I need more info on your Ravenclaw girl since 5 minutes ago give me something I AM STARVED
(parody Nanno cuz she is my role model)
Name: Cassandra Seymour
Date of birth: 18th August ???
MBIT: ESFP
Nationality: French (Mum: Guatemalan-French, Dad: Italian/Spanish)
Blood status: Half-blood
Wand: English oakwood with a unicorn hair core, 10 and quite bendy flexibility
House: Ravenclaw
Patronus: Bat
The new mystery girl who attended Hogwarts on the same day as Agatha (MC) as a fifth-year transferred from Beauxbatons, but Agatha pulled all attention from her because of the dragon attack.
Cassandra Seymour is a lively and cheerful girl who has a creative mind. Despite considering herself a slow learner and not particularly smart, she was sorted into Ravenclaw at Hogwarts. She grew up in a multilingual family, speaking French, Spanish, Italian, and Latin. And the way she talks doesn't even sound like people from this era.
Cassandra first appeared in 1890 and later disappeared at the end of the year of study, nobody knows exactly who she is and what's happening to her but then in The year 1914, she appeared again as a newly transferred student from Beauxbatons. remaining youthful and unchanged.
Cassandra's relationship with Agatha and Sebastian is complex. She initially helps bring them together, but as time passes, tensions arise. Agatha sees Cassandra as a rival for Sebastian's attention, while Sebastian values Cassandra as a friend. Cassandra tries to support their relationship while dealing with her feelings. It's a mix of friendship, rivalry, and unspoken emotions.
(Cass with Sebastian in 1890 and Cass with Professor Sallow in 1914)
And if someone recognized her from 1890 she would say "Oh that must be my mother" and give you a cheeky smile.
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⸸ Savior ⸸
Satan x Fem! Reader (female presenting)
🔞 NSFW. Minors DNI.🔞
Warnings: rough penetration, semi-conciousness, language
AN: Just a little brainrot I've had cookin' in my head and decided to share with the class. As per usual, please pardon any grammatical errors.
That familiar pain. The burning ache.
‘Not again’
You look to your side toward Satan in desperation as your stride slows, your lungs yearning to take unimpeded breaths of air but each time you breath in, it's as if you're inhaling needles and foreign ozone.
“S-satan..” You croak, hastily seeking his attention by reaching for his sleeve, but the attentive king had already noticed. With no Sitri and Ppyong present, the king couldn't be happier. But not so much knowing this phenomenon plagues you and causes you pain. Pain not inflicted by his own hands, that is.
“Your room. Now” He commands with a knowing smile.
He grabs your hand, you shut your eyes, desperately trying to conjure up the familiar space, but alas, your thoughts are repeatedly interrupted by panic. You simply can not take in a good enough breath to maintain your train of thought.
“Y/n, hurry” Satan's stern voice presses. He grips your shoulders, noting the tears pricking your eyes when you open them in panic once again.
“c-can’t” you inhale as sharply as you can to gather any air that would make it through.
You claw at your throat with one hand while holding his forearm with the other in a silent cry for help.
“Shit” Satan frowns, then scans the area quickly. Most buildings are dilapidated and have fallen to ruin. ‘Damn angels’ he thinks, dragging you further down the deserted street in hopes of finding a space untouched by violence. If he had it his way, he'd fuck you where you stood, but that was reckless.
You continue to take in short puffs of air, wheezing now, nearly losing your footing.
Satan steadies you with a protective grip on your forearm, and when you both come to a stop near a darkened alley, he makes an executive decision.
“Fuck it”
It'll have to do.
It's dark and dank. Musty with the smell of dry rotted wood and moldy, wet brick. A stark contrast to the evening's inviting and dusky setting sun outside of the alley. Satan drags you in deeper, avoiding a few leaky pipes, debris, and puddles, continuously on alert to be sure no angels are on your heels.
Once the man is satisfied with a spot closest to a dead-end, the king turns and graces you with one of his signature kisses without hesitation. In the back of his mind, he's unsure if the transfer of energy will work without the proper head space, but right now there's no time to hypothesize.
His kiss deepens when a pained whimper escapes your lips.
He needs to hurry, less he lose his favorite human.
Through your dazed expression you feel the cold chill and rough surface of something hard pressed to your back.
“I've got you…” He murmurs against your lips and presses you closer against the wall, quickly reaching down to undo and slip your bottoms from your hips, the tell tale sound of a belt buckle and zipper of his jumpsuit follows after. Fabric now left to pool at both your feet.
Even in dire times, his human was still beautiful.
With his boxers at his hips, the king hoists you up by the ass, pressing against you, his dick now free and already impossibly hard knowing your most precious space is currently his for the taking.
Using the wall to keep you sandwiched against his broad chest, Satan pistons your pussy without warm-up or warning; relishing in the tight squeeze and slowly moistening flesh fighting to adjust to the intrusion. He'll apologize later…maybe.
“Argh!” A strangled cry escapes your throat despite the innate lack of air, to which a hand comes down over your mouth to quickly muffle the sounds, forcing you to attempt harsh breaths through your nose.
“Easy, little lamb. You don't want those creatures to interrupt our fun, do you?” he offers quietly.
The only response he receives comes in the form of whimpers each time he re-enters, those red eyes keeping you locked in a dazed trance.
The demon thrusts harshly upward, forgoing a lazy pace and opting for one that's sure to leave your insides bruised. His large hand grips your ass, while his other moves from your mouth to hold your thigh, guiding you up and down.
While the blooming pleasure feels incredible, it's nearly drowned out by your lack of air supply. The energy isn't being absorbed fast enough and your vision starts to go dim. You claw at Satan's shoulder, breaking skin in an attempt to stay grounded and push through the fog, but the tightness in your chest is nearly unbearable.
“Stay with me, y/n. Fuck…you feel so good…That's right, abuse my flesh. Use me!” Satan muses through clenched teeth and pushes in deeper, digging his nails into the soft fat of your ass.
Your body feels like jello. You feel as though you're underwater. Your eyes begin to roll, practically a limp, play-thing in the demon's arms, and it only spurs him on.
The demon shifts his hips in a way that manages to prod against a more sensitive spot deep within your pussy, pushing out another strangled cry from your near empty lungs. His lips connect with yours again to swallow the sound.
“Look at my little human. At the presepist of death, yet drunk off the delicious burn of pleasure…” he coos near your jaw as it goes slack in a silent scream. Your head weightlessly pulls to the side just a bit, only to be yanked back upright abruptly by the chin.
“Look at me, y/n. Hey…HEY. Focus” he taps your cheek a bit rougher than intended, but it brings your fucked out, panicked eyes back to his face.
God, you were gorgeous.
Terror and bliss playing tug of war with your features, and his heart. Fervent groans of both pain and ecstacy continuously escaping your throat. He wished he could take a picture. To freeze the expression on your face in time.
To show you…to tease you…
To piss you off.
The thought of your rage upon seeing yourself in such a vulnerable state of disarray had the demon's eyes crossing slightly, tongue lapping out and dripping with saliva into the space between your bodies. His dick engorged further as he envisioned the twisted, raw anger in your words as you scolded him for his behavior.
A bit of liquid dripped down the side of his face and over his cheek. He licked it away greedily when it reached his lips; the taste salty and familiar - his horns were leaking. He felt heavy against your walls, his balls clapped rhythmically against your ass cheeks to the beat of each relentless plunge within. You were so wet around him, for him, and it only increased the faster he moved. That's a good thing. It meant you were still alive. You were still his.
Despite your slowly deteriorating state, the king could feel the needy squeeze of your pussy keeping him locked deep inside - you were close.
“Just like that.” he breathes, brows creased in concentration.
The muscles of Satan's ass flexed and relaxed, forcing you upward in his grip.
The darkness that licked at the edges of your vision remained, but the familiar burn in your core was smoldering - growing.
“S-satan” you manage to croak again, barely above a whisper. You held on to the wefts of hair on his shoulders like anchors with what little strength you had, managing to catch the glimmer of two crimson, half lidded eyes boring into your face through the glaze clouding your vision.
“Cum for me, little lamb. Let me be your savior. Pray to me. Let me be your God” He grinned above you, face flushed red and wild.
The feeling was damn near torture. Being tugged back and forth between consciousness and a mental, black void that threatened to swallow you whole, but it did not extinguish the growing flame in your gut, nay, it pushed you further; a feeling akin to a taut rubber band.
Satan set a punishing rhythm then, the sound of wet flesh colliding together bounced off the walls around you both. His hips began to sputter, his thrusts slowed to harsh grinding where the tight curls of his pubic hair rubbed deliciously against your throbbing clit.
“S-satan…I..cum-ing!”
The moment the proverbial rubber band snapped was the moment an orgasm so forceful--so earth shattering--rocked through your arched body, and set your senses alight.
Your only warning from the demon was a drawn-out grunt that reverberated deep in his chest and his teeth coming down to latch onto your shoulder to muffle his own sounds.
A rush of hot warmth coats your insides simultaneously, and color bursts forth into your vision; air once again floods your lungs with the deepest of breaths.
In the few moments following, the only thing you remembered was a gentle hand resting on your cheek and the words 'sleep now' being uttered before your world went black.
⸸⸸⸸⸸
“You did so well. But now you need rest” The king had you dressed, as best as he could anyways, and in his arms bridal style heading for home.
Although the transfer worked and he managed to save you, it was hard to ignore the small sense of dread that bottomed out in his stomach seeing you in distress.
The further he walked, cradling your body against his, your breaths now even, he contemplated.
In the beginning, the possessiveness he felt for you had been brought on by territorial instincts nurtured by your connection to Solomon, but the longer he spent time with you, his idea of who you were had started to change.
You were interesting for many reasons, reasons he couldn't quite put his finger on, and both Ppyong and Sitri had taken a liking to you as well, though in a way that felt completely different from Solomon's time in hell.
Did that make him…happy? It's been a long time since he felt an ounce of happiness, depression was unkind like that. But you. Your presence had started to fan those flames. The thought brought a small smile to his face.
“What are you doing to me, y/n?” He asks quietly, sweeping his eyes over your relaxed, sleeping face. An inkling of warmth tingling in his chest.
Satan wasn't sure what was going on, but in that moment, he vowed to be there when you needed him. To stay by your side and protect you.
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