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#seriously please… I need some bread

thepowerofshussy · 23 days

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Just made the most hearty nourishing stew that went wrong in so many ways throughout but turned into the most delicious warming thing.

Partner just got paid so we went to the market and got a fresh chicken and fennel and three different varieties of tomato and there was an offer on in the veg box and I got some vegan creme fresh and wild rice risotto mix and this really amazing sheep's cheese. I used the last of the paprika my sister brought over from Spain for Christmas and coated the chicken in it, lemon juice, Moroccan olive oil we got at a local cafe after my latest GP appointment, salt, garlic granules and pepper and put it in my big knock off le creuset (mid 10's Groupon I miss u) to cook for about an hour from a cold oven up to 190C (fan) before adding the roughly chopped vegetables with some smoked garlic we got a while ago and putting the chicken and lid back on top and putting it back into the oven for another like idk 30 minutes? The wonderful thing about the Dutch oven method and especially with the added moisture from the veg is you can't really overcook it unless you forget about it, and it will constantly call you to it by releasing delicious smells every time you open the lid. And if you're using tofu (I'd go smoked and add soyrizo if you can!) there's even less ways it could go wrong! My chicken was bigger than I'd calculated for and needed to cook for ages to get all the way through, but because it was a good quality fresh chicken from the butcher and had a lot of good fat and because it was essentially being steamed it stayed moist. I put the heat down to 160C and popped the lid off and another hour later it was golden brown and beautiful. I cooked the wild rice mix in the pressure cooker because brown rice can take ages, and I wanted the mix for texture and extra fiber/slow release carbohydrates because I've been having issues with low blood sugar the past few days and need something to keep me going overnight so I don't wake up feeling like absolute crap in the morning (or less so, hopefully). Any rice will do, you can cook it separately.

Things that went wrong:

1) cooking time of chicken off, breast did get a little dry but to be fair I did cut into it immediately as soon as I thought it was cooked. Had I planned for the timing (read: checked the weight of the chicken and done the cooking time calculator for a rough guide) I would have had let it rest, but 8 was creeping closer and if I'd had dinner any late it would have been heartburn city AGAIN.

2) the main rice of the wild rice mix was brown risotto rice which does make sense but I had cooked with it several times, been disappointed and not understood why. Including tonight. Luckily through all the disappointing times I had figured out it wanted more water and time, so I doubled the water and could have done with maybe just adding an extra half. The chicken was taking longer than anticipated though so I just let it cool a bit and dry out. It was only when I stirred it and it started thickening up like risotto that I realised what had been going wrong this and the last 2 times I'd tried to cook it. It was still good - the rice can do whatever it wants in this dish really, because there's going to be all of that gorgeous tomatoey fennely garlicky paprikaey broth getring in between the grains any way and in this case it actually helped the broth be less watery

3) the sheep's cheese was not the texture I expected and I almost left it out but I tried a bit then tried a bit of chicken and it made me happy dance so I just tore it up into little bits. I think maybe a crumblier more feta adjacent cheese would have been a better fit, but damn the cheese was nice enough to make up for the textural oddness.

Idk it's just something about how these pleasures, of good quality, varied and interesting ingredients are behind a fucking paywall. That anyone can look at another human being and tell them they don't deserve something like this. It's ridiculous that something so good, so warm, so human is denied to so many people in service of a system that treats humanity like an inconvenience.

It links for me to a lot of things. One of the things is how the whole cottage core influencer industry flattens things into lifestyle and consumption becomes about accumulation instead of being the basic thing of getting what you need to live and enjoy being alive.

Because when we decided that housing and food and safety and medicine and autonomy were not foundational things everyone could and should expect to receive, we decided that for beauty and pleasure and enjoying being alive. Which I cannot make sense of. I've read so much theory and thought about it to excess and I can't connect the dots between living life and having access to any of these things and looking at another person and deciding that they don't deserve the same?

Idk what the point of this is. We make such beautiful unique things. We have such beautiful unique pleasures. I cook in my messy, cramped, chaotic, dirty kitchen in my messy, cramped, chaotic, dirty flat and I make mistakes and I learn and I can do so little about my flat or the world but I can share some of that gentle joy around a bit at least?

#tldr: had a spiritual experience making a stew #i have been offered Webinars for my complex mental health issues ✌️#fuck it its my blog I'll post what i like who cares if its clumsy or cringe i will channel lucinda from mafs au #and i will get emotional about tomatoes if i damn well please #seriously if you take nothing else away from this take away that if you get any opportunity to get good tomatoes you need to do so #and you need to roast them with the seasonings listed above #and if you can have them with a sharp cheese and some crusty bread?#heaven #tinned mackerel is also a good one - its my go to cheap non veggie protein. get the ones in olive oil and you can just. add them #to anything tomato #get those omega 3's and all the other good shit #beans? hell yeah!#borlotti or white kidney or butter beans or chickpeas

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months

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Life Lessons || CL16

Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed

WC: 2.9k

Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.

He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.

Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.

“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”

“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”

“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”

Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”

“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”

Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.

—

Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.

He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.

“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”

You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.

“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”

“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”

“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.

“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”

“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”

—

Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.

He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.

His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.

“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.

You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”

“A-anatomy?” he stammered.

You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”

His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”

His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”

“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.

“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”

“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.

“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”

He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”

“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”

“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”

The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.

“You’re a good student,” you praised.

“I have a good teacher.”

You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”

His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn’t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”

He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”

“I thought that was a myth.”

“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”

He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.

“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”

Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.

“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.

“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.

You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”

You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”

Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”

Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.

“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.

“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”

This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.

“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”

Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.

“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.

His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.

“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”

He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”

Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.

“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”

“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.

You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”

He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”

He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.

Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”

You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.

“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”

He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.

“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”

He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”

“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”

He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”

“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut

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autosadist · 1 month

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hi can i have some help please

switched from temp to permanent work at my job and part of this involved switching from getting paid weekly to every other week, meaning ive been making like $250 from a weekly check (after bills) stretch for the past 2 weeks & i'm dipping very close to 0, i don't have food at home because my kitchen is still semi-unusable from water damage and busted hanging light fixtures and i have been surviving almost exclusively on white bread and a couple hot case items from wawa using my parents wawa card for the past few days. on top of all this i got a call about a $50 dental payment im late on while writing this post and uhhhhh basically i just need some help with groceries + ideally that bill to get me to friday, my raise and the full 2 week check should keep me steady after even with rent coming up. if i could get like $80 or so i'd really appreciate it but anything helps a lot, seriously. ty

cshpp: $highborne

vnmo: orkorkork

pp: glitchgore

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insomniakisses · 5 months

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Closets and Creampies

Pairing: Lisa Manoban (Blackpink)

Reader Type: Gender Neutral (AFAB)

Warnings/notes: nsfw, Minors DNI, Cis hets DNI, creampie, G!P Lisa, Aka Lisa Has a dick, P in V sex, daddy kink, use of kitten as pet name, mentions of body hair.

You were on your way to your groups dressing room when you felt hands on ur waist and were tugged into a closet. A hand covering ur mouth when u went to yell out for help.

“Shhhh baby, its just me” a voice husked against your ear. But not just any voice this one belonged to your girlfriend Lisa. Who was currently grinding her bulge against you.

“Seriously!?” You turn to glare at her, “I’m on stage in 10 minutes! I can’t fuck you right now!”

She pouts a needy whine falling from her lips as she palms herself through her boxers. Only now your eyes have adjusted to the dim light can you see what shes wearing. A sports bra and her favourite pair of boxers. You can’t help but to blush when you take her in hand reaching to play with her happy trail on instinct.

“Fuck baby” she husks thrusting into the air, “Need you SO bad! I’ll be quick I promise” you can practically feel her desperation and nod placing a kiss to her happy trail and across her abs before pulling away to undress.

It doesn’t take long for you both to undress and for her to pin you against the door fucking into you with such speed and force that the door its self shakes and rattles. That paired with the loud moans and grunts the pair of you are letting out you know everyone is aware of whats happening in their.

Her thrusts get faster and faster and she groans your name nipping and biting your neck and shoulder as she thrusts deep, heavy balls smacking your ass and pussy hard every time. You can’t help the guttural moan you release every time they twitch against you or you feel how full of her cum they are.

You feel your legs start to shake as your orgasm rips through you but she doesn’t stop her thrusts, doesn’t even slow down she simply pulls ur legs up around her waist pinning you completely to the door. Her deep moans pairing with heavy pants as she feels her cock squeezed by your pussy, your wetness dripping down to her balls and she knows shes gonna cum soon her cock practically drooling pre.

Her grip tightens and her thrusts get sloppy and slower till she lets out a few deep moans, “Thats it kitten,” she groans head falling on your shoulder mouth against your ear. “Let Daddy fill you up, breed you till your round with pups”

You moan clawing at her back, “P-please Daddy!” You moan into her ear and thats all it takes shes cumming hard rope after role of thick hot sticky cum fills you and you gasp as another orgasm rips through you the tightness around her cock sending her over the edge again too and your both a moaning mess.

Once both of you are down from your highs she hums reaching for her bag from the shelves next to you, her body keeping you pinned in place. A Soft whimper leaving your lips as you see her pull out some breading tape, but she just shushes you softly.

You feel her pull out and secure the tape over your whole adding enough to also keep it in place and then she peppers your face with kisses.

“There we go baby, now your ready to go on stage”

You whine at her smirk and say its too much, every movement you feel your legs wobble and the sloshing of her cum inside you but she simply kisses your head, helping you back into your stage outfit.

“You’re going to go out there, and keep that tape on while you perform.” She grips your jaw forcing eye contact, her gaze hard. “Aren’t you kitten?”

You nod dumbly stumbling out of the closet to your group who are waiting for you, trying your best to keep in your moans and whines.

A/n: Hope you enjoyed the fic! :) also 🤠 anon, I chose lisa just for you ;)

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anadiasmount · 2 months

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what do you think an ideal date with jude be like?

a love for the books - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: request above!

wc: 1.3k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

HIII MY LOVE!! i’m so sorry this was delayed but i’m posting this in honor of valentine’s day 😣🤍 ik this might be a little over the top, but knowning how jude is...🤭 HERE’S THISSS FOR YOU AND ANYONE READING!! like always, hope you enjoy bc it’s pure fluff 🤍🤍

“look so pretty for me darling,” jude said coming up behind you where you shyly looked away as you finished clasping your earrings on. “seriously, like how did i get this lucky,” jude kisses your temple and sighed in relief as he hugged your waist.

you smelled his familiar cologne, kissing his bicep that was bare as he wore a simple black button-up and some jeans. looking more boyfriend than ever. “i don’t know jude, you tell me. i’m the lucky one for being able to spend my weekend away with my boyfriend for the first time in weeks,” you say teasingly.

“you’re right. but i have a girlfriend who is patient, loves and cares for me, and planned this evening for the two of us. don’t worry i have something special in store for you later,” jude leans down and pecks your lips in a loving manner, a groan stuck in his throat as he tastes your sweet taste.

“cmon i wanna eat, i’ve been dying to eat for hours,” jude says pulling you to the door hand to hand. “jude wait hold, wait jude! i need my shoes and my purse,” you say giggling and rushed. jude sits impatiently as you finish final details, sighing in relief once you finished.

jude opens the passenger door for you, refusing to let you do anything and let him be the gentleman he is. he keeps a hand on your thigh but from time and time, he'll interlock hands and kiss the back of it gently, giving you a cheeky smile as he sang to his music.

he led you to your table at the exclusive and private restaurant, never letting go until he grabbed your chair and helped you get seated. his brows pulled in as he scanned through the menu, telling you different options of what he saw or what he was in the mood for.

"we'll take the roscatto red wine in a bottle, and bread rolls for starters," jude spoke kindly, his thumb rubbing your skin as you continued to scan in the menu, thanking the waiter when they brought and filled your glass.

"what's the surprise you mentioned," you asked curiously, leaning your head on your hand that rested on your table. "it won't be a surprise if i tell you," jude snickered, grabbing a small bite of the golden warm bread. "yes but i'm impatient and want to know," you moaned. "if you keep whining i'll blindfold you and won't let you see the entire ride there," jude raised his brow testing you.

"fine, now what are you thinking of getting?" you asked taking a sip of the red wine carefully. "maybe the honey garlic salmon with a side of stirred veggies?" he said slowly as he read the menu. you winced in a disgusted manner, shaking your head at the thought of seafood, "ew..."

"oh please," jude laughed at you, "i bet you'll order pasta or noodles of some sort knowing how you are," jude teased earning a dramatic gasp from you. "for your information, i was thinking of it... BUT i'm going to go with the steak with a side garlic parm zucchini bites and stuffed rolls," you poke your tongue out.

jude and you speak quietly among yourselves, laughing loudly as you remember old memories and remince those times where you first met, last minute dates because you had missed each other. going to random gas stations to get snacks, or stay up all night on facetime.

you could remember it all, write all the memories down on sheets of papers and turn them into a book if you wanted to. jude always tells you the day you have kids, and once they’re bigger, he couldn’t wait to tell them just exactly how you met. how his heart bang out his chest and saw everyone blurry and just you standing in the room.

how nervous he was trying to approach you. the eagerness inside him to hear you laugh or make you smile. how determined he was to get your number or any sort of contact because he knew. how much off a stuttered mess he was once he finally asked you if you want to go inside for a drink. how he felt like the luckiest man on earth, almost cried, when you told him the three words.

through think and thin. you were it for him. and he’ll never ever let go of you.

“cmon… we’re almost there baby…” jude said as he dragged you along the gravel road down into a wet trail. “jude when you mentioned surprise i though a movie night with a fort and a game off poker, not this! i just ate and all this walking is gonna make me throw up,” you laughed nervously, almost misplaced your step any a giant rock.

“funny you say movie night… what if we have a movie night here,” jude closed your eyes, then revealed the open setting. “we can star and moon gaze if we get bored, but we can have a movie night here with all these snacks surrounding us,” jude kisses your forehead, watching your mouth agape as you saw the laid out pillows and sheets, a small table containing the snacks and jude’s ipad.

“jude… this is so CUTE. I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! you’re the best boyfriend i could ever ask for,” you squeal hugging him so tight he’s afraid you’ll break his bones. “only boyfriend you’ll have,” jude states in a possessive manner making you roll your eyes playfully.

“only boyfriend i know, unless for some reason henry cavil turns up single?” you shrug pouting your bottom lip, jude immediately frowning as he followed your steps into the sheets laid out. “uhm first off all were both english. second of all that won’t ever happen, i’ll make sure if it. third of all, you say all this after i do this for my lovely girlfriend?” jude speaks as hoe watches you set up the pillows and open bags of chips.

“i was just kidding… you’re the only hero in my life, and i can’t wait to make more of these memories with you,” you say after nagging an upset jude to lay down. he has one hand under his head, as the other one strokes your back, the bringing it up to tuck a curl back, brushing your cheek and leaning up to capture your lips.

you melt inside, feeling a burn sensation as he kiss your lips. this felt different than past times, the way he holds you, kissing you like a starved man, hands brushing and pulling you on top of him so he can further the kiss even more. your hearts beat quicker, not once pulling away, just in your own world with jude.

“as much as i want to fuck you against these sheets… i want to watch the movie with you,” jude pulls away breathless, smears of your lipstick all over his lips as he closes his eyes trying to calm down. “and what if i say i don’t want to watch the movie… that i’ll take that offer right now,” you whisper, kissing his jaw, making jude shiver.

“if you’re a good girl and do what i’ll say, i’ll gladly grant the wish, so turn around for me and press play…” jude’s voice then deep nudging to the ipad and watching you slowly turn and lay on his arm, feeling your nails gaze onto his skin as you traced his veins.

after a couple minutes of silence and just your breaths and watching the movie, you feel jude pull the strap of your dress down and pepper kisses all over your bare shoulder. “stay still, gonna give my girl the love and care she deserves…”

your love was definitely a story for the books.

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader

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morallyinept · 5 months

Text

D!! I'm a little busy right now, sweetie. What's up?

What do you mean there's not enough potatoes?! You had one task, buddy!

Alright, alright. I'm going to need you to run down to the store and see if they have some more. Here, take my car...

Why are you looking at me like that? Dieter, are you high?

Wait, you don't look so hot... OH SHIT!

Marvellous. Now I need to change my shirt. Thanks, D. 😑

Javi! Can you go to the store and get some more potatoes for me? Dieter isn't feeling so good, I think he took something-

I see... well, at least I know where he got the LSD from. 🤨

Yeeeah, I love you too bud, just... sleep it off, okay?

Honestly those two... Frankie, have the other Pedro Boys started to arrive yet?

That's a negative? Okay, great we still have time.

Have you seen Dave? Oh, he's keeping a look out for the boys too?

Is that really necessary? I mean, it's just a turkey dinner... I don't think we need heavy artillery.

Okay fine. Carry on with the perimeter checks... As you were, Pilot. 🫡

Marcus, it smells really good in here. How's the meringue coming along?

Urm, the eggs are supposed to go into the bowl dude, not the sink. Focus!

Jack, you got a handle on the fire there, cowboy? You sure? It's looking a little out of control...

Well okay. If you say so. At least one of you is helpful today... sheesh. 🙄

Marcus? Are you dressed yet? Can I borrow a shirt? Dieter threw up on mine... Marcus?

What are you doing in there?! You know what, I don't wanna know...

Marcus, that sock looks awfully sticky... Wait a minute, is that MY sock?? 😶 No, you can keep it... just get dressed, would you?

MAX! Oh my God! Put her down, we don't eat the guests!

Javi, are you going to do anything to help me get these boys under control, or are you just going to sit there looking pretty?

Ezra, take your suit off, we're not going to the moon for Thanksgiving dinner... Remember what happened the last time you went? I'd prefer you to keep your remaining limbs in tact today... In fact, stay way from the carving knife.

Speaking of, Joel! Can you come carve the turkey for me please?

Oh, for crying out loud...

Oberyn, can you light the candles please?

I mean, sure, but they're just candles, bub. No need to lose your head...

Tim! Where did you get Chinese food?? We're about to sit down and eat!

Din! Dank farrik, DIN!

Can you please keep Grogu from eating the cookies! They're for later...

Pero, I hope you're not helping yourself... Those bread rolls are for everyone.

Seriously, boys. You all need to calm down and help!

I don't think I can handle much more carnage today-

Jack, honey. Was that you...?

Well boys, looks like we're ordering out... 🙄 Sigh.

Tim, what's the number for that Chinese place?

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Although I'm British and we don't really celebrate, I'm so thankful for all of you lovely people.

All of you lovely writers, mutuals, followers, silent lurkers, friends and, of course, the Pedro Boys (and all the chaos that comes with them).

Eat, drink and be merry today, if you're celebrating. And try not to blow the place up. 😬

🖤

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writingquestionsanswered · 18 days

Text

Subtle Exposition and Backstory

Anonymous asked: I’m having trouble referencing events the reader wasn’t there for. These events came before the story started and happened in someone else’s POV which the current POV character wasn't there for. How do I clue the reader in without the explanation being obvious or leaving the reader confused?

[ask edited for length]

Events that occur before the story's main timeline are called back story. In other words, anything that happened before the story starts but is still important to the story.

Backstory details can be woven into the story as they become relevant to what's happening in a given scene. Sometimes, you can find clever ways to work these details into the story without hitting the reader over the head with them.

For example, in The Hunger Games, while Katniss is out hunting with Gale, she's watching him slice bread for their lunch and is thinking about their physical appearance and how it's typical of most of the residents of her district. However, her mother and sister have light hair and blue eyes. These thoughts lead into the story about how her mother's parents were part of the merchant class and came to District 12 to run an apothecary, and that was how her parents met--because her father used to collect medicinal herbs for them when he was hunting. These details provide context for why Katniss's mother had such a hard time after her husband, Katniss's father, died in a mining accident. Her softer upbringing hadn't prepared her for the harsher life of a single mother in the Seam.

This delivery of backstory works because:

1 - It's relevant to what's happening. Katniss is beyond the electrified fence hunting for food with Gale. This is a risk she has to take because her mother is unable to provide for her children, leaving Katniss to find ways to supplement their small food allowance. That said, it's natural Katniss would be thinking about some of the things that led to this situation.

2 - The thoughts are triggered by something. This thread of thoughts feels organic not only because the topic is relevant to what's happening, but also because the thoughts are triggered by something Katniss experiences in the moment. Katniss is looking at Gale, thinking about their similar physical characteristics, which makes her think about her mom and Prim having different characteristics, which launches her into the story about her mom being from a merchant family.

3 - The thoughts occur in a moment of natural lull. Katniss and Gale decide to pause their hunt to eat lunch, so there's a natural lull in the action which creates a believable moment for these thoughts to slip into her mind. If she had been laying on her stomach, watching distant quarry and calculating the wind speed, that wouldn't have been a believable moment for her to be thinking about physical appearance and how her parents met.

My post Weaving Details into the Story goes into further detail if you need it.

Happy writing!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

Please allow up to two weeks for a response. ♥

#wqaadvice

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writeyouin · 4 months

Note

LMK shadowpeach x foreign fem reader? Its readers first Christmas in China and wants to spend it with the monkeys! Got them a Christmas gift too that’s fitting for the three of them. For some cute fluff, she made some delicious treats from her home country (I probably would make them fry bread or fruit related sweets of the sort)

Sun Wukong X Macaque X Reader (Poly-Shadowpeach) – Chinese Christmas

A/N – So this went a myriad of ways in my head and I kept changing it, and now it’s super different to what I first thought was going to happen. Anyway, here’s the end result, and I got to do some cool research on Christmas in China which was really interesting.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

“Would you please calm down?” Macaque growled at Sun Wukong, annoyed since his partner was being more irksome than usual.

Granted, the pair had recently made up after all their years of fighting, but sometimes… Well, the Monkey King had a lot more energy than Macaque, and he wasted it in frivolous ways, always bouncing around and rarely bothering to stay still unless he was choosing to be inconvenient and lazy, in which case it was impossible to make him get up and do whatever was required of him.

Sun Wukong was equally displeased with Macaque, who didn’t seem to be taking his plight seriously.

“Calm down?” He wailed, his search continually frantic as he flew from mountain top to mountain top. “Who can calm down at a TIME LIKE THIS?! (Y/N)’s missing!”

Macaque rubbed his temples, feeling a headache begin to form. “They’re not missing, they’re probably just at their house or-”

“ON CHRISTMAS?” Sun jumped in front of Macaque, grabbing him by the shoulders and wrapping his tail tightly around the darker simian, “Not a chance! I planned everything for today. We were going to go ice skating, get some wrapped apples, sing karaoke, drink hot chocolate, go to that new noodle bar- There’s just no way (Y/N) would miss all that.”

“… Fine. If you must continue this inane search, could you use your gold vision and get it over with already?”

Sun raised a mischievous eyebrow and smirked, “And miss out on the fun of the search?”

Macaque sighed irritably, “You’re seriously having fun with this?”

“Well yeah. What’d be the point if I found (Y/N) immediately? It needs to be dramatic.”

With that, the Monkey King got back to his search, whilst Macaque stepped away to take a breather, and possibly to brood if the mood struck him; relationships were exhausting. As soon as he left Wukong, his sharp hearing picked up your voice at the bottom of the mountain.

“Shoot-” You said upon clearly dropping something.

Macaque smiled as a more forceful expletive followed, and listened more intently. Evidently, you were carrying something and your bag had split. He chuckled and took pity on you, waiting till you had recovered your items before casting out a shadow portal that brought you directly in front of him.

Having been ready to take a step that was no longer in front of you, you stumbled into Macaque’s open arms.

“You always trip,” He commented drily, “You think you’d be used to that by now.”

You smiled up at Macaque, pecking his cheek before replying, “I don’t think I’ll ever be used to that. You always do it when I least expect it.”

“Then you’ve got to learn to expect the unexpected.”

“If I did that, there would never be an unexpected event and my life would become oh so dull.”

Macaque began a witty retort, but he was drowned out by Wukong who hurried over to meet you, crushing you in a hug, clingy as ever. Whenever you were around, there was hardly a moment wherein he wasn’t holding onto you in some manner.

“Peaches!” He exclaimed joyfully, using your affectionately awarded nickname, “I knew you wouldn’t abandon us on Christmas. Where were you? You’ve already wasted half the day.”

“It’s only ten,” You protested.

“Yeah, well I would’ve been there for you at six if we were meeting at your place.”

That was a lie. If it was up to Sun Wukong to come to you, you knew that Macaque would have to drag him out of bed and that it would take him hours to wake from his sleepy state.

“If I say I brought presents, will that make it up to you?” You held up your bag; Macaque smiled when he saw the knot you had tied in the bottom to patch the split.

Sun immediately pushed you away to snatch up the bag, though his tail remained wrapped around your wrist.

“Share,” You reminded him, bringing Macaque back into the loop.

“Can we open these now?” Sun asked, already tearing at the gold paper which marked the presents meant for him.

“Apparently so.”

Macaque was much gentler with his sliver foiled presents. You hadn’t bothered to write any cards or tags. You couldn’t read or write Chinese, and your simian companions were equally unskilled in your native language. Instead, it was easier to treat them like the sun and the moon and wrap their gifts accordingly.

There were some generic little presents at the top of the bag, but soon your loves got to the gifts you had spent months lovingly crafting. Shawls, knitwear, and repaired clothing that both of them had mourned when damaged in battle made the bulk of the gifts. In a second smaller bag were the presents you had made fresh the night before. They were treats you missed from home, sweet breads, pastries, sugared fruits, and brandy snaps.

“Oh yeah,” Sun Wukong bragged, taking the first bite of a cream-filled sugar cone, “We’re going to have a feast tonight.”

“If we make it to tonight alive with all you have planned,” Macaque stated drily, though he spared an affectionate pat to Wukong’s head.

“All you have planned?” You asked, uncertain as to what anyone could do on Christmas Day when everywhere was closed. Alas, you were thinking of home, which differed greatly from China in many ways, Christmas traditions being one of them.

“Well, duh.” Sun Wukong placed a hand proudly on his chest and stood in a heroic position atop a newly summoned cloud. “Do you really think that I, Sun Wukong, the Monkey King and Great Sage Equal to Heaven would have anything less than a perfect day planned for my two true loves?”

“Funny,” Macaque chuckled, tying his new shawl around his neck, “I thought your two true loves were sleeping and making Wukong Dating sims.”

“Oh yeah? And what about you? You only love puppets and being all dramatic and emo.”

“And I love it when my boys don’t argue,” You said, stepping between them before their little spat turned into a contest which would inevitably lead to a fight. Granted, the three of you were a throuple now, but Sun Wukong and Macaque still had a lot of bad blood and unresolved history; some days were more difficult than others when they were learning how to choose love and forgiveness over anger and spite.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Wukong grinned and held you to his side, throwing his free arm up as if physically showing you the day’s schedule while he listed everything off.

Macaque approached you and took your hand gently in his, “Is that all okay? It’s probably a lot different to where you come from.”

You smiled bittersweetly, thinking about all the traditions you would miss out on and how Christmas was more family-oriented where you were from.

“It’s- It’s different to what I’m used to, but… I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I’m just happy to be with you two.”

At that, Sun Wukong softened. He stood in front of you, his tail curling around your waist, “Hey, we don’t have to do this if it’s too much. We can try your traditions if you want.”

“Next year,” You promised. “I want to see how you do things.”

Sun Wukong smiled at both you and Macaque. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He had spent far too long alone, and now he had two people he could spend the holidays with, and even more friends who you were all going to meet; he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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pangur-and-grim · 2 years

Text

okay I’m sharing a sample chapter because I think it’s funny, if anyone is mean I will cry real human tears

Chapter 9

I decided to take seducing the mad sorcerer more seriously.

His odd acts of kindness, listening to me gab about my friendship troubles with Glenda, patching my wounds, the dragon scale, it added up. I mean sure, the guy turned me into a vulture, threatened to pull my teeth out, and implanted my chest with some sort of sick torture device…. but……. hmm, maybe this wasn’t a great idea.

Still, I wanted out of this vulture body. He could transmogrify me. All I needed was a path, connecting between those points, a way to ‘make it worth his while’, as it were.

“My lord,” I squawked over breakfast. The mad sorcerer was having thick-sliced bread with jam, and I was having a squirrel that had gotten trapped in the chimney and only just begun to rot. I’d flown it down to the kitchen to eat with the sorcerer, figuring a lonely guy like him would enjoy a social meal.

“My lord,” I repeated, swallowing the scrap of squirrel intestine that dangled from my beak. “I think you should turn me into a woman.”

The mad sorcerer choked on his bread.

After some spluttering and hacking of breadcrumbs, and indecision on my part as to whether I should be smacking his back with a wing, he recovered enough to answer. “Why in the world…...? Also, you are flinging rat…. particles everywhere, from this point onward you are forbidden from eating indoors. Effective immediately,” he added, as I raced to get in one last beakfull.

“It’s a squirrel, my lord.” I said, wiping my beak on the brick oven I perched on. “They have the fluffy tails, that’s how you can tell.”

“Stop that! Stop that!” The sorcerer rose to shoo me off the oven and, confused, I circled the room and landed on a chair.

“Anyway, so the transmogrification, my lord. I figure since the prophecy is clear about bodily sex, I can swap to the other one while still weaselling out of the whole thing. Pretty smart, right?” I finished wiping my beak on my own back feathers, and then raised a talon to scratch an itch beneath my chin.

“’Thick eyelashes for a boy’…. I suppose you’re right.” The sorcerer seemed deep in thought. “And you are rather disgusting as a vulture.”

“Well, no, I groom regularly my lord,” I protested, “Look, there’s this nipple-looking thing at the base of my tail, see? And I get oil from there and smear it all over the place. Keeps me shiny!”

“Stop flaring your feathers, I do not wish to see it. I will use the needle if I have to, obey my instructions.” The sorcerer kneaded his forehead with a hand, his toast lying forgotten on the table. A trio of the small humanoid kitchen constructs had descended on my squirrel, one carting it away and the other two working with brushes to scrub the scraps of red off the brickwork. I decided not to protest.

“I have given you free reign of this stronghold because, lacking opposable thumbs and any possible allies, the damage you could do is minimal. As a human, the situation changes.” The sorcerer had his forehead lined and serious, but the lack of a solid ‘no’ made me giddy. Time for a sales pitch!

“I could cook and clean! And decorate, my lord, this place is pretty drab. That’s not even getting into the other stuff I could do.” I cocked my head in what I hoped to be a significant manner, vultures not having any eyebrows to raise.

“The other stuff? No, no, no I see that look on your face, please don’t answer, I know exactly where this is going.” The sorcerer’s eye flashed, and another little construct emerged to carry away his toast. Disappointment struck – I’d been hoping the sorcerer would eventually exit the kitchen having forgotten it entirely, leaving the crisp bread available for plundering. But back to selling myself.

“No, see my lord, I reckon I could perform se-“

“Shut up, shut up, please stop talking. Alright, I will turn you into a human woman if you agree to one condition.” The mad sorcerer raised a single bony finger.

“Oh, my lord?” Joy and relief unfolded like a flower. “And what’s that?”

“Please stop trying to seduce me.”

#the context is that there's a prophecy about the knight's death #but he looks a specific way in that prophecy. so they're avoiding it through shenanigans #im at 50k words as of today

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magicalbats · 5 months

Text

Sanctuary

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 10,874

Warnings: sacrilegious content, monster fucking, tentacle/tongue fucking, brief throat fucking, reader is a nun so take that as you will

A/N: this is my very first commission ever and I had a blast working on it so I asked if I could share it with everyone! I went through and removed the identifiers for their OC but otherwise its exactly the same. I'm going to make a comms page later on for anyone interested so keep an eye out for that, and please enjoy! ❤️

⭐

Snow flurries around your face and buffets the skin to leave your cheeks feeling raw as you peer out over the assembled crowd. There’s a restlessness that hangs over the multitude of heavily bundled bodies lined up in the town square but order had largely been maintained all morning. It was mostly a variety of women in differing sizes, shapes and ages, which tended to help in that regard, while the occasional man was either old, sick or otherwise unfit for the labor needed to support themselves. These people relied heavily, sometimes exclusively, on the church’s community efforts to keep themselves afloat. You could even make out a few small children among the masses where you were standing; antsy from waiting and fussy with hunger, and who were starting to get on their accompanying parents' last nerves by the looks of it.

Cloak whipping in the frigid wind, you shift behind the table where two other Sisters were diligently working to ladle out the porridge and pass out thick slices of bread quickly enough to keep the line moving at a reasonable pace. You were technically supposed to be on break after standing in the same spot for hours, your dominant wrist giving a muted throb from overuse when you take up the spare baler spoon and dip it into the massive pot, but you were having a hard time walking away. You usually did, though. Some might accuse you of taking your responsibilities a little too seriously at times but you liked to think of it more as simply being pertinacious. It was better to toe the line of overzealous than to be apathetic or indifferent to the plights of others, after all, and you couldn’t think of anyone more in plight than hungry children.

Speculatively, Sister Darya eyes the bowl you fill and set aside before starting to spoon out another serving into a second dish. She sends you a sidelong glance even while her hands continue to work through the monotonous motions. Dip, pour, pass across the table. Dip, pour, pass across the table. She doesn’t have to look to ensure every moving piece ends up exactly where it needs to be, and the line keeps moving without interruption even as she sets her prickly sights on you.

“Back so soon, Sister? Perhaps we should have you chained to the nearest bench to ensure you take your breaks when you’re supposed to.”

“That won’t be necessary.” You respond with a cool indifference, unperturbed by the pointed stare she gives you when you reach to fill a third bowl. “I’ll go take my rest once I give these to the children. Surely you won’t find any complaint in that?”

Sister Darya draws a careful breath and lets it out with a sigh. When she speaks next, it’s very soft so that only you might hear her quiet response. “They are supposed to wait in line just like everyone else. Those are the rules. Do not give me that look, Sister. You know as well as I do what lows the starving and the sick will sink to.”

“Then I will take care to ensure nothing of the sort comes of it.” Stamping down the flare of annoyance that sparks in your chest, you stiffly drop the baler back to the table. The older woman narrows her sharp beady eyes at you in warning yet you pay it little mind.

Quickly shoving a spoon into each of the four bowls you’ve prepared, you juggle the dishes into your hands and step out from behind the table. You can barely catch the sound of her grumbling something to the other nun stationed with her as you walk away but aren’t quite able to make out what’s being said. No matter though. She’d never been particularly fond of you and the feeling was decidedly mutual. Nothing that happened here today was going to change that.

The first child you manage to track down in the crowd is on the verge of tears, fitfully tugging at his mothers skirts while he asks her how much longer it will be. She has her hands full with a mewling infant, swaddled and bundled in so many layers that it takes the use of both hands to properly hold onto the bulky mass, and she could not offer him much comfort aside from gentle reassurances that it would be soon. One look at the tired, heavy bags under her eyes vindicates your decision. These people needed help, and you wouldn’t sit idly by if there was something that could be done for them.

Sweeping closer to the pair, you keep your voice gentle even as you project it enough to be heard over the general din. “Do not cry, little man. You must be strong for your mother and your new sibling, isn’t that right? Look at what I have for you.”

Red faced from the snow and the wind, he turns to glance up at you from under the brim of his wide, fur lined cap. The green of his irises seems to swim with valiantly held back tears but they clear almost immediately when he sees the bowl you carefully offer out to him. They appear to you like crystalline lakes turned dazzling with the azure sheen of algae, and you give him your best smile when he eagerly reaches out to accept the porridge in his tiny gloved hands.

Her expression morphing from one of surprise to immense gratitude, the mother ducks her head in quick thanks. “May the Cryo Archon bless you, Sister. Your kindness means much to me and my children.”

“Speak not another word of it. You’re almost to the front of the line now, so you’ll be able to fill your stomach soon. Please take care.”

With a brief nod of acknowledgment, you move on. There’s another child a few paces down, this one a young girl curled up in the arms of her father as if in search of warmth as much as comfort, and you tell them much the same. That they were almost to the front of the queue and he gives his words of thanks as his daughter shyly accepts the bowl you hand to her. Left with still two more to pass out, you work your way further back in the line while assuring the waiting adults that there was enough for everyone to be fed and to just be patient.

Empty handed after finding a pair of brothers solemnly standing in line together, you start to retrace your path towards the table again. You’d spotted a few more kids and you wanted to make the burden of waiting a bit more bearable for them as much as for their parents, but a small scuffle up near the front pulls your gaze and demands your attention first. Your strides turn purposeful now as you make a beeline for the commotion. What you come upon gives you pause, though.

The green eyed boy from before was picking himself up off the ground and trying very hard not to let the hiccuping sobs that shake his shoulders get the better of him. His bowl of porridge was spilled in the barren dirt and frozen mud. A gnarled looking man in a tattered coat was bending to retrieve the fallen dish, mumbling something unkind under his breath while the mother juggles the baby in her arms and frets over her fallen son. At first you think it an accident, the kind of misstep that could happen all too easily when there were so many people crammed together in a single place. But then, to your surprise, the surly man straightens up with the bowl, dips his fingers into what bit of porridge meal was still sticking to the interior and pops them into his mouth.

You see an instant flash of red behind your eyes.

“What is the meaning of this?” You demand, closing the distance at a rapid pace now. “Horrid scoundrel, do you truly intend to repay the Holy Mothers kindness and generosity by stealing from a child? Does that seem right to you?”

The sallow faced man glances up at your approach, takes one look at the black veil covering your hair and scoffs before turning from you. It was clear he thought little of you and your opinions on the matter, and he disinterestedly begins to walk away with his spoils still in hand. Temper flaring just a pinch more, you lengthen the stride of your steps. You brush right past the mother and her children. Reach out with grasping fingers and snag the back of the man’s ratty coat. He aggressively spins around to snap at you, but you were ready with some choice words of your own.

“How dare you! To think that anyone in our great motherland would behave like an uncivilized animal!” You practically spit up at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself for carrying on in this manner when there is plenty to go around for everyone. What have you got to say, huh?”

“I don’t have nothing to say to you, crazy bitch. Let go! Before I get mad!”

A chorus of horrified gasps erupts around you, but you only tighten your hold on him even when his coat is so grimy and unkempt it makes your skin itch. You’re distantly aware of the crowd shuffling behind you, no doubt considering the possible ramifications of stepping in or not, but there was a hesitation when so many of them were women with little to no able bodied men to help. It was only natural, and you didn’t blame them for it. You blamed this no good lout for causing such an unpleasant scene in the first place and you weren’t about to let him get off that easily for being such an inconvenient nuisance to everyone.

“I will not let you go. You owe that boy and his mother an apology, sir. Come, I will even stand with you to lessen the embarrassment you have to face.”

Becoming more aggressive by the second, he violently tries to yank out of your grip. You hold fast though, and only stumble a step before pulling back on his coat with everything you’ve got. He seemed annoyed more than anything else though, and he rounds on you again to loom over your much slighter frame in an obvious display of intimidation as he bellows, “I’m warning you, let me go! Now!”

“And I am warning you, come apologize to them or you will not like how this is going to end.”

His face growing red in anger, he tries once again to forcefully shrug you off. But when that doesn’t work he brings his hand up in a quick arc, clenching it into a tight fist. You barely have enough time to process it’s even happening and then it — harmlessly sails right over your head.

Eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, you watch in mute disbelief as he’s roughly dragged back a handful of steps by an arm wrapped around his neck. The destitute man flails and kicks, grunting when he drops the bowl so he can reach up to claw at the limb cutting off his air supply. It’s useless though. Whoever was holding onto him had a grip as good as iron, evidently, and you catch a burst of coppery-brown hair behind him as he slowly starts to drain of energy and sag. One moment he’s wildly thrashing to get loose and the next he’s … going limp with a wet little gurgle.

You catch your first glimpse of the young man — your heroic savior, as it were — when he bends to deposit the vagrant onto the cold ground without much concern for where or how he might land. His burden hitting the dirt with a bodily thump, he lifts his attention to you. You’re instantly struck by the intense blue of his eyes, and your breath catches in shock.

Was he really human?

“Are you alright, miss? Sorry I didn’t make it here sooner.” Straightening again, he wipes his gloved hands together as if ridding them of dirt after a messy job. Then he steps over the prone man on long, somewhat gangly legs so he can come closer. “When someone said there was a disturbance going on at the church’s food drive I came as fast as I could. I hope you’re not hurt?”

Rousing from your initial disquiet, you take in the whole of him rather than just the strange eyes staring at you in question. You recognize the military uniform immediately, and bob a quick curtsy as was customary when dealing with someone of his station. “Worry not, good sir. I am unharmed and I have you to thank for that. I’d say you were just in time, in fact.”

The young soldier gives you an abrupt, dazzling smile that is so filled to the brim with boyish charm it almost gives you pause. He was handsome, yes, but he also looked like a troublemaker of the highest order. Certainly not someone you would need or want to find yourself mixed up with no matter how good looking he was or how pleasantly symmetrical his features were.

“It was my pleasure, of course, Sister …?”

You lift your chin and tell him your name.

He slowly repeats your name, as if savoring the feel of it on his tongue and the way the syllables curl inside his mouth. “Well, Sister, although I was all too happy to offer my assistance, you still played an admirable part too. Thanks to you I didn’t have to go chasing this guy down. I owe you my thanks as well.”

“Save it.” You sigh, giving your head a brief shake. “I was only doing what’s right. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must tend to the boy he stole from and get him another bowl of food.”

Decisively turning on your heel, expecting that to be the end of it, you start to walk away. To your great surprise, though, he quickly falls into step beside you.

“I’m Ajax, by the way.”

“A lovely name.” You don’t miss a beat but, rather than discouraging him with your indifferent tone, it just makes his grin grow even wider.

“I can help you.” He says it so point blank and matter of fact that for a split second you’re not quite sure what he even wants to lend you a hand with. And that was to say nothing of the why.

“Although I certainly appreciate the offer, I think you’ve helped plenty for one day.” Turning your head, you steal a quick glance back at the unconscious man still lying out on the ground. The boy with the green eyes was spitefully kicking dirt at him and, much like his mother, you willfully chose to ignore it. While it wasn’t exactly good or proper behavior, you figured he was entitled to a tiny bit of payback for what he’d endured. “Shouldn’t you be escorting that gentleman to the jailhouse right about now? Surely that is a much more pressing matter for you than feeding the sick and hungry.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be waking up anytime soon and I’m sure another officer will happen by any minute now to take care of it.”

You send him a slow, curious look, but he doesn’t seem the slightest bit put out. “That’s an odd thing to say, isn’t it? As a young man in her majesty the Tsaritsa’s army I would have thought you’d jump at the chance for recognition of such a good deed.”

He casually waves that off with a chuckle. “Ah, who really cares about recognition anyway? I’m much more interested in doing what I enjoy than making decisions based on what will earn me merit.”

Something told you that was only a very small fraction of the bigger picture. He was still young and clearly impulsive, so you didn’t doubt that he truly was far more inclined to do only what he found worthy of his efforts to pursue. It wasn’t your place to comment on that though, nor did you want to humor how that applied to you in the here and now by giving it any deeper thought than that.

Ignoring Sister Darya’s incensed glare, you pause at the corner of the church’s food drive table and turn to face your dogged shadow. This man, this soldier named Ajax, obediently halts just within arms reach and looks at you with an expectant, almost puppy-like eagerness as if waiting for the next command to fall from your lips. You may have found it cute otherwise, but you weren’t about to encourage him in any way. It wasn’t in your nature to knowingly lead people on and unlike some of the other Sister’s in the order you didn’t derive any such pleasure from doing so. You’d have to be blunt then.

“I thank you again for your assistance,” You pointedly intone. “But I cannot allow you to waste your time taking on the church’s work. Her majesty has greater expectations of you than handing out bowls of porridge. You have your responsibilities and I have mine. We would both do well to remember that.”

He doesn’t look half as dejected by that as you’d hoped he would, his boyish grin only taking on a frustratingly sly edge now. “Aww, don’t tell me this is your way of sending me off into the cold again.”

“I’m afraid so. I don’t have time to entertain anyone, you understand.”

Those odd eyes of his dance before you as he gives you a quick, appraising glance up and down to take in your shuddering cloak and the fluttering veil atop your head. But it strikes you once again as being strange, how his irises don’t seem to reflect the light at all. Rather they almost seem to swallow it up like a void. You’d initially thought it a mere trick of the senses brought about by the heavy charcoal clouds hanging overhead but … even now, even standing near the cackling flame over which the pot of porridge was simmering, there still was no reflection to be found in his eyes. It was a little unsettling, if you were being honest.

Just what was he?

“You break my heart, Sister. Is it not also the responsibility of a soldier to see that the needs of the people he serves are met? Lending the church a hand would be nothing short of a great honor for me.”

You set your mouth in a firm, unamused line. “I’m afraid I’m not fool enough to believe that when you just told me you’re not interested in doing things simply for merit. You’ve got an ulterior motive in volunteering your services and I’m not interested in such games.”

A quick laugh huffs out of him as he lifts a hand to place it emphatically over his heart. “You wound me, Sister! What do you take me for, huh?”

“Someone who’s time would be much better spent escorting that vagabond away from the food drive before he wakes up and starts causing more trouble for us, that’s what.”

“Fair enough.” Shoulders shaking with laughter, he pauses to give you another glance over from the top of your head down to the toes of your smart leather boots. You’re acutely aware of the other Sister’s watching on in rapt fascination and morbid curiosity, as well as the townsfolk standing close enough to the front of the line to eavesdrop, but you firmly stand your ground. There would be time to feel embarrassed by this scene later, in the privacy of your own dorm.

At length, Ajax finally gives his head a shake. “I didn’t know they made Sisters like you.”

“They don’t. I’m all of my own making.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He finally falls back a step with a brief nod of acknowledgment. Allowing himself one final look at you, Ajax turns away with one last word of parting. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Sister. I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again soon.”

Standing there in the cold and the chaffing wind, and the flurry of snow, you watch him walk away. You think you could go your whole life without having another run in with him and it would still be too soon. It wasn’t that he was just a bit strange even for a young, headstrong soldier. There was something genuinely peculiar about him. Even putting aside the way he’d kept looking at you, there was still a sense of undesirability about the whole situation. From a nuns perspective he presented a multitude of problems, the least of which being temptation that did not fall in line with your vows.

Turning your head to look at the others when he bends to retrieve the culprit from the ground and save him from the agitated rumblings of the antsy crowd, you spare Sister Darya a withering scowl. “I don’t want to hear a word about it.”

The way her eyes flash at you in mute disapproval seems to say ‘I told you so’ but you adamantly ignore it in favor of reaching for another bowl to fill. At the rate you were going it was starting to look like you’d never get that break.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everything seems so normal that at first you almost don’t even realize it’s a dream.

Some distant part of you knows you’d been so tired from the food drive that you’d fallen asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow after taking a nice, long bath to rid yourself of the permanent Snezhnayan chill. But you were glad for the normalcy of it, content to meander your way through whatever your resting subconscious decided to conjure up. The first scene is a field of wildflowers that does not exist in the ice and snow of your motherland. It’s peaceful there and quiet. A welcome haven of tranquility which you dreamed of with some frequency.

You’re more than a little disappointed when it suddenly changes to the town square. One moment you’d been picking dandelions to weave into a wreath for your hair, and the next you were standing in the middle of a cold barren wasteland. The streets were empty around you, the houses dark and silent. The flowers wilt in your hands. Dropping them, you turn in a circle to survey your surroundings. Nothing looked out of place aside from the total lack of people, or even any dogs or cats roaming the area. No birds, either.

Without a particular destination in mind, you start to walk. A part of you hoped the scenery would change again and morph into a more pleasing visage around you, but that’s not what happens. It feels like you spend many minutes just walking up and down the empty streets like a lost ghost, each step its own eternity. Every breath its own death rattle. A niggling thought in the back of your mind whispers of danger, warns of something being not quite right, and yet you don’t retrace your path back to the starting point in the square. Like there was an invisible string tugging you along, you follow its suggestive pull straight through town to the church.

Despite finding this rather strange, even for a dream, you open the door and go inside without pause.

The sanctuary is just as desolate and deserted as everywhere else had been. You hadn’t seen so much as a suggestion of another living being, human or otherwise, and still the string tugs. Trance-like and spellbound, you follow the exigent summons through the grounds; past altars and holy relics, and pews and the baptistery, out into the courtyard. You cross over bare frozen ground to the monastery. Up the long flight of stairs and down the empty hall until you reach the door to your own room.

This is the first thing that gives you any real amount of hesitation but the string just pulls harder. Like a puppet under the guidance of a masterful biloquist, your hand comes up to grab the knob. You watch yourself turn it and then swing the door open. Your skin prickles with static electricity when you cross the threshold but this, too, is empty. Having half expected to walk in and find your own sleeping form huddled on top of the narrow bed, you’re strangely disappointed to find the sheets neatly made and smoothed out. They looked like they would never be disturbed again, as if the room itself had been plucked out of reality and then frozen in time and space.

You feel the string slip away then, as you’re standing just inside the doorway looking over your bed, and a rattling breath puffs out of you at its loss. It leaves you trembling with newfound life, as if whatever force served to guide you here had sedated your mind and body alike to encourage compliance. Now, though, you were suddenly acutely aware of just how disconcerting the trek here had actually been. How heavy and oppressive the static charged air really is.

Hands clenching and unclenching at your sides to restore feeling in them, you cautiously step around the room. It was not a large space and you were able to complete a full circuit in only ten steps. The bed took up a vast majority of the capacity. Your writing desk took up most of the rest. Suspiciously, you even bend to peer under the metal frame that holds the mattress, but there’s nothing there. It was just as void of life as everywhere else.

When you straighten up again something in the single small window in the room catches your attention. You squint at it a moment but your eyes can’t quite make out what it is, so you step closer. There’s a thin layer of condensation coating the glass and, thinking perhaps that was what was obstructing your view, you reach up to wipe it away. The very real sensation of cold, wet moisture under your fingers startles you more than you’d like to admit. Your foggy mind reels and stumbles over the visceral thought.

And then your eyes adjust.

A dull, muted burst of copper. Red horns. It wasn’t outside amongst the trees and the buildings, and the dark overcast sky. It was behind you.

Holding yourself achingly stiff, you slowly turn around. You’re not really sure how you maintain your cool when every inch of your skin was crawling with a violent eruption of goosebumps but you’re exceedingly glad for it as you set your sights on the monster in the doorway. It’s not just large, it’s huge. You think it must be over seven feet tall, perhaps even pushing eight, and it takes up the whole frame with its massive stature. It seems implausible for something of that size to move around as silent as any soft footed cat, but you’re positive you hadn’t heard a single sound. If this was just a figment of your imagination, you sorely hoped it would dissolve away into nothing very soon.

What you think must be its eye just stares at you though, unblinking and unmoving. This tense stand-off lasts so long, in fact, that your frightened adrenaline eventually starts to wear off bit by bit, leaving you feeling somewhat disoriented in the aftermath. Was it even alive? Had your taxed mind and body really summoned the likeness of a horrible monster just to terrorize you in your dreams? And, perhaps most perplexing of all, why did it spark a distant note of familiarity in the dregs of your memory? Almost like you’d seen it or something like it recently, but that couldn’t be true. Certainly you never would have been able to forget such a creature as this …

You just start to toy with the notion of slipping around it to get back out into the hall when it sedately lifts its arm. Frozen in place by a fresh surge of uncertainty and fear, you watch it push the door so that it swings shut with an almost casual motion. The click of the latch catching sounds like the heavy swing of an executioner's blade.

“You came.”

Its deep, raspy voice seems to reverberate in the very air itself and, finally unable to keep your nerves in check any longer, you take a stumbling step back to press into the wall. Your heart threatens to jackhammer straight out of your chest as you frantically try to process the situation. Not only was it very much alive and capable of interacting with the environment, it could also talk. You’re not sure why that disturbs you as much as it does but there’s no denying how your stomach painfully cramps with sinking dread now. Every fiber of your being thrums with the desire to run and flee, to hide from this monster, and yet you knew you were trapped in here with it. Even if you’d wanted to make an attempt at the now closed door the room was much too small. You’d never get around it.

All you can do is quake when it takes a deliberately slow step forward before stopping again. Just looking at you. Gauging your reaction, perhaps? You didn’t really care about any of that.

“What are you?” It’s little more than a frightened whisper.

“Think of me as a god come to collect on what is rightfully mine.”

Your spine snaps straight even as a disconcerted shudder races through you. “You are no god, foul beast. You’re a demon.”

The thing laughs, low and hoarse. “Close, but not quite. You may call me Foul Legacy. Or, if you would prefer, ‘master’ will suffice just as well for your role.”

“I will call you no such thing!” You hiss in indignant affront.

“You will.” It assures you, taking another controlled step closer. “If I command it of you, your only choice will be to obey. If I tell you to get on your knees and worship me then that is what you will do. I told you, didn’t I? I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”

You start to open your mouth to protest but your words fail you, and you slowly close it again. Frantically now, your wide eyed gaze scans the room looking for any sliver of hope for escape. You were cornered against the wall though. You’d never make it past this thing, and the window was much too small for you to crawl through even if it stopped long enough to let you get it open. The window …

Stealing a split second glance at the rectangle of glass just next to your head, you confirm your suspicions. The streaks left behind in the wake of your hand were still there. The cool condensation had felt undeniably real under your skin which meant, at least to some extent, this dream was a tangible one. Or maybe it would’ve been more accurate to call it a hallucination? It didn’t matter.

If this was real enough to touch then that must have meant the monster was too. It was a slim chance but maybe you could fight your way past it and get away …

“Are you so unimpressed with this form that you allow your mind to wander?” The creature remarks, but it doesn’t sound surprised or even offended at this fact. More than anything, it almost sounds amused and that is what ultimately steels your resolve. It’s mistake would be underestimating you.

“I was merely thinking how best to convey my lack of interest in you, oh great demon lord.” You volley back rather primly. “You don’t exactly look like a man, but you are shaped like one … I wonder if a good kick between the legs might get the message across.”

The fiery haired thing throws its head back and laughs. You almost lose your nerve, but you valiantly cling to that tiny spark of courage you still had left. Cautiously, you start to edge your way down the wall.

“Splendid! I would expect nothing less from my future bride! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”

Stilling, you widen your eyes at it. “Your what?”

You realize your mistake a moment too late. When you should have kept moving towards the desk for the most direct path to the door you’d instead allowed it to give you pause. Even though it lasts for but a single heartbeat that’s more than enough time for the monster to act.

It’s on you in the blink of an eye. Grabbing under your arms, it hauls you straight up off your feet like you weighed nothing at all. The sudden rush of movement, the unexpected press of huge, clawed hands curling around your ribcage shocks a sharp gasp out of you. But before you have a chance to do anything else, it shoves you back into the wall with a bodily thud that makes the old rafters tremble. The impact doesn’t hurt, not really — not as much as it could have, given how strong the creature evidently is — and you just gape down at its horrid face in stunned disbelief.

You'd barely even seen it move …

“Oh, that look of surprise is quite charming on you.” It rasps, snickering low under its breath. “I knew I could rip that frigid mask away with enough time. I wonder how else you’re going to warm up for me …”

“W - what are you —“

The words trail off into nothing when the lower half of its jaw hinges open, and a long, snake-like tongue slips out to waggle tauntingly in the thin space separating you from it. Bile rises in your throat as you bring your hands up to claw desperately at its forearms but it doesn’t even seem to notice. That dreadful appendage just keeps unfurling out of its mouth, dripping threads of saliva here or there that land on the floor with soft little plops that make your stomach roil. Trying very hard not to panic, you futilely turn your head away from it.

“Do not fear what I offer you, little nun. I have every intention of making sure you enjoy this just as much as I do.”

It licks you then, that slimy tongue swiping up the side of your face from chin to temple. The wet, quickly cooling stripe it leaves behind makes you choke in disgust. You think it’s reminiscent of a dog, almost, that was much too eager to show its affection to stop long enough and consider how the recipient might feel about it. In the same breath you have the niggling thought that this was not the first time you’ve been reminded of dogs today. Before you have a chance to connect the pieces, the monster speaks again.

“You really will make the most lovely bride, you know. I’m eager to see you with my mark.”

“I rebuke it!” You snap, struggling anew against its hold. “I rebuke you, foul creature! My faith will protect me and - -“

“Hah! I’d like to see that, Sister.”

You go stock still when it says your name, and your heart skips across your ribs like a rock skimming over the surface of a lake. It felt just as heavy too, in that moment.

But the monster doesn’t give you a chance to recover and that heinous tongue flicks across your cheek to rudely slip inside your mouth. You shriek around the abrupt intrusion, eyes wide and unseeing, as the length of it just keeps coming. It squirms and wriggles its way towards the back of your throat almost too quickly for you to react. Running on instinct now, you viciously snap your teeth down but all the creature does is let out a shuddering groan of pleasure, as if it liked the pain. Your jaw loosens in surprise as much as confusion, and it takes quick advantage of that to shove its tongue straight down your gullet.

You gag on it, heaving with a violent wrench as your throat is penetrated. Tears spring up in your eyes but you can’t even scream with it blocking your airway like this. Helpless to do anything else, you just hang there and try not to pass out while it reaches deeper and deeper into you, through your esophagus almost straight down to your guts. It pauses there, giving you a moment to fully process the sensation of your whole body writhing on its tongue, before gradually starting to withdraw back the way it had come. It’s a sick, claustrophobia inducing sensation that only seems to double down when you dry heave and choke around it but, at last, it slips free of your constricting throat, and you suck in a wretched mouthful of air.

Ignoring the way you cough and spit up bubbling sheets of drool, the horned beast takes a moment to swirl its tongue around the interior of your mouth; feeling along the roof, over your tongue, tracing the outline of each individual tooth straight back to your molars. You shudder and heave, struggling to even comprehend exactly how violated you felt in the aftermath of that disgusting experience. You’d been right to call it a demon …

“You taste good.” It says when it finally starts to retract its tongue a moment later, setting its sights on lapping up the drool that coats your chin instead. “Good enough to eat, in fact. I wonder how much you’ll squeal when I feast between your legs.”

“Unhand me this instant,” You wheeze as more of your strength and will to fight slowly comes back to you with the oxygen you pull in. “You are vile and repulsive … I want nothing to do with it!”

“Oh, now that sounds familiar.”

Noising a tiny sound of confusion, you clutch its thick forearms in a death grip while it moves to set you down on your feet. You don’t trust it, not by a long shot, and your greatest fears are soon realized when its fingers curl into the fabric of your smock. The sound of straining thread reaches your ears long before it actually rips and you cry out when the first ragged strip is torn from you with a deafening tear. Piece by piece, it shreds your clothes to tatters no matter how wildly you try to twist away or cling to the quickly dwindling panels of black cotton. All too soon you find yourself naked save your stockings and the bloomers pulled over them, and your brassiere which it promptly shreds too.

Evidently saving your bottoms for last, it reaches for your veil next.

“No!” You shriek, hating the terror you can hear in your own voice as you make a useless, frantic attempt to shove the monster away.

It actually pauses even though you didn’t so much as budge it one little bit though, and it tips its head to the side inquisitively almost like … almost like a dog. There was that association again but where was it coming from? You couldn’t quite seem to remember, either due to your suffocating fear making the memory slip away or because your sleeping subconscious couldn’t quite remember enough to supply it on demand. Either way, you were sure it held the answer to your current predicament and you just couldn’t seem to grasp it.

Why did this thing seem so damn familiar to you?

“You do not want me to see your hair.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it takes everything you have not to outright scoff.

“Of course I don’t, you fiend! It is improper for a — a man, even one such as you, to look at the uncovered head of a nun who has sworn herself to the faith. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

It seems to consider that for a moment, humming softly as if in thought. “It is my understanding that, should one of the Sister’s ever take on a husband, then he alone is permitted to look upon her uncovered hair. Fine. Then I will allow you to keep your modesty until we consummate our union.”

You prickle defensively at the way it almost spits the word, as if with contempt and spite. “I will not be wed to you! I swore an oath to the church!”

“And now you will swear an oath to me.”

Hissing, it reaches out to grab at your bloomers even when you desperately try to slap its hand away. It tears them off just like everything else with neither forethought or effort, and you seethe at your own helplessness as you make one last ditch effort to wrench yourself free. But it’s too strong, too big. Just one of its hands seems to dwarf your hip when it possessively curls around your waist to hold you still. Your chest heaves with quick, panicked breaths as you tip your face down to watch it bring a claw close to your cunt, expecting it to rip off your pantyhose the same way it had all the rest. But all it does is caress over you with a thick knuckle and your face grows even hotter with indignation at the nudge. You couldn’t stand the thought of this thing touching you like this and yet you couldn’t seem to look away from it either.

“I don’t want this,” You whisper, barely even hearing your own voice over the blood that pounds in your ears.

“You will.” It assures you. Unexpectedly gentle, tentative almost, it curls its thick forefinger further back to prod at your crease and you fitfully shudder at the implication.

Was it really going to take you to wife? You’d never heard of anything more ridiculous; a nun and a one eyed demon, horns and all. It was completely useless to try and keep your cool any longer, and you outright whimper when it carefully pokes its claw up to pierce the thin layer of nylon. Hyper aware of how much it would hurt to get nicked by that sharp talon in such a sensitive spot, you force your body to stay as still as you can manage while it rips your stockings open at the crotch. Cool air wafts against your exposed cunt, making you tremble, and it breathes out a sigh of great pleasure as it teases the patch of curls there with those monstrous fingertips.

“Am I the first one to ever see you like this?”

“O - of course you are, foolish beast … I take my vows seriously. This isn’t — it’s not right, do you hear me? I was saving myself …”

Issuing a low, rasping laugh, it reaches up to palm your other hip with a muted squeeze, holding your waist in both hands now. “You were saving yourself for me. This whole time you were always fated to become my bride and you did so well maintaining the sanctity of your body but that’s all over now. You’re free to embrace your most depraved thoughts and urges. Free to languish in the licentious and erotic desires you’ve been suppressing for so long. I offer you no judgment for your human needs. Only pleasure.”

Squirming against its hold when your pussy flutters in unmistakable interest, you bring your hands up to weakly clutch its huge wrists again. You couldn’t believe this was happening. How could your body betray you over a creature like this? “No. I won’t fall for it. I refuse!”

“We shall see.”

Its tongue slips out again, curling through the air like a pink, wet serpent. Down to your chest where it takes a moment to flick over your nipple until it's coated in a fine sheen of spit and achingly stiff. You didn’t want it touching you like that but you also didn’t want to touch it, so you stop yourself from smacking at it. Just keep reminding yourself that this is only a dream — a very realistic, disturbingly tangible one, but a dream nonetheless. Whatever happened here held no weight in the real world.

And maybe … just maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to indulge in the carnal just once?

The prodding tip of its tongue gives your teat one last wet nudge before tracing a path down your front. Past your ribs and its huge thumbs bracketing your waist, over your bellybutton and straight down to brush against your curls. You shudder at the sensation, at the very suggestion of what was to come, but you don’t fight it now. Rather, you hesitantly shift your weight from one foot to the other and then cant your hips forward with a shy little push. The monster hums a rumbling sound of approval before dipping its tongue between your thighs.

Eyes widening at the feel of it on your cunt, you just stand there like a frozen statue while it traces along the seam of your body. You’d never experienced anything like it before, and you were horrified at how eagerly your loins curl in anticipation. You almost let your courage waver, almost second guess your impulsive decision to humor this at all, but until you woke up you were effectively trapped and fighting it clearly wasn’t going to do any good.

Oh, why couldn’t you just wake up from this nightmare already?

“Relax.” It breathes out, unconcerned by the glistening threads of drool that drip from its mouth. “I will not hurt you, little nun.”

You wanted to believe that very badly. Almost as much as you wanted to believe that indulging like this wouldn’t have any impact on your waking conscience.

That slimy tongue starts to push up then, pressing into your lips, and you suck in a harsh breath. It teases around your entrance for a brief moment before it starts to wriggle its way in deeper. The penetration is not unlike that of your throat — all fleshy and smooth, and damp with spit — but it still stretches you enough to toe the line of discomfort. Swaying in its hold, you let out a dizzy groan.

“Oh … that’s - -“

“Only the tip.” The thing laughs.

You try to calm your breathing as it moves around inside you to work your body open, but it’s a losing battle. The stretch of until now untested muscle makes you wince while the slimy sensation of its tongue eagerly moving along your inner sleeve just leaves you wanting to throw up. You don’t think it’s supposed to feel like this, surely. Even without any experience of your own to go off of you’d expected sexual encounters to be more intimate and less … invasive. Less like you were being probed far beyond what any human hands should have been able to reach.

But if it sees any of the uncertainty flashing across your face it doesn’t show it. The demon only worms its tongue deeper and deeper as your passage reluctantly opens until the distant sensation of it bumping the end of you knocks a harried whimper loose. It’s an uncomfortable pressure but it doesn’t hurt. You’re exceedingly glad for that as you awkwardly shuffle your feet further apart to brace against the overload to your senses. It was like burning from the inside out, and the epicenter of it was concentrated squarely in your cunt. You felt certain you were going to combust any moment now.

“Mmm, you taste even better than I imagined. And so tight, too. I can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock the same way.”

Your stomach clenches at the thought of how big a creature of this size must be. Fresh fear turns your veins to ice, and you weakly push against its hands. It doesn’t even seem to notice though, let alone take heed, and instead it just leisurely swirls that unnaturally long tongue around your guts. Back and forth, up and down. You’re dizzy with it and a little nauseous, but it also starts to feel good. Slowly but surely that initial discomfort fades to leave behind a thrumming vibration that makes you wheeze where you’re standing. And with it comes slick. So much slick that what you’d once thought only to be saliva quickly makes itself obvious as your cunt practically floods around the intrusion. It was impossible to comprehend the sheer extent of your arousal and yet it clearly didn’t matter. You’d toed the line a bit too close. Now there was no stopping it.

“P - please … it’s too much!”

Giving your waist a careful squeeze, the demon alters the motion of its tongue from swirling to thrusting. Sedate at first, it withdraws to drag against your interior walls when they squeeze and cling to the appendage and then it pushes back in. Right up to the end of your passage where it can’t go any further and the intense pressure makes you go cross eyed. You can’t even fully process how stuffed your cunt actually is, your legs turning weak and jelly-filled as it slowly increases the pace. The force. You’re beyond ashamed at the sticky wet clicks it pulls from between your thighs, but all you can do is helplessly writhe in its hold.

“Oh — oooh, wait … I - I can’t do this! I can’t!”

“It’s too late for that, Sister. You’re already doing it.”

You mewl at its response and throw your head back to wheeze up at the ceiling. It wasn’t wrong. You’d already crossed the line, yes, but this … this strange, unfamiliar feeling low in your gut was far beyond anything you would have ever expected from this. It was like you had to relieve yourself but also different somehow. A complete unknown you had no idea how to make sense of, and you let out a choked off squeal when the thrumming tension rapidly starts to double and then triple. No amount of thrashing was getting you out of its hold so you squeeze your thighs together in a vain attempt to dissuade it from moving inside you like that but it’s no use. Even trying to curl your legs up doesn’t work.

It just keeps fucking it’s tongue into your shuddering body without pause, and you start to feel truly dizzy as you dangle there between it’s massive hands. How could this be happening to you? And, more pressing, what was happening to you?

“You’re getting close, I suspect.” It sounds quite proud of that, but you’re a little too preoccupied with the jittery, firecracker nerves making you tremble and shake to question it. The pressure was getting almost unbearable now. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“Ahh — ahhghnn, ooohh please Holy Mother, please help me!”

“Aww, don’t start making me jealous. I’m the only god you should be praying to right now.”

Screwing your eyes shut, you turn your face from its horrible unblinking eye but it just laughs in response. Even if you’d wanted to snap at it for being so presumptuous as to think you would worship it in any capacity, you were finding your lungs constricting far too much to draw a proper breath. Your chest heaves with the blinding tension that races through your body and then — so suddenly you don’t get a chance to realize it’s even happening, it abruptly tips over. Spills out to wrack the whole of your body and devolve you into a shuddering mess of spasms.

You shriek and yelp as your pussy almost violently squeezes down on its tongue which just keeps moving insistently inside you. In and out, in and out like a continuous piston that even your tightly clenching guts couldn’t seem to keep at bay. That slippery appendage keeps spearing through you unimpeded, forcing your roiling muscles to keep contracting with each plunge, and you very nearly pass out from how intensely the sensation hits you. It was simultaneously like drowning deep in the bottomless ocean and soaring high overhead at the same time. You couldn’t even begin to make heads or tails of it.

But it starts to fade much too fast. The sharp jolts of undeniable pleasure only last what seems to you like a few seconds and then those cresting waves are rapidly receding, like the tide pulling back from the shoreline. You still can’t quite draw a full breath and yet you soon go slack as the tension drains completely to leave you twitching in the aftermath. An odd sense of elation quickly rushes in to replace it though, and you’re ashamed at how you innately warm to the monster’s presence. You couldn’t believe how good that had felt … and bless the Cryo Archon, did that make you a terrible person?

All of a sudden you weren’t so sure you cared about that anymore, and that terrified you perhaps more than anything else that had happened here in this room.

“You look so good creaming all over my tongue.” It murmurs, drawing your muddled attention away from those fuzzy headed thoughts. “And the way you taste? Burn everything, I could help myself to this pretty cunt all day. I'm eagerly looking forward to consummating our marriage on the next new moon.”

Stirring out of your post-climax stupor, you frown at it in genuine confusion. “You aren’t going to do it now?” You weren't disappointed. Surely not. Just surprised, and very confused.

The demon sighs forlornly — rather dramatically, if you were being honest — and shakes its head. “I’m afraid not. I’d like to, of course, but the mating ritual has its own rules that I can’t supersede. Oh, don’t give me that grumpy look, Sister. I’m not leaving you empty handed tonight, rest assured.”

You draw a quick breath to berate the damned thing but then it starts to pull its long tongue out of your body and you tense up, seething through your teeth instead. The sharp sensitivity still racing through your nerves made you feel raw and tender. Overwrought in the most literal sense, and it finally slips out with a wet little slurp that makes you whimper at the loss as much as at the sound. You hadn’t thought yourself capable of, well … any of that. Any of this.

How were you possibly supposed to rationalize any of it in the light of day?

You’re still trying to work that out when it carries you to the bed where it sets you down, pulls back the sheets and then tucks you in with a truly shocking amount of care. You definitely hadn’t expected that. Not that you’d expected much of anything that had happened over the course of this implausible dream, but you decide not to fight it as the monster takes a moment to brush your veil over the pillow the same as it may have done with your hair. It was all much too strange to think about right now. You could pick it apart and analyze it tomorrow, when you’d had some time to actually process these bizarre happenings.

Or maybe never, if your subconscious was kind enough to let you forget any of this had ever happened in the first place.

“Rest now.” It tells you softly in that low, raspy voice. “I will be back to claim what’s rightfully mine soon enough.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You remember everything, of course.

And somehow that doesn’t surprise you in the least as you lay there in your bed, staring up at the ceiling while warm rays of morning sunlight bounce off the stark, unadorned walls. In retrospect you’re a bit disappointed to think that you could ever be so naive. To believe you’d forget something like that … it had certainly left an impression, at least.

What does strike you as odd though is the warm, continuous cramp in your lower belly. You readily want to write it off as menses related but … that doesn’t seem right. It should have been too soon for that just yet in your menstrual cycle.

Unable to stay your gnawing curiosity any longer, you finally rip the sheets off and look down at yourself. Your plain white nightgown is a bit rumpled but given the dream you’d had that didn’t seem so strange. That’s what you try to tell the niggling voice in the back of your mind anyway as you gather it up around your waist but what you find underneath stops you cold.

Etched into the skin just over the center of your pelvis as though with ink was a four pronged, hexagonal sigil. It was faintly purple in the light, and as clear as day. But that didn’t make any sense. Or rather, you couldn’t make any sense of it at all. You’d been asleep the whole night, here in your room, and this most assuredly had not been there when you’d taken a bath the previous evening …

You bolt upright with a strangled gasp. Turning your head to look at the window sends a debilitating chill racing through your body. Through the morning condensation beading on the glass you could see the evidence of a hand smudge, right where you’d touched it in your dream.

“No.” You whisper at the glass pane and then, with more conviction, “No. That’s not possible!”

It feels like your skin is trying to crawl right off your bones as you shoot out of bed and make a beeline for the tiny closet next to the desk. You rip the door open so forcefully it rattles and groans in protest but you can’t be bothered to worry about that right now. Not when you were staring at your habits, the one you’d worn yesterday, hanging in shreds from the hanger. You couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it, but the proof of it was staring you right in the face. Even your brassiere and bloomers were torn to pieces in the little basket you kept them in on the floor of the closet. The only thing untouched was your veil. Just like in your dream … except, it wasn’t actually a dream, was it?

Too numb to even wail over this revelation, you slowly sink down to the floor and just stare at your ruined clothes for what feels like a lifetime. There had to be some way out of this mess. There had to be.

Right?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The archbishop gives you an exceedingly strange look when you inquire about exorcisms, and it only continues to grow more and more pronounced the more you push the matter while also skirting around the subject at the same time. Not that you could really blame him, of course. You’d had to wait until after the morning service to corner him next to the dais before he could slip out through the side door so you’d had plenty of time to stew over everything, which meant you were coming in perhaps a little hot on the topic. That didn’t matter though. You were determined to get this resolved regardless of the cost, and if that meant having to shake some sense into him before he’d take you seriously then that was exactly what you were going to do.

Luckily it doesn’t come to that, and he eventually relents after you doggedly refused to give up your line of questioning. Giving his head a hopeless shake, he takes on the tone of someone leveling with a crazy person. “I understand your concerns, Sister, but exorcisms aren’t something that we implement unless absolutely necessary. It is very much a last resort, you see, and there is a rigorous process to even get approval for one. I’m afraid there’s not much else I can tell you.”

You remind yourself to take a deep breath and count to five before speaking next. It wouldn’t do to snap at the one person who might actually be able to help you get out of this mess. “With all due respect, Father, I don’t think that answer will suffice. Even if it’s not a full on exorcism, surely there must be smaller measures in place to help … discourage a demonic presence from returning?” Something a bit more effective than prayer and baptism evidently were.

His eyes narrowing in clear suspicion, the archbishop speculatively regards you for a moment. “Is there something you aren’t telling me, Sister?”

Of course it would finally get to this point. You’d expected as much, yes, but that doesn’t make the dread wrenching at your gut any less unbearable. How were you supposed to explain any of what had happened last night when you didn’t even understand it yourself? All you knew was that your clothes were in tatters up in your dorm, the window still showed evidence of your hand wiping across it and your lower stomach …

“Ah, Sister! There you are! Just the lady I was hoping to see.”

You spin around so fast your eyes feel like they’re going to pop right out of your skull. That feeling only increases when you find Ajax standing there at the end of the pew in his neatly pressed uniform and his smile blinding under the light that comes in through the stained glass murals. Your knees buckle and almost completely give out under you when your belly twists as if someone had shoved a red hot iron into it. Subconsciously you lift a hand to cradle the spot where the tattoo was but you couldn’t quite seem to tear your shocked gaze away from him.

That was it, wasn’t it? The association.

You think that has to be right. Had never been more sure of anything else in your life, and yet that doesn’t seem half as pressing as the thrumming arousal that grips you so suddenly and so tightly it actually pulls a quiet whimper out of you. Your cunt floods with it, so much slick producing at the drop of a coin that it makes you feel nauseous and disoriented in the same breath. But how could that be? And why was he just standing there inside the church as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing?

This was hallowed ground … wasn’t it?

“W - what are you doing here?”

Grinning, Ajax tips his head to one side. Inquisitive. Eager. Puppy-like. Bless the Holy Mother, you really were going to be sick.

“Aww, come on. Didn’t I tell you already?” He laughs softly, but those blue, blue eyes reflect none of that same humor. They reflect nothing at all, in fact. “I'd hoped we’d get to meet again after our little run in yesterday, so I just figured I’d take matters into my own hands and speed it up. I brought you flowers.”

You just catch the sound of the archbishop scoffing beside you in obvious disapproval and you would have wholeheartedly agreed with him under better circumstances. But better circumstances would not have found you panting with the effort of keeping your wits about you. It was like you were suffocating under the weighty pressure of the mark branded into your skin, and it almost seems to throb as you numbly look down at the humble bouquet he holds out. You could tell it was handpicked at just a glance. Some frost growing ferns and puffy cats tails, and … purple ivy.

Affection.

Fidelity.

Wedded love.

He couldn’t be serious, could he?

The sly edge that creeps into his otherwise boyish smile seems to suggest that he was, in fact, quite serious. You stumble back a step in your reeling disbelief and the archbishop hurries to grab you by the elbow so he can steady you, but you hardly even notice the presence of his hands. Your eyes, your mind, your entire being was for Ajax and Ajax alone.

“I did not ask for flowers.”

“That’s true but I still wanted you to have them. You caught my eye yesterday, Sister. I hope you won’t turn me down.”

Confusion and uncertainty grip you in equal measure, but it is the low pulse of the mark on your stomach that truly robs you of the ability to speak. It’s hot and uncomfortable, and the way it makes your pussy sympathetically flutter in time with your heartbeat very nearly overrides all of your higher functioning thoughts. Was he really the monster that had accosted you in your sleep or … could it have been a separate entity? One he wasn’t even aware of, if he thought you could really reject him when just the sight of him standing there made you desperate to be filled again. To be feasted upon by that beast.

Slowly, you reach your hand out to accept the bouquet and the invisible string tightens its noose around you almost imperceptibly. Your fate was already sealed. You knew this to be true on an intrinsic, fundamental level.

Foul Legacy had been right to say you’d been saving yourself for it.

For him.

For this.

You would give him your sanctuary, may the Holy Mother save your soul.

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #childe x reader #foul legacy x reader #self insert bullshit

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ooffmlsorry · 6 months

Text

Law with a curious nosey SO

A/N: this is horribly self indulgent fluff and not to be taken seriously. Please bear with me.

"So you mean to tell me," you said disbelievingly, "you don't like bread?"

You swear you saw Law's eye twitch. "Is that a problem?" He spoke through clenched teeth.

If Law were working on something serious you wouldn't be pestering him at all, but his task of emptying supply boxes was inane enough that you could get away with chattering.

Plus, if he wanted to delegate a task for you to complete (far way from him), as your captain, he could. But so far, you were still beside him. Either way you were happy he hadn't rebuffed your company...yet.

"Well, no," You hand him some gauze to shelve. "But that means sandwiches are definitely a no. But what about pizza? Does crust count as bread to you?"

Law grabbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I'm not getting into this with you, Y/N-ya. If you want to ask stupid questions like 'is a hot dog a sandwich?' I'll drop you off for the Straw Hats."

He threatens to strand you for the Straw Hats often, at this point it's a joke amongst the crew.

"Oh please," you roll your eyes. "You've threatened to strand me for worse."

You can tell Law's recalling one of your antics, no doubt with Shachi and Penguin, by the way his lips fight a smirk to form a scowl. The two of you fall into a lull of comfortable near-silence, only speaking to warn him when you're handing him more supplies.

That is until curiosity bubbles up from you once again. "Okay, just hear me out--"

Law audibly sighs.

"If you don't like bread, then what about cake? Brownies? They're both basically just sweet bread. Is it a taste thing or a texture thing? You ask. "What am I going to do for your birthday? Do you like ice cream. We could do ice cream cake."

His movements stutter for a moment and lips part as if he's going to speak, but then they shut again. "You'll do nothing," he says. "You don't even know when my birthday is."

"Well, when is it, captain?"

Law looks down at you for a moment. You can see the irritation in his eyes slowly soften into something more neutral the longer he looks at you. He turns back to the shelf and grins. "April 31st," he says.

"There's an April 31st...?" You mutter to yourself, your nose wrinkling a little. Is there an April 31st?

The grin turns into a short huffed laugh when you realize Law, your captain, is just fucking with you. "Oh screw you!" You nudge him playfully hard with your elbow. "When is it!?"

"You don't need to know." He cuts into another box and continues working, ignoring the way you're pouting.

"Can you at least tell me if you like ice cream?"

You can't believe you've gotten Law, Trafalgar D. Water Law, the stoic, cruel captain of the Heart Pirates to nearly laugh. But he does, a sound that's close to a snort escapes him.

"Sure, I like ice cream."

#law x reader #law x y/n #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece

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hollowtakami · 6 months

Text

WHEN THE WORLD NEEDS YOU

Keigo Takami x GN reader

CONTENT; warning for implications of s/h, suicidal ideation, references to insomnia/depression, hurt comfort, angst, established relationship, pet names (duckie, birdie, baby bird, baby), references to struggles with eating + taking care of yourself amidst depressive episodes

WORD COUNT; 1899

AUTHOR NOTE; it’s currently 5am and my insomnia has kept me up with my thoughts, so i wrote this to try and vent out some feelings. It’s a little heavy in some parts, so please read with caution - if you feel like you can’t read this, please do not feel obligated to do so. You’re loved, you deserve to be here. Please take care of yourself. <3

The morning light seeped under closed curtains, flooding onto the floor of your room. Heavy eyes stared to the ceiling as your heart pounded in your chest. Insomnia had you in the palm of its hand and it was squeezing the life out of you - you were tired, you just wanted rest.

When life felt like a chore, any leftover energy wasted on doing the dishes, you found yourself needing to hug Keigo’s jacket when you tried to fall asleep. It was a survival instinct at this point, you and that jacket against the flurry of thoughts in your head. On nights when Keigo was called in for night patrols, the void that his existence stitched up burst open again. It wasn’t his fault, you put it down to you being broken.

Your eyes were almost as heavy as your heart. That beating clock was weighing you down into the mattress, the heap of blankets on top of you that reminded you of Keigo’s wings, the fur lining of his jacket against your cheek; little things like that brought you peace, but not in this moment. Right now, everything was too much. You groaned, a tired hand lifting to rub your eyes, as if that would aid you in your fruitless attempt at falling asleep.

Not that there was any point in falling asleep. It was well into the early morning now, you’d be awake until afternoon the next day. That’s when you’d be lying in bed, and, like always, your eyes would give up on you. You’d wake up around midnight and the cycle would repeat all over again.

Keigo worked most weekdays, having the day off occasionally, if the agency was feeling generous. He was in high demand most of the time, there’d been a sudden spike in villain activity.

He’d work to keep you safe, he always promised you that before he kissed your knuckles gently, hurrying off to aid citizens in need.

You would always stand on the balcony and watch him fly off, see how his shape got smaller the further away he got. Jealousy burned deep in the pit of your stomach; you felt selfish for it, but you couldn’t help it.

You needed Keigo, but everyone else needed him more because people didn’t know how to behave themselves. You were angry at the world for stealing him, you pinned it down as that and have ignored it since.

But now you were laying alone in your bed, his jacket giving off a homely scent that made your heart hurt. The blankets weren’t enough to replace the weight and warmth of those crimson feathers anymore - you became desperate, your heart was banging against your chest cavity, screaming and begging for release.

The relief never came. It never would until he came back.

Thoughts of that twisted kind of relief found its way into the crossroads of your mind, jumping straight into the highway of neurons and catching you by surprise.

Elsewhere, Keigo was just finishing up with a petty thief who’d robbed a convenience store. This spike of criminal activity was very much morphed into a moral panic by the media. The most dangerous thing Keigo had had to deal with recently was a hostage situation, but for some reason, even those were rare. It seems the LOV had scared most low-level thugs into hiding, or in the very least, had seriously knocked their confidence and they were doing everything they could to seem tough; even if that was stealing melon bread from their local store.

Keigo stretched, yawning as his wings spread. He stood patiently waiting for the police to come and collect the restrained villains at his feet. They were petty thieves, sure, but Keigo had had enough action for one night.

Checking his phone in the meantime, his free, ungloved hand tapped away at his screen to check for any messages from you. He did this a lot, any time he had free time on the job, mostly. He put it down to muscle memory.

He frowned a little when he noticed you hadn’t texted him - at all, in fact.

Humming to himself, he pocketed his phone when he noticed a flash of red and blue, a siren’s screams coming into earshot.

With a laugh, he knelt down to the villains, plucking a feather from his left wing and poking it into the tight ropes of one of the angry thugs.

“I’ll let them take care of you from here!” Keigo saluted towards the police cars approaching, before wasting no time to lift off, cutting through the air with godlike speed. Leisurely flying through the early morning air, Keigo yawned. Granted, the air was sure to wake him up, breeze stroking back his messy golden bangs, tired eyes hidden behind his visor. His wings flapped as he reached for his back pocket, taking out his phone again and calling your number.

“Come on, birdie, pick up,” He clicked his tongue, hoping you’d be awake, even if your lack of messages told him you were probably asleep.

Straight to voicemail. The robotic phone voice played out into the morning breeze and Keigo felt concern start to bubble at the bottom of his stomach. He weighed his options - you definitely hadn’t blocked him, you never turned off your phone either. He eased his mind a little by concluding that you were just asleep. Still, if he was gonna get any sleep himself, he needed to check up on you.

As to not surprise you with his visit, he made sure to text you that he was coming over.

Your phone buzzed. It snapped you out of your thoughts, making you jump. You noticed a missed call from Keigo, a message too. You mumbled to yourself how pathetic you were for drowning so deep in your thoughts that you couldn’t hear your own phone ringing.

You didn’t have the energy to text him back, to tell him that everything was fine and that he didn’t need to come over. The tear stains on your cheek, your racing heart, clammy skin; they told you otherwise.

That one thought pulsated around your head, it was laughing at you, taunting you. You wanted to hold your head, shake it out in a screaming fit.

You would, if there wasn’t a worried, wide-eyed Keigo at your bedroom window.

You slithered off your bed, sniffling and rubbing your eyes as you unlocked and lifted the sill of your window. Keigo wobbled inside, folding his wings and soon regaining his balance. You could feel his eyes darting around your room but you couldn’t look at him, your head down. You were ashamed of yourself, but then again, your depression always did that to you.

Keigo didn’t feel the need to ask as to why you were covering your arms.

His eyes met the spare jacket he gifted you, wrapped messily around one of your pillows next to a pile of blankets scrunched up like discarded paper, forgotten thoughts, notes.

“Duckie,” Keigo’s voice shook as he pulled your head into his chest, his arms folding around your frame as your own stayed stuck to your sides. “Duckie, talk to me.”

Your frame shook with unexpected sobs. You wanted to repress, but you couldn’t. Keigo made you vulnerable. Whether or not that was a good thing, you didn’t know. His hand to your head, softly stroking back the hair stuck to your face with the glue of your tears, his other hand gently pressed into your back, applying a pressure that made you feel safe, secure, amidst the storm of your feelings.

You tried not to make too much noise, nor did you want to soil Keigo’s hero costume with tears you didn’t want to shed in the first place. You felt so pathetic, like you didn’t need to feel this way, like depression only picked on you to mock you - you had no reason to be sad, it told you, you were just a fraud, nobody wanted you here, it pointed and laughed at you every moment you opened your eyes unto the world.

A world you didn’t wish to be born into, a world that cursed you the moment you left the warmth of your mother’s womb. A world that Keigo was in, too.

“I just,” You choked on your emotions. They got stuck in your throat and they stayed there, adamant to steal your breath. “I just don’t wanna do this anymore”

Your words came rushing out into the fabric of Keigo’s shirt, muffled as they poured from your heart. You couldn’t speak anymore, your ribs, shoulders, your entire body relentlessly heaving up and down from your cries.

Keigo held you patiently, hugging you tightly and grounding you. He slowly wrapped his wings around you, letting you get lost in the softness, the warmth.

A small kiss was planted onto your head like a small seed of hope, Keigo whispering into your hair. “Hey, easy, birdie,” His hand stroked your hair again - it was definitely muscle memory. “Just breathe with me, slowly, in and out,”

Gently applying more pressure to your back, Keigo held you closer to him as if he wanted to become one with you, to be able to fight off all your pain for you and set you free. Amidst the exaggerated epidemic of villain activity, the one villain he could never defeat was your sadness, and it killed him.

He felt relieved as he felt you breathing in time with him, your shaking subsiding to small shivers, sobs tuning down to sniffling.

“There you go, baby,” Keigo slowly lifted your chin with a hooked finger, looking into the bloodshot-white of your eyes. “I'm here now, i’m gonna take care of you,”.

If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Keigo’s patience. He understood that your depression found its way into your bone marrow and made functioning, living, so difficult. He knew that there were days where you hardly ate anything or drank any water, days where you swore to yourself you’d do that one chore, but never did - it was okay, he’d always tell you.

“I’m so proud of you, baby bird, so proud of you,” Keigo muttered into your hair, “I’m so glad you’re still here,”

You smiled as best you could.

“I love you, Keigo.” You mumbled, pressing an ear to his chest, the sound of his heartbeat was a lifeline to you.

Keigo breathed through his nose, kissing your forehead and squeezing you gently as he smiled. “I love you too, duckie, so much.”

After calming you down, Keigo would bandage you up, guiding you through it. He’d drink a glass of water and grab a snack with you, because he knew it made it easier for you. He’d hold you in his arms, swaying on his feet and making you giggle because he loved to hear your laugh and see that smile of yours. He loved you, he wanted to keep you safe. He’d keep fighting that villain in your head with you, Keigo was going to be there for you no matter what.

After making sure you were comfortable in bed, he mumbled a small goodnight to you, spooning you and planting gentle kisses on your back and shoulders, humming and lulling you to sleep.

And you would sleep, for the first time in weeks, peacefully.

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genericpuff · 7 months

Note

I can't remember exactly what chapter but early on when Persephone went to talk to Hades during the "one day of the year the citizens get to see their king and file complaints" and side lines it (and the citizens time) to talk about Tori and Alex and his missing eye and they eat lunch... didn't Hades just conjure food instead of making them lunch or am I misremembering?

so this ask sent me on a bit of a ride because i went to go find the scene you were talking about, i knew exactly where it was but i had actually completely FORGOTTEN about the whole lunch bit that came with it

and oh, my fucking god-

MAN'S IS EATING AN ENTIRE STEAK ALL TO HIMSELF. AND HE GIVES HER JUST A COUPLE PASTRIES ???

and yes, he does basically magic it out of nowhere because he casts an 'illusion' to change her outfit and they're basically in a secret room right now. So he definitely didn't prepare this by hand or ahead of time (unless he lied about the whole 'illusion' thing and he really did knock her out and change her clothes against her will, oh god no-) And yet despite this being the "woman of his dreams", he STILL feeds her like a squirrel.

This is more proof as to why Persephone was never plus-sized rep and is written purely through the male gaze. For some reason Rachel is DEAD SET AGAINST feeding this poor girl or letting her chew food onscreen, and that's just the BARE MINIMUM of like, healthy fucking behavior.

Seriously, stop reading this post RIGHT NOW and ask yourself, "When has Persephone actually eaten a meal onscreen?"

Go ahead, I'll wait.

THAT'S RIGHT. SHE NEVER HAS.

The CLOSEST we've ever gotten to her eating a meal was that time she ordered takeout (fucking Chinese takeout???) and we never actually see her eating it. She's stirring it around in one panel and then by the end of the conversation, the food is gone.

Even in scenes where you'd think she'd be eating, like in the scene where she stays at Hera's for dinner, they come up with some random excuse as to why she can't have a full meal.

(I just noticed writing this up btw that they're all eating the same thing she is so why are they so apologetic as if they're all feasting on meat and she's just eating lettuce and cheese??? But it looks like all they're eating is greens and toast, what the fuck is happening-)

It's astounding to me at all that a Greek family wouldn't have anything more in the house for a vegetarian to eat than lettuce and halloumi. Need I remind you that Greek food is Mediterranean, it is primarily vegetarian. Beans, veggies, fruit, breads, and cheeses make up much of the foundation of Greek food so why don't they have anything else in the house; and why in the world is Zeus being all judgmental over her being vegetarian when most of what he eats - AND WHAT HE'S LITERALLY GOT ON HIS PLATE RIGHT NOW - is vegetarian???

And when she DOES eat, it's always the tiniest morsels, like she's a squirrel or a delicate little baby who's never seen food before and whose teeth haven't grown in yet. She'll be holding utensils, she'll have a plate in front of her, but will she eat the food? Will there even be food on the plate?

Anything we see her legitimately consume is juice. Happy little baby needs her juice, her sippy sip.

This is honestly so indicative of how Americanized LO is. From the lack of actual Greek food to vegetarianism being treated like an inferior diet to the main female character not being allowed to even CHEW food onscreen let alone eat, like... what year is it ??? Being a vegetarian isn't a radical idea anymore, and for fuck's sakes, Greek food is readily available even in North America so it shouldn't be this hard to get right! Can we please throw out this 1950's misogyny bullshit of the man stuffing his face with steak while the woman eats nothing but grapefruit skins, hard boiled eggs, and wine??

NO, SHE HASN'T. SHE HASN'T BEEN EATING ENOUGH, WE HAVEN'T SEEN HER EAT A GODDAMN MEAL ONCE SINCE SHE LEFT THE MORTAL REALM. CALL SOMEONE.

NO DON'T FALL FOR THE DISTRACTION PERSEPHONE, IT'S A PLOY TO KEEP YOU FROM EATING, PLEASE JUST TAKE ONE BITE YOU'RE SO CLOSE-

YOUR DAUGHTER IS HUNGRY. SHE SCREAMS FOR THE CHICKEN NUGGER. FEED HER.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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cupoftaae · 1 year

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hey can you please make an oneshot with reader x taehyung(or jungkook) fluff and lil bit smut. taehyung and reader cuddle and deep talk while cockwarming. like it feels so intimate and make tae feel connected to the reader. please. thanks ly

spicy yet cute, thx for the request!

warnings: smutty...obvi (minors dni, like fr)

Stay like this- KTH drabble (m)

so beautiful like LOOK AT HIM ok anyways enjoyyyyy

your head laid between his collar bone and neck, hands brushing down his chest lightly as you come down from your high, breath still heavy. "you ok?" Taehyung asks quietly as he leaned against the headboard, just as out of breath as you are.

"mhm, more than" you smiled as his hands came around to your waist, rubbing your bare skin gently as he began to lift you off of his cock. "wait" you reached for his arms, stopping him. "can we just lay like this for a moment?" you ask, watching him nod, "yeah, we can" he couldn't help but laugh as you leaned forward more, bare chest against his own.

just 2 hours ago you picked Taehyung up at the airport, he had been away for 2 months due to work. Youve always been understanding that his lifestyle is more than demanding, and youve known that the time you both spend together is always limited, but in moments like these, you wish you could lock him in your room forever to just never miss a second with him.

You lean back just slightly, hissing as the overstimulation between your legs. "I missed you so much" he whispered, cupping your face as your hands fell to his waist. "oh yeah? how much?" you teased.

"did I not answer that question for you?" he winked as he brushed hair out of your face and behind your ears.

The room was semi-dark, only sounds are the birds outside and the soft, delicate breathing from your boyfriend and you.

you smiled at him and scanned his face, unable to prevent a sudden sadness that apparently he caught. "Im sorry...that I was gone so long." he holds your hand tightly. "I wont be leaving again anytime soon" he adds.

"Tae, I know you cant control your schedule"

"it doesnt matter, ill bring you with me next time if needed" he said matter of factly, making you giggle a bit, knowing he couldn't do that.

you shook your head, "shh, lets not talk about work, lets just be here right now ok?"

"okay" he smiled at you, pulling you closer to him again as his lips met yours in open mouth kisses.

"mmm" you moaned and rolled your hips gently, making taehyung's dick twitch inside you. "easily riled up" you scoff, teasing him.

"shut up, arent you the one who just came like 3 times?"

"hey!....ive been pent up" you smiled and lean over to peck his lips.

"oh poor baby" his hand trails up your back and gently pulls you closer to his face. "My pretty girl"

you feel a blush creep to your face, sighing as your head rests against his shoulder.

here you both were, sitting on your apartment bed on some random tuesday night while his dick was still buried inside you. It wasnt weird though, it was actually a sweet moment. You two never got to see eachother most days, and feeling spots of intimacy on all levels was important.

"I love you" you whisper, watching your boyfriends face turn pink.

"I love you most, like seriously"

"impossible" you scoff, squeezing his hand.

you still your movements, listening to his heartbeat as you close your eyes softly. He simply was everything to you, and you both were a naturally clingy couple, but it often proved itself more so when you reunited after time apart.

"we should get married" he randomly spoke up, making you sit back to look at him. "this isnt my proposal!" he quickly added, making you laugh

"im just saying,....we should discuss the ideas of it, I would like to marry you one day."

your chest sang with desire and love, feeling like jello as you melted into his embrace. "ah, I would like it too, soon" you added, poking him teasingly.

"well now I have to be smart about it, because you will expect it"

"nuh-uh" you smiled, squeezing his bread cheeks.

"remember-"

"tae stop"

he laughed between words, "remember last year when you thought"

"Stop!" you lightly slapped his shoulder, hiding your face in embarrassment

"-when you thought I was gonna propose to you at the aquarium?" tae threw his head back, laughs from his chest making you eventually give in and giggle as well.

"stop that Kim Taehyung, you were acting suspicious and you were super lovey dovey that day" you pouted

"I would not propose to you in front of the manatees, y/n."

"first of all....they are called chubby mermaids"

He laughed and squeezed your hips, smiling at your cuteness.

"second of all, you know they are my favorite"

"ok ok im sorry for insulting your chubby mammal mermaids, and by the way, the reason I was so touchy that day was because you looked super cute....and jimin was eyeing you the entire time"

you scoffed and looked at him

"jimin doesnt care, tae"

"yes he does, hes only hangs with me when you are there too"

"because we are friends!!"

"mhm" he huffed and leaned his head back

"maybe you should just hurry up and propose before he does" you teased

"ah y/n, my favorite little pain in the ass"

you giggled and peppered kisses all over his face, hugging him tightly in a random fit of love

"mmm I love youuuuu" you sang, sitting back

"I love you too, pretty girl"

you fluffed his hair up and smiled

"wanna shower?" he asked

"if thats you asking to have sex again you could have ju-"

he laughed and shook his head, "no like, let me wash your hair and stuff"

"oh" your face softened, content at his sudden domestic suggestion.

"is that ok?"

"of course" you leaned forward to peck his lips before eventually pulling off him, his now soft dick slipping out from between you.

he sat up more and helped you off the bed, unable to contain his laughter as you struggled to stand.

"dont laugh at me, you did this" you scoffed

"you asked for it"

a/n- Hi guys, im sorry this is kinda short, Ive been busy this week with family stuff, then I also am trying to add something new to the next chapter of Forever And A Day, it might come out on friday night, or saturday, because I hate publishing work and feeling iffy :0

#taehyung smut #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung bts #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts #taehyung drabble #tae fic #tae smut #tae x reader #tae fluff #tae drabble

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