking. His butler called in the family's doctor, and the doctor said to take a break today.

But his fever kept on running, and the maids didn't know what to do. They gave him water that was too hot, his body kept on sweating, and they gave him food too salty for his condition. They were all incompetent when he was sick all of the sudden. And to top it off, his secretary still needed him to do paperwork for the estate.

During his time with his fever, he unconsciously only thought to see one person. (y/n).

He had wanted her to be by his side when he was sick. To take care of him and to see him recover. He wanted her to scold at him for overworking. He wanted to see her happy after he did recover from this fever. He had wanted to see her, no, he felt like he needed to see her.

He slowly opened his eyes as he was asleep for a bit. He thought he saw her in his groggy state. "...(y/n)..?"

Only to finally see clearly. It was Alina. And she looked pissed, but he was even more pissed. "How dare you! How dare you call out the name of that woman when I'm here?!"

He got up and yelled. "GUARDS!"

She got mad. "Oh, now you're calling the guards?! I came here to help you! And this is what I get?!"

He looked at her with contempt. "How did you know I was sick?"

She looked anxious. "The butler told me! He contacted me with a letter! Look!"

She pulled out a messily handwritten letter as people came up towards his room. His secretary and butler came to his side. "Who is this?" his secretary asked.

Alaric's head was banging, but managed to respond. "Lady Thompson. I do not know how she got here."

Alina looked scarred as the secretary called a maid to call the guards. "How did you get in here Lady Thompson?"

"I got here because the butler told me to come here because His Grace is sick!"

The butler looked confused. "I do not recall writing a letter to anyone."

Alina got mad. "Yes you did! I have the evidence!"

She held her letter as the secretary grabbed it out of her hands. "Butler, is this your handwriting?"

The butler fixed his glasses and shook his head. "I do not write this sloppily, even when writing fast."

Alina got even more mad as the guard got up the stairs. "Your Grace?"

"Take her away, and make sure she never sets foot in the estate again."

"Wha..? HEY!" The guards took Alina while she protested. All the servants went back to work as his secretary looked at him. "I will investigate where that letter came from, Your Grace."

Alaric looked at the ceiling as he started to lay down in his bed. "There is no need. But do investigate how she got in here and how she knew. We might have a stalker on our hands if I'm not careful..."

His secretary nodded. "Yes Your Grace, I hope you recover quickly, soon."

All he could do is stare up to the ceiling. Thinking. If (y/n) had done this, maybe he wouldn't had been as mad as he was back there. Maybe he would had enjoyed her trying to fumble out a response of how she knew he was sick. Maybe he would had enjoyed her antics of trying to cure him of his fever.

He couldn't help but chuckle as he slowly fell back asleep, dreaming.

When he had gotten better after 3 days, he immediately went to the (l/n) estate. He didn't know why, but he needed to go there after his fever.

He was led to the garden as he waited for her to get ready. Then he looked around. The garden was filled with flowers. Pink, white, purple, and blue flowers seemed to be her favorite. The servants brought out her favorite tea set. A pink and white ceramic one. He has only seen it every time she had hosted her friends. She only brought out the other tea sets with him.

She looked different. She looked less lively. Her skin looked pale, her eyes a bit puffy and her hands fiddling with the tea cup, nervously.

He had only brought up his purpose at being in at the royal ball with Alina, when she started talking about his shortcomings in their relationship.

How he didn't accompany her to her first ball, didn't look at her for their first dance, and how he always gave an excuse for not wearing matching outfits.

But something came out of his mouth when talking to her. "I had never asked you to do these things, (y/n). I am tired of your antics."

He felt annoyed at her behavior. She got too clingy and annoying now. Bringing up insignificant things. She got annoying in this very moment.

She soon ran away as he left the (l/n) estate.

He wanted to go home and rid his memories of her immature behavior. Hoping that her behavior won't continue again.

A/N: I should do a part 2. But you'll have to wait a while.

#yandere x reader #yandere childhood friend #yandere oc x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere duke #yandere duke x reader #x f reader

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Cruel Prince

♡ featuring: villain!diluc ragnvindr x princess!reader

♡ summary: you are forced to marry the manipulative prince of a faraway kingdom. malicious compliance ensues. wc: 3.2k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, forced orgasm, hate sex, no foreplay, breeding, heavy choking, spanking, face slapping, spit, creampie, hair pulling, rough sex, diluc is mega possessive

notes: I promiseee im gonna come out with shorter fics im so sorry i couldn't help myself the fanart is so good :(( art by eriimyon on twitter <3

Brilliance freckled through the silk drapes of your extravagant windows and onto your resting face. A silhouette rubs your arm, followed by “You must wake now, Your Grace.” Her amiable tone made your heavy eyes ajar, looking up to see the sweet twinkle of the maid. You sit up and stretch, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “Good morning!” you exclaim. She tucks the straggly hairs aside.   

“Good afternoon, you mean?”  

“Oh. Oops.” She shakes her head and hands you a lukewarm meal. This was a frequent occurrence, staying up late to twirl in your room until your feet ached. Fantasizing about the enchanting gambol you would share with your lover. When you eventually collapsed, you would dream of a man whisking you off to dance in a meadow. Being confined to the limited space of the baroque palace only intensified your curiosity. The kingdom your parent's shoulder is fruitful. Lined with riches and grateful civilians, all you know is comfortability. That comfortability bored you.  

“The king would like to speak with you downstairs once you’ve settled” she states. You give an exasperated sigh and flop onto the featherbed. You weren’t looking forward to this meeting. “M’kay. Thanks. Love you.”    

You make your way toward the dining room after breakfast. Almost every painting you skip by is of your older brother. It was no secret that you weren’t the favorite child. Your father wasn’t particularly fond of having a daughter. You slide down the railing of the grand staircase, entering the still air. Even the sound of your tiptoes carries volumes in complete quiet.  

“Did... someone die?” you say, trying to break the ice. Your brother and mother sit across from each other with their heads down, afraid to interrupt the king who sat at the end of the dining table.  

“No. Have a seat (Y/N).” he says, his hand signaling to the multitude of chairs remaining. You take the middle. Your father looks more stressed than usual, crescent shapes embedded between his eyebrows.  

“There is something we have to discuss” he proclaims, interlocking his fingers. “Sure.”  

“There’s been some disputes... between us. And the kingdom of Ragnvindr. Their king has been ill for many years now.”   

“That’s too bad for them” you say, checking out of the conversation. You know of the Ragnvindrs, but you weren’t interested. “It is. However, their commerce is flourishing. The civilians have an excess of resources. They’re the central hub for wine. If we had access to that, we could provide greatly for the public.”  

“Mm, okay.” Your mind darts to unique spots of detail decorating the ceiling.  

“Do you remember talking to Prince Diluc?” It hadn’t jogged your memory until now, but you recall one time the flaming redhead came to the palace a few months ago. You saw him in passing; exchanging few words in light-hearted conversation before he met with your father. You noted the calm scarlet pupils and his attentiveness when you spoke. He seemed amicable until you uncovered the rumors. Whenever your mother invited her friends, the walls would erupt with gossip. You couldn’t help but listen through the door. “- he tried to kill his father!” Your mother declines but another woman chimed in. “People don’t get suddenly ill like that. He must’ve poisoned him! The poor man can’t talk anymore so Prince Diluc runs everything.”  

“He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. Anyone who disagrees with him is beaten. Even death!” you heard the dramatic drawl of another. “Oh please, not with his brother around.” You thought it was funny and went straight to the maid to parrot their pompousness. It wasn’t until his brother died in their home weeks later under “mysterious circumstances”, that you started to take the allegations seriously.  

“He’s shaping out to be an exceptional young man.”  

“I guess. Why are you telling me this?” you ask. Your father sucks in a breath.  

“You are to marry Prince Diluc in a week’s time.” he declares. You freeze, beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. Your heart dropped to your stomach.  

“What? Whe- who decided this?”  

“It was a collective decision from me, your mother, and the Ragnvindrs.”  

“No! I didn’t get to decide. You took away my choice!”  

“(Y/N), this will ensure peace for both of our kingdoms. We shall do what’s best for the-”  

“I don’t know who he is. How could you do that to your own daughter, what kind of father marries their child off to a stranger?” Your voice gets increasingly louder. You were too irate to back down. Your father is seething. 

“We will not argue about this-” he mumbles, the veins on his hands bulging from the tightening fists. 

“Do you even know who he is? He killed his own brother, and his people fear his retaliation. He’ll backstab you at any chance if it means more power. He’s using you-”  

“ENOUGH!” Your father slammed his leaden fists on the table, causing a harrowing bang to ring in your ears. All you can do is look at him, shaking, searching for any semblance of hope. He was unwavering.  

“I hate you.” Your defeated voice falls to a murmur, and you stumble to your room in a haze.  

The next 6 days were vague. You stayed in your room mostly, the maid accompanying you as you cry on and off for hours. Rage burned inside you, it dented furniture and ripped up cushions. You were exhausted and vengeful. An instructor comes by occasionally to teach you for your wedding day, but you find no joy in it.  

You're tranquil in the luxuriant flower garden you once found solace in. A garden you’d never see again after tonight. Suddenly, you hear the gate creak open. Strawberry strands peek behind the sunflowers. It was Diluc. The silence was painful. “Hello.”  

“Hello. I figured it would be considerate to come see you briefly” he returns, grabbing your hand. You catch yourself staring.  

“We are to be married soon.”  

“...Right.”  

“You don’t seem to be happy about this arrangement.”  

“I’m sure you have many requests for your hand in marriage. Why me?”  

“I don’t have a say in it. You don’t either.” That can’t be right, their king is senile you thought.   

“That’s not true. I know what you’re really like.” His eyes narrow into yours. “You could turn this entire kingdom to ash if you willed it.”  

“You know naught of me.”  

“You killed your brother and now you’re after my father, aren’t you?” He’s relaxed despite the accusations.  

“What would you do? As long as we are wedded, you will obey.” You snatch your hand from him.  

“I will do no such thing” you utter, holding your head high. He laughs and lifts your chin with a finger, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek.  

“Such a naïve princess, so far beneath me. You will be mine. Act accordingly.” You want to slap that smug look off his face.  

“I’ll be going now. Don’t stay up too late.”  

Everything about your wedding is opulent. Visitors sport grandiose garments and intricate jewelry, leaving priceless gifts in your celebration. The travel to the kingdom of Ragnvindr was silent, minus the glares you shot to your parents. You disappear the minute you step down the aisle, taking notice of the guests. Faceless people with appropriated smiles and forced words of kindness; a scornful masquerade.  

Your vows are pitiful, and you wear an ingenuine smile for every “aww” in attendance. “I do” is said, and your fate is sealed through a chaste kiss.  

The dance arrived sooner than you thought. The floor was large and elegant, a thousand eyes watching you at the start of the staircase. You almost get stage fright. Diluc waits at the bottom, his gloved hand longing to take yours. You saunter to him. You expected him to be stiff and unprepared, but as you held his hand something changed. He scoops you by the waist with the other and twirls you around, igniting the music. His steps are effortless, bringing you near him and releasing you for another spin. The movements lift you into a different scene, of green pastures and bright blue sky. Only you and Diluc. The tune curled in your ears and whispered radiance. Your stride is loose, guided by the inducing notes and swinging pendant on your neck. Your arms glide past his chest and he steadies you gently in an intimate embrace. Dilucs lips barely hover over your ear.  

“You look stunning.”  

“I know. You look grotesque.” You feel a puff of wind against your ear. Glancing at him, you haven’t paid much attention to his appearance until now. His physique seemed to be chiseled from the finest marble, intentional with each contour. He smelled of musk and bitter vanilla, the warm glow of glittering chandeliers highlighting his rugged features.  

“You like what you see, hmm?” You didn’t reply.  

“Do you like to dance?”  

“It’s not your business.”  

“Well, if I'm right, you can dance here every day if you want. But you must behave.” His honeyed words made you hot, and you looked away. “No. You are my enemy.”  

“Very well, then.” He continued to entrap you, sewing seeds in your brain through the sway of your bodies. You were tangled in a field of thorns, pricked by his fleeting romantic gestures. It confused and enticed you. But the dance came to its end, and reality set in. He leaned down to kiss your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. The music resumes its normal pace, motioning people to return to the dance floor.  

The idea of Diluc displaying you like property tests your pettiness; you need his unruffled persona to snap. He watches you dance into the arms of another man, and you’re sure to make eye contact with him. You flash a mischievous smile as you spin through the exuberant crowd, leaving him behind. You thought you lost him. Just then, shade abruptly comes down on you and the nameless man. He turns first, cowering and slinking into the masses. You don’t face the shadow until your face is grabbed by leather and twisted sharply to encounter the reddening face of Diluc.  

“Have you lost your mind?”  

“If I’m beneath you, this shouldn’t bother you, right?” you say, smiling at your ability to break him.  

He grits his teeth. “You are forbidden from interacting with any man.”  

“By whom? Your words mean nothing.” He gets closer to you; a death stare bore into your pleased expression. “If you’re angry, do something.”  

You’ve never been hauled anywhere this fast. He pulled you through the bustling room and up the stairs with absurd force, not turning to you once. You were nearly hovering off the ground from his strength. He opened the sculpted doors leading to his bedroom and pushed you inside. Before you can see him, he pins you between himself and the ornate vanity. His nails stab into the wood the more he waits for your explanation.   

“What happened to your composure?” you taunt.  

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”  

“Not yours.” His lips share space with yours, noses scarcely touching.   

“Sorely mistaken. You belong to me.”  

“Prove it.”   

Carnal lust washed over you. Your lips instantly collide, cracking dams of yearning through sloppy kisses and smacking teeth. His tongue is demanding and seeks entry, but you deny him. He grabs your neck tightly.  

“Open.”  

“Say please.” Diluc pries your lips open with his fingers, playing with the wet mass while he nips your ear. The foreign feeling in your mouth makes your mind numb.  

“Nasty little minx.” he husks, forcing your tongue to stick out before it contacts his. His kisses are deep and primal, holding you close to the point of merging. He’s squeezing your neck occasionally and teasing the dizzying airflow. The fire cascading down his back envelopes you in a slow bleed, tickling your chest and face. His scent surrounds you, exhilarates you. You pierce his bottom lip with your teeth, looking to regain some sense of control and he groans from the feeling. He promptly hoists you off the ground with your back facing the vanity and his hands on your ass. His greed doesn’t stop, plunging and contorting the organ in unreachable places. You taste sprinkles of metallic flavor. The sensation has your knees weak. You push him away, both breathing heavily with a trail of spit between you.   

“This is nothing like the ceremony kiss.”  

“Don’t you want my full honesty?” he rasped. He dips down to your upper thigh, past the slit in your dress. His pointed fangs catch onto your garter, and he slips it off, groping the plush flesh as he lifts your leg up. Your fingers intertwine with his scalp and tug it, earning a harsh bite on your inner thigh. Rough kisses drag up your body until he makes it back to your lips. You tear his button-down open, navigating the solid muscle under the fabric. Light purple marks are left in your wake that decorate his collarbone. Diluc splits your dress down the back and shreds it off you. You're soaked, relishing in the volatile nature beyond the mask.  

He picks you up and hurls you on the bed, following you on top. You wrestle for dominance, entwined in passion. Somehow, Diluc ends up underneath you, your legs on both sides of him. You take this opportunity to pin his wrists and grind on his throbbing length. He lets you have it knowing that he’s stronger than you are. He kicks off his slacks and you pull down his stained boxers. A sudden fear hits you once they’re removed; his slightly curved cock was impossibly long and girthy, precome trickling down the angry tip. You weren’t sure it would fit.  

“You’re just going to gawk at it?” he says, restless from the ache. Nervousness blends in your gut. You wanted him badly, but you had to make him suffer for at least some time. Hovering over it, you slather his tip in your juices and admire the way he bites his lip. You lower your folds onto him, submerging the cockhead and leave it there, stirring your hips with it inside only to pull it out. Diluc is disheveled, star fished, and spread wildly across the sheets as he grunts from each plunge. He had to feel you, to claim you. 

“You want it?”  

“I don’t beg” he says flatly. You roll your eyes, immersing his shaft halfway. He releases a long shaky groan and attempts to buck his hips, but you rise before he can go further. His cock was covered in syrupy fluids from the moments of friction, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. 

“You won’t get anything with that repulsive attitude” you tease, and start moving at a leisurely pace, carefully stretching yourself out.  

“Repulsive, yet using me for your desires?”  

“That’s all you’re good for.” You’re shuddering from the feeling of your walls molding to the bruising size.  

“Then I’ll be sure to satisfy you.” His calloused fingers break out of your sparing clutch and grab your hips, jerking you down to the hilt with a soggy plap. The wind is knocked out of you, shockwaves through your spine as you heaved over trembling. It hurts, but you can’t help but feel aroused by the desperate look he gave you. “Mm good, you’re sucking me so tight.”   

“Shit- slow down-” you plead. He wraps his arms around your hips, arching your back and leaning you forward. “Quiet.” Diluc bends his knees and begins to bully his way into your cunt.  His thrusts are unforgiving, if he wasn’t holding you in place, you’d be airborne. He slips out completely and rams into you so deep it feels like he's burrowing into your stomach; yet you grip him like a vice, hungry for more. You were melting and all you heard was his quick beating heart and the wet squelching clash of your bodies. Diluc shifts to the vanity mirror opposite the bed, entranced by the violent rippling of your ass and sticky strings your puffy vulva left. You’re teeming on an orgasm, blurring the lines of pleasure and pain. 

“I’m gonna come- ah!” His hands move to your ass, striking each side hard enough to welt numerous times. He digs his nails into the searing flesh, savoring it. “Louder, I want everyone to know who owns you” he says and pushes his fingers in your mouth to pull your jaw slack. You deliver, allowing your erotic wails to echo through the halls. “Come for me princess.” His command sends you over the edge and you’re dissolved into pleasure, zeroing in on his guttural moans, the low fuck’s stuttering out of him. Your nails score his chest. He spreads your backside, enjoying the view of your convulsing heat drenching his balls.  

Diluc flips you over on your back before you’re done gathering yourself. He tosses the damp shirt on the floor and reveals the crisp v-line deliciously carved under his sculpted abs. He manhandles you into a pretzel, securing your sore thighs. He puts his hands on yours and pushes them back further. “Fucking filthy, you’re such a mess” he says, smearing his leaking shaft up and down your hypersensitive clit. He quickly engulfs himself in your gooey warmth again and sighs. “You’re beautiful like this.” He’s pounding hard, foreheads touching and breath mixing. You’re both sweating, mascara running down your cheeks and needy moans leaving either of you from addictive ecstasy. His tip licks your sweet spot consistently and your eyes loll back. “That’s it, take my cock like a good wife.” One hand reaches for your throat while the other flicks your clit rapidly. The firm grip dots your vision black, and you pulse from sick delight. He stops occasionally to slap you across your face. It stings, you hate him, but the spasming veins caressing your walls make you question that belief. “Oh my god - look at you” he moans, staring at the shiny white ring forming at the base of his thrusts. Your hands find passage in his thick tresses and guide his attention to you. The coil threatened to snap at any minute. “Gonna carry my baby, then you can never leave.”  

Your blood runs cold. “Huh? Wait-” You try to budge but he’s stronger than you, sweeping the nub faster with ravenous strokes. Electricity consumes your rational thoughts with a thumping finish, cloudy and fluttering. “Ngh- you’ll look so pretty with a belly” Diluc groans and chases his high. His eyes are glossed over, he throws his head back and finally falls apart, creamy ropes coating your insides with his balls flush against you. He pants as if he’s moved mountains and twitches from slow strokes, trying to get his come as deep in you as possible. His thumb presses upon your lips and you instinctively open your mouth. Spit settles on your tongue and he watches you swallow. You taste his kiss right after. When he pulls out, globs of semen dribble out your slit, but he fingers it back inside.   

“Keep it in” he says darkly. He glances at the pendant you’re still wearing—an invaluable heirloom from your parents—and snatches the chain off your neck. In one devastating hurl, he shatters it on the floor. “I’ll make sure you only have me.” 

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #diluc x you #diluc smut

[thebibliosphere]

In somewhat humorous news, my mother got into a quandary today involving some former coworkers.

Before Hunger Pangs broke containment, I asked my mother not to tell people back home what my author name was because I didn't want to deal with the homophobia I'd get from certain family members if they knew I was writing queer romance. I also didn't want certain people to know because I knew they'd find my social media and fucking doxx me. Not out of any maliciousness, mind you, but just sheer fucking Internet safety incompetence.

Like we're talking the type of people who'll go onto your Instagram and use your full birth name-- regardless of your preferred name -- while asking if you remembered hanging out that one time near your parent's house-- you know, the place with the [RECOGNIZABLE LANDMARK] next to the [PRACTICALLY A GPS LOCATION.]

Yeah.

Anyway, my mother was cool with that because she also, quite frankly, didn't want people to know her only daughter was writing queer filth for a living. (Does anyone else remember when she told me I should apologize to @mothman-etd's mother for writing sex in my stories? Because I sure do.) That was until Hunger Pangs broke containment, and my mother, to her own shock, decided she was proud of me.

I think it was when she logged onto Amazon, expecting to see people one-starring it and calling it degenerate filth, but instead found over 300+ 5-star reviews screaming about how much they loved it and how much it meant to them, that she realized that maybe, sometimes, sex stories are okay.

(Amazingly, she pivoted and latched onto Vlad smoking being the worst thing about it and how I should be ashamed to write about characters that smoke, lol.)

Anyway. She bumped into an old coworker today and was so excited to tell them how well I was doing she forgot that a) she doesn't like telling people what I write about and b) I'd asked her not to tell certain people that it wasn't until she'd gotten through the whole "oh yes, doing very well, living in America writing books" spiel that she realized what she'd done and clamped her mouth shut.

She didn't name me or the book title, but it was too late because said former coworker went and told everyone else she used to work with, and now my mother's been invited to tea at the local church village tea shop with an ensemble of formidable gossips, specifically to talk about my book.

So, anyway, I may or may not be about to get accidentally doxxed, but my mother is the one about to walk into the local church and tell everyone the kid they threw out 20+ years ago for being a disobedient pain in the ass with Views about Christianity is now relatively popular online for writing best-selling queer romance novels about vampires and werewolves fucking in a soft BDSM dynamic, featuring blatant magic use and a prologue which talks explicitly about imprisoning and killing God(s).

*jazz hands*

#loool #hunger pangs adjacent

[seonghwaddict]

EYES DON’T LIE — iii. a worthy competitor.

synopsis. you've always resented jeong yunho, and you were positive that the end of high school would've marked the end of your rivalry and hatred. yet now you find yourself in the same crappy hotel as him. assigned to be right next to each other much like the good old times.

pairing. jeong yunho x fem! reader. genre. mini-series, fluff, slice of life, mature, academic rivals to lovers, non-idol au. chapter warnings. swearing.

word count. 2.1k. rating. pg-13

chapter ii. chapter iii. chapter iv.

yunho’s life post high school was blissful, to say the least.

he went to his dream university and just like you graduated as the top student of that year. not long after that he landed a job at a relatively large tech company and after promotion upon promotion, he became the multi-billion-won company’s CTO. He lived lavishly; a shining example of what he was able to achieve thanks to his determination and unwavering passion.

at least until all of that came crashing down.

because the CEO just had to get involved in activities that became the downfall of the company. unbeknownst to him, the CEO had been part of an underground piracy organisation and sold the private information of millions of users to malicious parties. when the news got to the police, well… it was chaos. law enforcement swarmed the headquarters to detain the CEO as well as anyone that was identified on the list of people involved. a mess that he had no part of.

in hindsight, yunho should be carrying more than the company card and a suitcase when traveling for business trips, during which all this news got out. but how was he supposed to know he’d go from a highly respected worker to jobless in a matter of 24 hours?

and so he found himself in a shitty hotel, paying with the few bills he could find after rummaging around in his bag. the company card declined when he tried booking a different hotel—the fancy one the company had paid for forced him to leave after they found out he was affiliated with that company. for obvious reasons, he had been confused until he checked his phone for the first time that day and found hundreds of notifications flooding the lock screen that depicted picture of him and his best friend.

speaking of his best friend.

as soon as got into his his temporary bedroom—aka the hotel room that smelled so odd he opened the window as wide as he could and stuck his head out to avoid the stench—he called the man he’s known since they were toddlers, ranting about the situation. unsurprisingly, he found the situation immensely funny.

“so you’re poor now?”

“no, mingi, i just don’t have my personal card. i’ll go withdraw money tomorrow morning.” yunho propped his camera up on the small desk opposite the bed, leaning back in the creaking wooden chair as he rubbed at his temples, dreading the oncoming headache he was starting to feel. “but i’m jobless, for now.”

mingi pursed his lips, nose scrunching as he looked at his phone screen, watching how distressed yunho looked. “how can i help you, then?”

a shrug was the first response he got. “just-” the rotating chair squeaked as yunho leaned a bit further to stare up at the ceiling for a moment before reverting his gaze back to his phone. “just talk to me about something else, distract me for now.”

“okay then,” the fake blond’s face brightened and a wide grin spread across his face as he sat up and leaned closer. “so, you know my boss hongjoong, right?”

and so the next ten minutes were filled with him gossiping about how his boss seemed to have the hots for a cute reporter. yunho listened, grateful to get his mind off his current predicament, but barely registered any words being said. he occasionally replied with agreeing hums or other reactions suitable for the context, but he couldn’t help but feel the tell tale signs of his body wanting to rest. mingi seemed to catch on as he paused his story and squinted at his phone screen, catching the way his best friend’s eyes drooped with fatigue.

“hello? earth to yunho?”

he stirred awake, snorting in a breath before yawning. he checked the time on his very expensive watch briefly before his eyes flickered back up to mingi.

“you look tired, man,” worry was written all over his face, sure he could already see dark circles forming under yunho’s eyes. “get some rest.”

“yeah… yeah, that’s a good idea.” yunho spoke through his yawn, hand covering his open mouth.

they said their goodbyes and ended the call. yunho sat in silence for a moment. he turned the chair, inspecting the bed. it was sad, small and pretty empty. wishing he was back home on his soft king sized bed, he poked the mattress, frowning at the firmness before pulling back and looking at the pillows. well, pillow. singular. while the mattress felt to stiff, the pillow the opposite. he got up to check the little closet for another pillow that he could stack on top to add some firmness, but to no avail.

after a moment of hesitation, he decided to ask the guy at the lobby if he could possibly have an extra pillow. before head for the door, he stopped in the bathroom, checking his teeth and brushing his hand through his dark hair, a little overgrown and resembling a mullet. he fixed the tie of his suit that he had yet to take off and left the bathroom, his hand wrapping around the door handle of the room and pulling it open.

as he stepped out, his temporary neighbour seemed to have just arrived. turning to greet the stranger, he stopped in his tracks just as she had.

what a perfect end to his day. the cherry on top, really.

truthfully, he hadn’t given you much thought after your high school graduation. (he actually did. a friend of his went to the same university as you and he’d occasionally ask him if he knew how you were doing). but seeing you now, he realised you hadn’t changed much. of course, you seemed to have a grown a tiny bit and you looked more mature, but those eyes—those soft eyes, so pretty, red and puffy through your tears—were undeniably yours. he recognised you before he recognised the state you were in, a sobbing mess. in all the years he had known you, he doesn’t recall ever seeing you cry. seeing you like this, with flushed and tear stained cheeks, made his head spin for a moment.

before he could open his mouth to say anything, you were gone. he watched the door of your room fall shut, followed by a thud from inside the room. what it may have been—a kick to the wall, a punch, an item thrown across the room—he wouldn’t have been able to tell as he stared at the door dumbly. he wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but what else was he supposed to do when he ran into you of all people in this obscure hotel and somehow ended up next to each other?

watching you disappear through that door reminded him too much of the last time he saw you.

though it had been a warm summer, it rained on the last day of school. having checked the weather, he brought an umbrella with him. but as he watched you stand front of the entrance of the school, alone and looking out into the rain without a jacket, let alone an umbrella, with a conflicted frown and nothing to protect you from the rain but the roof, he found himself caring about you. before he realised it, he stood in front of you, holding out his black umbrella and consequently getting a little wet.

you couldn’t help but stare at him, your gaze switching between his unusually sincere face and hand extending the red handle of the umbrella. you shook your head, insisting that you won’t take it, but he cut you off.

“come on, it’s just an umbrella, i have no problem walking home in the rain.”

“no, please, yunho, it’s your umbrella, i’ll figure something out. you’ll get sick.”

after some more back and forth, he offered a compromise. you could walk home together.

and that’s exactly what the two of you did. you walked side by side, squeezed together under the umbrella, droplets of rain occasionally hitting your right shoulder or his left shoulder. despite the weather, it was oddly peaceful. a steady conversation flowed between the two of you, free of any teasing or insults. you weren’t quite sure why he was being so nice, but you supposed it was the last you’d see each other before heading separate ways.

unfortunately, the two of you thought at the time, you lived in the same apartment building. while you lived on the third floor, he was up on the fifth. he decided it only made sense to walk you to your place first. unlike your walk outside, the short journey from the elevator to your front door was dead silent. even when you got to the front door, neither of you spoke for a moment until he cleared his throat, his voice almost… emotional?

“i guess this is it, huh?”

“yeah… i guess… have fun finding a better, funnier, smarter rival in college.”

“nah, i don’t think i’ll even bother.”

“hm? really? i thought you’re all about that competition.”

“yeah, but you’re the only person worth competing with.”

he’d never forget the way your eyes widened comically as you looked at him after that, a blush so faint it was easy to miss in this horrible lighting. maybe all the people saying you’d make a good couple were on to something. still, he knew you’d never see each other again, there was no point in trying anything. his cell phone rang, interrupting the tense silence. it was his mother, telling him to hurry and get home.

“i… uh, i have to go… but i’ll see you around, someday?”

you smiled, a smile so genuine his stomach did a cartwheel.

“i’ll see you around, someday.”

you stared at each other for a moment, stood across from each other in the hallway. he wasn’t sure what to do. should he hug you? should he just turn and leave? you seemed just as conflicted. after a long minute, you both extended your hands for a handshake at the same time. a small laugh was shared as your hands intertwined in a slow handshake, holding onto each other a few moments too long. his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand gently. he gave it a small squeeze before letting go and bowing his head, winking playfully.

“good luck out there, y/n.”

“likewise, yunho.”

and with the you disappeared through the front door, much like you had moments ago. though at that time you didn’t look so heartbroken. eventually he got himself to put one foot in front of the other and head to the lobby for his original mission.

he thanked the lobby man quietly as he was handed two more pillows, his mind still occupied with you. you’d think that whatever he felt for you on that last day would’ve dissipated by now, but that was quite the opposite. despite it having been so many years, seeing you again felt like a punch to his throat.

on his way back to his room, he thought about knocking on your door for a split second. in the end, he concluded you probably wouldn’t want to talk to him. he wasn’t sure what he would’ve said anyway. hey, it’s really nice seeing you again, by the way did i mention that i’ve realised i had a massive crush on you that time we said goodbye and those feelings haven’t gone away?

no, absolutely fucking not.

he nearly slapped himself at the hypothetical monologue, dragging himself to his hotel room. a soft thump resounded as he tossed the pillows on his bed before undressing and getting under the thin covers. the time it took for him to fall asleep was unclear as he stared up at the ceiling. whoever rented the room above him seemed to want to make a joke in the ground, thundering stomps making the ceiling and his open window shake.

had he not stepped out at that time to get pillow and bumped into you, he would’ve probably been cursing and swearing to himself to get out of this place first thing in the morning. but, considering who his current neighbour was, he couldn’t help but think…

would one or two more days really be so bad?

[ lilo's notes . . . ] hii sorry it took so long to update this, i hope this makes up for it 💔💔 we finally get a little gimped into yunho’s feelings!! yippee!! i’m sorry he comes off as a little stuck up near the beginning, but please understand he went from a luxurious suite to a hotel on the brink of falling apart; i think most people would be a little disappointed 🙏🙏 he’s not a bad guy i promise

[ networks . . . ] @cromernet @wonderlandnet

[ taglist | series + permanent . . . ] @yuyusuyu @diorwoo @loveyluv7 @ad0rechuu @h-nji @nakiiko @lelaleleb @moon-gyus @baribaaari @bvidzsoo @kunikku @kyeos4ng @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbbg @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo

#★ — › EYES DON'T LIE ! #cromernet #wonderlandnet #yunho x reader #yunho imagines #yunho reactions #yunho angst #yunho scenarios #yunho headcanons #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez drabble #yunho drabble #yunho fluff #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez angst

[katsukikitten]

now you’ve got me thinking about reader giving husband bakugou a handjob in the car after their cutesy little date, and he’s just fucking throbbing because of the ring on your finger while you stroke him………..

SCREAM YOU GET IT BISC

The entire date is easy, domestic, just shared talk about plans for tomorrow or gossip you picked up while scrolling on your phone during the drive over.

As per tradition you both order something different just to split the portion down the middle and share the other half. Although fair shares in dessert is different, Bakugou makes his cut smaller knowing how much you love sweets while he cares for spicy. Giving a cocky smirk but his eyes are that of his soft smile, really taking you in as you dance in your chair from the first bite of the overly rich chocolate dessert.

So by the time the two of you get to the car he doesn't remember his little tease. He was only half joking but there were times he's man handled you into the back seat to bend you at painful angles to finger fuck and lick you in.

He gets the passenger door for you and leans down to give you a kiss before he rounds the car while you bite your lip.

Maybe this time you'll catch him by surprise.

Letting him get half way down the road before your left hand slips onto his thigh. Nothing new, it's very innocent considering it's a habit of his you picked up. Gripping the others thigh just for comfort.

But what is new, least while he's driving, is your manicured claws dancing up the inseam, tracing the outline of his cock while he glances down at you in a glare.

"Oi, princess. Don't start what ya can't finish."

"Oh I know I can finish this." Your voice is sultry and sinful, no where is your playful tease before you stop. No,no you continue. Teasing him until his painfully hard under his nice dress slacks, angling yourself so that he can get a good view down your shirt, pushing your tits together with your arms as you slowly undo his zipper.

"Sweetheart." He gives a warning bite that you don't heed. Pulling him from the confines of his pants and boxer briefs, the tip weeping silvery pre.

Your thoughts of hand job quickly go to head before Katsuki is fisting your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

"Remember what happened last time baby?" His voice a mix of concern and agitation. Like he wishes he didn't have to be the voice of reason but putting your life in danger, a second time, wasn't worth cumming down your throat. Besides he could have you on your knees for him any time.

"Well..." You flash your ring at him, knowing he often looks at it before pouncing onto you, wrapping your pretty hand around his cock to give a teasing pump, "How about this?"

His groan is his answer and he slowly releases your hair, forcing himself to focus when he knows you're going to end up edging him for the better part of the hour.

Changing your pace exactly how he likes and gripping him just right. Making sure your ring is facing him before you lewdly let spit drip from your tongue to his cock for more lubrication.

His eyes flutter and he groans again, forcing himself to focus even as your cute hand jerks him off at 85mph. Increasing your speed when you see him bite his lip knowing he's close before his hand grabs onto your wrist tightly, leaving you gripping at the base of his cock.

"Don't make me cum." He pants, sweat on his brow and hair a mess from how he pressed his head against the car seat, yet still he looks as if he's in charge. Smirk on his lips, malicious gaze in his eyes,

"Cause I gotta make sure I stuff my wife full tonight." He leans closer, eyes still on you before he whispers in your ear, tapping his ring against yours in the same rhythm he was fucking you in earlier.

"Then I can lick my wife clean til she begs me to stop."

This time you know he won't forget his teasing remark because this time it's more than a threat, it's a promise.

#kitten chats 🖤🐈‍⬛ #kitten writes 🖤🐈‍⬛🖋️ #bakugou smut

[celestialtarot11]

Your Next Romantic Partner 💘🍻🤍 What are they like?

Hi friends!! I got a new deck (3 actually) and the cards are gorgeous 😍 I’m absolutely in love with them. Hoping to post on youtube sometime soon! Let me know your feedback on this reading and do enjoy 👀 its spicy up in here. Pick a pile below! 💘💍

Pile 1 💘💍: Hi pile 1’s! This person is ready to go and ready to show you their hot side. They are passionate, driven, talented and multifaceted. Very skilled! And may like writing, film making, or be a social media influencer. This person comes across shocking, bold, daunting and charismatic. They love a good challenge. Many people may have gossiped and spread rumors but it does not stop this person from carrying on 💅🏻 this person may do a lot of self reflection which is not something people usually think of them. They have a serious and diplomatic side to them that is surprising to see. This person is quick to cut people off if the vibes are off, and they are quick to see beyond what people don’t see. Meaning they’re fast at seeing through the ego. They themselves may have an ego issue that they are working through as well, and they don’t like it when people see this reflective diplomatic side to them. They think it should be reserved for those special only. It’s a side of them that is serious and thinks about life, reflecting on the cosmos and what’s out there. This person has the tendency to hide due to egotistical issues, and they know this. They are working through seeing their bullshit to be better for others and themselves. I heard “who said I can’t have fun while I do this?” 💅🏻 this person wants to have fun as they are healing! ❤️‍🩹 A lot of people could surround this person so seeing them with you would be surprising, depending on what kind of group they are around they could project and gossip, or welcome you with loving arms. This person knows people want them, but they don’t want everyone 💅🏻😤 this person is such a girlboss but obviously doesn’t need to be a girl 🤣 Anyway pile 1’s! Thats what I have for you 🤍💅🏻 don’t be surprised if you catch yourself staring at this person constantly! Your picture below —>

Pile 2 🙌🍻: Hey lovely pile 2’s! Welcome! 🤗🙌 Your person could be someone you once knew in the past. This person wants to come into your life but honestly I see that this person has a lot of emotional maturing to do. They’ve been hurt tremendously in the past, and this is true if this is a new person. This past and new person are afraid to open up, so they want to take it slow and be cautious. They are quick to leave if conflict happens, they seem flighty and confused. This person does not have malicious intentions, they are like a deer in headlights ❤️‍🩹 due to their past they feel the pain can happen any moment. But this past person has a lot to overcome when it comes to self sabotage, and with you they feel they want to try and work it out. It will take time and patience for them to calm down and release their past. This person could already stalk your social media. For those who do not resonate with this being a past person, this person observes everything you do out of fear they’ll get hurt. And they may try to play it off that they aren’t afraid but deep down you know its not true. Lots of nonchalance and guarding here. It takes a long time to bring down those walls, and effort. This person is scared deep down of abandonment, so they may reenact cycles of it. Either way, there’s a lot of self sabotage here and pile 2’s you do not have to parent this person. It is their job to heal and liberate themselves from their past ❤️‍🩹 if you are in the process of releasing this person that’s your decision and stand by it. Please take care pile 2’s and know your worth 🤗❤️‍🩹 Your picture below —>

Pile 3 💪💘: Hi pile 3’s! Looks like some of ya’ll are getting asked out by someone who appears shy. This person may try to play it cool or be skittish, but they are a romantic at heart. And they love a good passionate romance. They love to play loud music, dance, maybe play the electronic guitar. Its their vibe. They come across as a rock, but they are like fire underneath for you. You move this person in a completely different way, they’re more in tune with their heart and something else…🍆 this is 18+ which this reading is not! But they definitely have a lot of that going on. They want to ask you out and they think they’re all cool and chill, its so funny because they’ll act nonchalant, and then maybe they trip or something and get flustered. Thats the energy I get. But this person is also brave and takes risks. This person has so much to tell you and say to you, and they can’t wait to get it out. They want you to know. And they will tell you! If this is someone you know, they will reach out soon. They want you in their life, and they want to play it cool. Honestly they know its a facade and they know it’ll drop, but for the plot they want to keep it cool 🤣 this person is such a vibe and most likely will send you memes and shitposts for fun. They do enjoy spending time with you though and at some point they want to share their feelings and fears, but it will take intimacy to get there. Lots of time and effort. This person wants a hearty connection with laughter and eccentricity. Thats who they are, and they want that in return. Thank you for reading pile 3’s!! This was so cool and hope to see you around 🤗🤍 Your picture below—>

Thank ya’ll for reading and hope you enjoyed 🤗💅🏻 likes comments and reblogs always appreciated! If you ever want to check out my youtube channel I would appreciate it 💗 and if you ever want to leave a tip at $celestialtarot on cashapp its greatly appreciated 🤗💗

Book a reading with me here 🤍

Check out my youtube channel 🥹💘

#devi post #astrology #tarotcommunity #divination #astrology community #tarot #tarot deck #witchcraft #tarot reading #tarot community #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #pick one

[2smolbeans]

Yandere Asmodeus x Cupid Mc

A/N: This was unedited and scrambled. I might add on to this in the future- but for now this is just some brain rot lol. If anyone wants to add on or use this idea for themselves, feel free! Just give me credit ^^

____________________________

Cupid! Mc who would spend centuries doing their duties as a cupid, walking amongst the human world and influcing the feeling of love amongst people.

Cupid! Mc, who was the cupid of Eros, often pondered if demons could ever fall in love. Love is a natural feeling, whether it be platonic, romantic, or familial - so could the worst of the worst feel something genuine like that?

Cupid! Mc was curious when they heard about the exchange program for angels, demons, and humans to get along. Maybe they would get to meet new creatures alike!

Cupid! Mc, who decided to apply to the program out of pure wonder if a creature who was neither angelic, demonic, or human could join the Royal Academy of Diavolo.

Cupid! Mc who often found themselves the main attraction of the school. Somehow, always finding a group of demons staring at them with malicious intent.

Cupid! Mc who somehow found themselves befriending a group of incubi and sucubi. It was eye-opening meeting a bunch of beings who were the polar opposite of you. Regardless, they helped you around while they bombarded you with questions.

Cupid! Mc, after staying in devildom for years, would eventually be introduced to the king of lust himself, Asmodeus. With the personification of love being in hell, of course, the personification of lust would come along.

Asmodeus! Who would rush at you with exciment, stating how he's it's been a while since he's encountered a cupid and asked how your goddess the "Bitchy jealous Aphrodite" was doing.

Asmodeus! Who would always stick by your side, claiming how a dove like you should be careful in hell. Generously offering to be your tour guide while he showered you with companionship.

Asmodeus! As the king of lust, was surprisingly modest with you. To your surprise, he was in no rush to get in between your pants but rather trying his hardest to keep his reputation with you on a good note.

Asmodeus! Who you soon got to know as a close friend was a selfish individual. Casually sleeping with those left and right while breaking hearts along the way simply because he was bored.

Cupid! Mc, who doesn't expect much from the avatar of lust just simply accepts him for who he is. They don't understand why lust is so tempting for someone.. Regardless, they simply turn the other way and continue to treat Asmodeus as a friend.

Cupid! Mc, who begins to find themselves closer with Asmodeus. No longer seeing them just as the avatar of lust - but a trustworthy friend they could gossip with and someone to go to advice.

Asmodeus! Who is conflicted about how he feels about Mc begins to question them and their relationship. After all, someone always wants something..

_____________________

"Why are you still here with me? I'm not trying to be pretentious or anything, but..I'm..Well y'know? Isn't that enough to drive you away?"

"No..Not really. I mean I know what you are, and I know what you've done. You can't help it! It's just who you are"

"W-Well, yeah..I guess. But you're okay with that?"

"Ruining people's lives, preying on innocent people. No. Of course not! But, you've been good to me, and I think that's the best you've done. Why? Aren't you usually like 'Oh! Well they deserved it!' Or 'Meh, sucks to be them'?"

"I mean yeah! They were asking for it. It's not like I directly ruined their lives. They came to me first! But you..Aren't you disgusted of me?"

"No, actually not at all. I get it. We're similar actually. Constantly chasing a high that only someone can give us..Yeah?"

"Yeah..You..You get me"

________________________

Asmodeus! Who gained a new perspective about you eversince that conversation begins to feel..Anxious about you. He's never felt this way, and he hates it. He's never felt so insecure about his relationship with someone.

Asmodeus! Who begins to scratch at his skin whenever he sees you talk amongst other demons. Jealousy..He's never felt it before with others.. Why was it with you?

Asmodeus! Who wants to get rid of this awful feeling, sleeps around with whoever he can find. Trying to distract himself from you plauging his mind. But no matter what, it never helped..

Asmodeus! Who slowly loses his mind whenever you speak your mind. When was the last time someone spoke to him without wanting something? If you were to leave, would he ever have that again?

Asmodeus! Who slowly reveals his ugly flaws around you. He's slowly falling at the seems with his alienated feelings towards you..

Asmodeus! Who finally snaps under the pressure of his internal struggle decides to do something about it. His solution? Keeping you locked up until he figures out what you are to him and what he wants with you.

Asmodeus! Who sweetly smiled at you, wrapping his arms around your waist while cooing those words that seemed to mush inside your head.

Asmodeus! Who had successfully lulled you inside his room keeps you locked up in a nice set of chains.

Asmodeus! Who reveals himself to be a desperate and emotionally starved demon, whines for your attention and affection. Threatening to clip off your wings whenever you ignore him, blaming you for bewitching him to fall in love with you. That's what it was, right?!

Asmodeus! Who after pulling you into a kiss realises what you are to him. You're more than just a typical hookup or 'partner'. You were someone he genuinely loved. Which was embarrassing him to admit since he always believed:

"Love and lust cannot mix. Literally, I'm not capable of it. No matter how much someone treats me good, unfortunately for them, I won't fall in love. Hell, I don't think I've ever had an actual butterflies in my stomach crush for anyone!"

Asmodeus! Even though obessed and greedy for your attention- it is pathetically starved for your approval. He won't push any moves on you, but he'll constantly shower you with kisses, self care, and gifts just to see you contempt!

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(Annd that's all I have. I'm too sick to write anything else. But I have a lot of thoughts about these two! So I'll add more in the future)

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#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompt #yandere headcanons #yandere asmodeus #yandere obey me headcanons #yandere obey me x reader #yandere obey me #obey me yandere #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus x mc #I'm sickkk ahdbjdwidnn #But i can see these two being chill and lowkey with each other #asmodeus ranting about his worries and annoyances of being the ruler of lust #and Mc complaining how people suck at romance #Mc probably has ranted to asmodeus about those 'Tik tok' gurus #and asmodeus just dies laughing lmaoo