#and everyone else is DESTROYING their parts holy shit

[tarjapearce]

Heathens (Pt. 2)

Priest! Miguel O'Hara x Nun! Reader

Art by @mar_mar0u in X

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Religious topics, Corruption Kink, Oral in holy places (Male receiving) Fingering, implicit Breeding kink, Angst, violence (Whipping, and other physical injuries) Character background, sexual and mutual pining, power dynamics, not proofread.

Summary: Father Miguel is growing tired of his beatific life.

A|N : reblogs and feedback fuel me :'). Thanks in advance.

Previous Spanish Version

Miguel tried, tried with all his might to fool himself. It was one of those things he excelled at like no other.

The war won't reach us.

He'd always mumble to his coworkers back at the machinery factory. A place he was designated after failing thr recruitment's medical tests. On purpose.

He faked his eye sight terrible and a slurred speech enough for the doctors to deem him a failing specimen that wouldn't last for more than days, in a war that had brought nothing but calamit to everyone involved.

People barely spoke to him at the factory, which played off perfect. He did his job, none bothered him except for reaching things too far of reach, and he got home safe.

A lanky man that slowly but surely developed his brawns within the heavy duty line. His job was to fix and assemble motors that would end up in cars, planes, ships and whatever medium used to destroy the enemy.

Part of Nueva York was already destroyed. The echelons in society blurred to the point of subduing everyone under the same category in the neighbor states. Refugees.

The church played an important part as they took as many as they could under their beatific walls.

Miguel wasn't a devote believer, but respected the business enough to help whenever they required it in his little town. Anyone who helped others in need had his respect.

If the church needed a new roof to harbor in more refugees, he and other men would make it. The innate feeling of helping and guiding others was something the Church's Father always complimented.

He explained Miguel what would he do in case he turned himself to God and follow a path of holy life. But no matter how much the Father spoke, his ties to the world and it's pleasures were too much to give up.

Miguel had all the qualities of being the perfect Father, but how could he consider such thing when the woman underneath him, writhed while clawing at his back, and begged the heavens above for him to not stop? Begged him to plow harder within her drenched and spasming walls over and over?

A Father would never do that. He didn't care if he was called basic for wanting sex. He didn't care if he was called greedy for wanting a nice car and a little property in a secluded area in the outskirts of Roeville.

And he definitely didn't care if he was called thoughtless for wanting a little family in the admist of chaos. Someone to get home to. Cause again, a Church's father would never. They could never do such things. If anything, he'd fulfill the lord's command of multiplying one day.

He was more than happy as he was, living a relatively innocuous life.

The war won't reach us.

A lie he fed himself to the point of turning it into his personal mantra. And when none else that those three words came into the town, in the shape of armored rebels, destroying everything he had worked for so hard, Miguel knew a decision needed to be done.

He took the remaining survivors out and guided them away from cruel eyes that wouldn't doubt into recruiting them into their madness.

He might have escaped the elite pass to a major scale war, but he often forgot about the opposition. The opportunists that would gain power in the right hands of ignorant and bloodthirsty people.

The rebels had gone town to town, forcefully recruiting men to join their barracks, to fight against a new order that promised nothing but their rights removed.

Miguel didn't want to know shit about it.  He didn't want to partake in a war he didn't start. He didn't want to leave the commodities life had served him so far. In fact, as he guided the people through the frozen river, he begged his neglected friend above to allow him to keep a rather easy life.

But rebels caught up to him, killing those that dared to run away, gaining the immediate end for treason to a cause they've never pledged for. A bullet ricocheted on the six year old boy propped on his shoulders, falling immediately to the glacial waters.

Miguel didn't doubt and pulled the kid out, despite feeling his bones freezing and numbing, and hauled him to the ground. If blood loss didn't kill him, hypothermia would. There was little he could do but offer the child a few words of consolation as he held his feeble and trembling form, drowning in tears; feeling the short life escaping warmly through his fingers.

Shouting, screaming and a couple of shots was all he could discern before an armored man pulled him by the collar, making him drop the boy's body to the ground and kneel. The tip of the man's weapon rested a bit too intimate on his head.

"P-Por favor!" (Please)

Miguel mumbled in between nervous pants snd clattering teeth as his hands rose in defense.

The man interrogated him, in spanish. Where was he from, where were the rest and what did he do. And like an epiphany, his mouth spilled the words not even in his wildest dreams he thought pronouncing.

"Soy... Soy un Padre, de la Parroquia San Buenaventura. Sólo vine a ayudar." (I'm a Father, from San Buenaventura's Parish. I came here to help.)

Said parish had been visited during his childhood and possibly long forgotten and non-existant by now, everything he knew about holy endeavours was thanks to his reluctant catholic upbringing. And it was enough to prolonging his stay in this realm.

"Porqué huiste entonces?" (Why did you run away then?)

"No quiero morir." (I don't wanna die.)

The man scrutinized his soul, but the words had came out his plump mouth with such conviction, it left no room for doubtsto those that wouldn't hesitate in shooting at the minimum sign of lying.

Miguel could be one of those people that could say undoubtedly God has a dark sense of humor. Cause none other than the leader asked him to bless him and his weapons to then take the reduced and mourning group to the nearest church.

And now, almost a decade and holy studies later, he preached the mass to people in town. Donned with the holy robes that would screech with condemning words if people ever knew what crossed his mind every time he laid his eyes on you.

His little lamb. His ever delicious little lamb, awaiting to be corrupted by none other than the wolf himself.

Cause that night, back at his den, corruption had ruled over both of your minds. Not only he had shown you what pleasure was and how you could achieve it on your own, but promised more.

More of him exploring places of your body none had the blessing of doing so before. More of him tasting those areas you only though of a single purpose, but his tongue had proven multi-task. More of that debauchery ritual where you'd finally be his.

With a heavy heart and little words beyond see you soon, you left to your duties, back to the reality. Leaving him alone with a painful and raging boner. Screaming for him to not neglect it that way ever again.

And he tried. By God he was trying to not pull you to a nearby storage room and taste you again. His whole body turned into this needy mass of nerves whenever you stared his way a second too long.

The remaining innocence in you, edged him into fisting his hand around himself and pump into oblivion at night before sleeping. His mind took a recent knack for torturing him.

It reminded him of the first months into his chastity vows, and how close he was into breaking them with a woman that was beyond willing to satisfy her own curiosity regarding priests, but war, his cruel friend; acted as the main motivator to remain within line, since it still waged outside and men were still needed outside to die.

And no matter how many gorgeous women paraded under his radar, his vows remained intact.

Until you showed up, drenched in his door, in dire need of help. Not only had you shaken every promise he was trained to believe, to their very core. But ebbed him to his old sinful ways.

The wolf's pelt was growing too large within the sheep's robe he had disguised himself with, in order to run from a fate that was nothing more than a premature death.

The parishioner's voice snapped him out of his darkening thoughts, he dictated a penance and an absolution prayer, not really caring for the man's sins, cause he was worse. He closed the confessional window and stood to open the door.

Only to find the reason of his impure thoughts before him, sitting on the floor, polishing the altar's candle-snuffer.

His dark pupils were blown wide as your hands stroked with gentle moves the handle. How such mundane task turned his gears for the wrong turn was the proof of your power over him.

His groin twitched when your hand circled around the brass bar and moved up and down the rag to remove as much dust as possible, pumping softly.

"Sister."

His voice came out in a husky mumble he tried to keep in his usual deep tinge. But his composure cracked as soon as you turned around and stared back with those beautiful doe eyes of yours.

He gulped.

"What are you doing, pequeña?"

"Sister Leanne sent me to polish the altar's tool as a punishment for the missing vegetables in the inventory."

You mumbled between nervous laughs. And he chuckled. Of course Sister Leanne would do that. As gentle as the woman was, she didn't hesitate into applying discipline the way she saw fit.

She needed to set an example, even more when she was about to be ascended to Mother Superior or Abess.

"I apologize."

"Whatever for, Father?

"I can't deny part of it it's my fault. As I lead you astray from your original tasks."

A flush crept on your cheeks as soon as your mind flooded with the remnants of that night.

"It was the rain, Father. Not you."

"I thought I told you to not call me that when alone."

"I'm sorry. Some habits are hard to kill."

"And remove."

You swallowed a thick lump. His eyes were already undressing you with his red-ish gleam.

"I... started to wear less layers."

May God have mercy on his soul, cause his need gnawing at his flesh certainly wasn't having it. His chest puffed with a deep inhale

"You were right about them. They're... They're heavy to wear. Makes it impractical for almost everything."

He nodded knowingly as an idea popped in his already tainted and corrupted mind.

"That's true. Robes makes it heavier and slows you down."

"I thought the cassock was lightweight? "

He shook his head and offered you his hand for you to stand up. A hidden invitation to his wicked game. You took it.

"It is when done with the proper materials. Otherwise is heavy." He led you inside the confessional. And closed the door as soon as you were in. Cornering you against the hefty oak doors.

Your breath hitched as soon as his hands placed yours on his chest. A pleased purr rumbled through upon the contact.

"Heavy isn't it?" You nodded while feeling the smooth and thick fibers of cotton, stretching all over his chest underneath your fingertips.

"That's why I don't use layers underneath."

Heat begun pooling in the pit of your stomach, "You don't?

He didn't have to instruct you verbally to confirm such thing. His eyes guided your hands through the map of his body to finally stop inches above his tightened crotch.

His heart crinkled with utter delight upon seeing your eyes widen and blink while admiring him. Hardening even further at every second you weren't touching him.

"It's alright. Don't be ashamed. Knowing one's body is crucial to identify where some sins come from."

He sat at the chair, his throne, with his legs sprawled, the cassock tightened around his well sculpted and worked legs, tightening enough to outline the silhouette of his awakening cock.

The confessional was custom built, and given his height, two people could fit in. And what better use for it than having you inside with him. Trapped between his neverending legs.

"Would you know what to name a man's anatomy, pequeña?"

He removed the fabric belt around his waist to then unbutton the lower part of the cassock. Revealing a set of lighter pants, trapping his erection underneath.

Your eyes shamelessly remained on the happy trail leading to the growing bulge between his legs. Curiosity was definitely taking a choke hold on your brain. Although built big enough for two people average sized, you had to crawl closer between him.

"I believe it's called a... c-cock."

"A cock, yes." He nodded proudly, "And how would you know such thing, Hm?"

He beckoned you closer, holding your chin gently while at it.

"T-There's an anatomy book well hidden in the library. I don't wish to remain completely ignorant to my surroundings, Father."

"Ah, I see." He let the father calling go for this time, cause the surprise in your face was everything a man could get when about to perform one of the most lascivious of acts.

He took himself out, letting his erection to sprung in it's full glory before you.

"Does it looks like the one in the book?"

You shook your head softly. His flushed and engorged tip, twitched upon feeling your breath oh so close to his velvet skin.

"At all."

The rich fragrance of clean soap and woody incense remained in his skin.

"You're allowed to touch."

With a new gulp on your throat and hesitating hands, your fingertips grazed  his tip. Earning a little hiss from him. Finally feeling other textures that wasn't his calloused hands.

Curiosity made you take him firmer around the base, his hands enveloped yours and guided you to stroke him, up and down.

Your cheeks flushed even deeper while watching his face contorting in pure bliss. It reminded you the way he looked at you as he was devouring your now tingling flesh.

"Does it feels good?"

He nodded through hazed eyes, urging you to move your hand faster with his own, setting a tortuous tempo.

"Oh, very. Very good." he nodded and panted breathlessly, nails clawing at the cushioned part of his seat.

"Then... why is a sin?"

As much as he wanted to quench your learning thirst and instruct you through it, he couldn't care less about what was a sin and what not. But he could satisfy said interest with a more practical example.

"Open your mouth." He talked as he took his hefty cock and beckoned impossibly closer.

Your clothed chest rested inches away from his inner thighs. Lips parted open and when his tip rubbed between your lips, your tongue moved on its own and swirled on his slit. Earning a shaky whimper from him.

"Dios..." His head was thrown back as you took his whole tip inside. The warmth your lush mouth offered couldn't be compared. His hips bucked and you groaned when another inch was pushed in.

"Keep going, pequeña." He husked as he slid a hand underneath your headdress and took a gentle hold of your nape. With enough pressure he guided you up and down pushing as much cock as he could into your mouth, withdrawing carefully whenever you gagged.

The soft saltine taste bursted all over your taste buds, singing in delight. You were tasting a man. The proper way. You hummed approvingly.

Once more he took himself by the base and slapped your awaiting tongue a couple of times with his tip before pushing in  again.

His shaky groans turned into deep and raged pants the more your cheeks hollowed around him, licking and sucking in a pace that had him thrusting his hips softly and melting. His hands didn't know whether to claw or hold on whatever surface they had underneath.

The wet and sloshing noises from your mouth made him dizzy, and your hand squeezing his balls gently wasn't helping. Seeing your eyes filled with the same unmarred lust as his, corroded any rational and holy thought our of his frying brain.

You were dangerous. Oh, so dangerous he could mistake you for the very snake that temped Eve back in Eden, cause your tongue swirled and tasted in the right places like no other, despite being your first time.

And by God, he knew you weren't made for a holy life. You couldn't. He refused to believe you were made for such simple and boring life when you were sucking his demons out with such artistry, he couldn't feel but jealous at the sudden thought of someone else teaching you such things.

No woman had achieved such feat on him before by using solely her mouth.

"Sigue, por favor-" He gulped and bit his lip before a loud moan could escape him. His eyes tried to keep on front watching you, bobbing your head up and down. (Keep it going)

If your mouth was delicious, he couldn't help but wonder, how your insides felt.

Would you be drenched? Would you be tight for him? Would you take him as well as your mouth did? Of course you would. You were using your mouth only and left him yearning for more than that.

His teeth bared as his pants turned even more raged and blown. The soft kisses alternated between kitten kicks and unabashed lapping, bending not only his will, but the urge to hold you in place and have fun with your mouth.

The sight of you being bold and taking him in a go completely, made him explode with an acute, shaking and broken whimper.

"Mnnfuck-" He held you in place while he squeezed the very last drop of his hot cum down your throat. All while you looked at him with drunk, pleasurable eyes as you swallowed him.

His chest heaved and his hand rubbed over his face, awash with raw need. But you didn't stop there.

A low humming rumbled through, reverberating through his skin. Sending another wave of jolts down his spine. His head was spinning a second per hour

"W-Wait..." but you didn't listen, you kept tasting and his teeth clenched, "E-Esperate-" He blabbed and choked, his trembling hand took a firm hold of your headdress and pulled his limping cock out your mouth with a squelching pop.

But your tongue sought him, hungry and hypnotised by his taste.

"Stop- Oh Dios... S... Stop-" you whined as he hunched and rested his forehead against yours, putting his throbbing cock back to it's confinements. His breath fanned over your mouth and kissed you deeply. Drowning any furtive and remaining moans.

His tongue swirled over yours, luring it only for a mischievous suck to be delivered, tasting himself in the process.

"Please" You clung to him, body doused with fire, and his nose heaved deeply, still recovering from what you provoked within. His eyes remained shut for a second, to then seizing you with a tender look.

"Not yet, pequeña."

"Not yet. Then, when?!" You whined impatiently, "If you don't want me anymore just say it!"

He understood your frustration, he really did. With gentle hands he cupped your face.

"I do want you." He pecked your lips, "More than this pretty head of yours refuses to believe. But we must wait."

"I don't want to!" You sniffed and he kissed your head once again, soothing your frustration with feathery kisses. Then he stood and picked you up easily in his arms to finally sit you on his chair.

"If I am to claim you, is cause I'm taking my time to destroy every bit of your mind, understand?"

His hands immediately stirred up the skirt of your habit up to your waist, proving your words true of you wearing less layers, leaving your thighs and cunt bare to him as they were parted and placed on each side of the chair's arms.

With a serpent-like motion, he swept his tongue over his lips, awash with prurience when his gaze remained in your drenched entrance. Drooling and glistening, begging to be taken.

There was something he couldn't truly explain when he had you like that. It played too many good tricks in his dazed mind.

As much as he wanted to bury himself to the hilt, he couldn't. He didn't want you to be marked by a whip and shunned before the whole church as a heathen.

He didn't want you to bear with Cain's mark and be despised by the whole community just cause you gave into a natural need.

Two of his fingers coated in your slick, to then rub ever gently at your needy and throbbing nub of nerves. Gaining him a soft coo.

"I need to take my time to posses every bit of you, dear."

Your mouth gaped and whimpered as he slid inside with a sloshing fwop. Walls immediately etched to his fingers, squeezing him and urging to go deeper.

"You think I don't want to take you right here? " He kissed your lips and then your jaw

His thumb rubbed in slow but firm strokes, applying enough pressure to have you a blabbing mess and tidal waves of pleasure quenching your body's primal need.

His fingers hooking and wriggling inside only earned him a renewed groan. Your hands clutched at the surface behind you, as his fingers delved deeper, meaner and faster. Your frame shook with every stroke he delivered in your weeping walls.

He had to cover your mouth at the lewdness spilling out nonstop of it, to focus on the increasing wetness he provoked in your slurping hole.

A shaky whimper was muffled the more he pumped his fingers into you, grazing that sweet and exquisite spot that got your body trembling and your walls contracting around him in a wicked and debauched symphony. Your head was thrown back, too heavy with lascivious thoughts to function properly.

Mouth parted to whine and eyes remained shut, unable to digest the obscene display of prowess by his fingers. Your tightness increased by every second, signaling your need for release.

"Come"

An order. Disobeying was out of the question. A specific thrust had your spine arching and your soaked hole exploding with something so devastatingly delicious, it had you panting and mewling in heat as you drenched Miguel's hand and forearm completely, he kept prodding and poking at that gummy spot within you. Your nails clawed at the seat, trying to anchor your floating soul to your body.

"Oh my God!" You hiccuped in a garbled moan.

His palm kept your stuttering hips under control, his eyes remained at the spasming muscles within you, trying to keep his fingers inside, sucking, squeezing and milking him.

"Tan perfecta." He crooned while pulling out gently to lick and slurp his fingers clean and kiss you with all his might . (So perfect)

Too enraptured in your taste to hear the approaching steps until too late.

"Father O'Hara?"

The voice from the other side of the wall made both to freeze in place. Your eyes went wide and his grip on your panting mouth tightened.

"Are you there?"

Miguel placed a drenched finger in his lips.

Closing your eyes shut, you both awaited for whoever that had arrived to leave, and once the steps could no longer be heard, he released you.

And you gasped and panted for air and he smirked. Admiring with wickedness at his creation. He could already taste your little cries and whimpers for more of him. And damn him if he was lying if his mind didn't come up with the vilest of fantasies, like defiling you in the altar, at everyone's sight, so they could know the real him and show everyone he had claimed you and what they were missing.

He helped you on your feet and wipe away the thin layer of sweat covering your face with utmost care.

But that side was reserved to none else but you. His beloved lamb.

"Soon, I promise. Okay?"

He kissed your lips deeply, sealing his words with a promise. He was a man of word.

You'd have to wait a bit longer.

----

The dull ache in your lower belly announced your period's arrival. Asking the head of the medical supplies and writing your name in a book was a subtle way to keep the youngsters and  women in fertile age in check.

Given the few past experiences with nuns suddenly getting pregnant, security when it came to outings increased. Same for the Parish. Another guard was hired to keep the morning shift in case men came to lurk around.

The parish had a reputation to have beautiful nuns under the roof, even if older.

But since you had your period, no harm approached. You could see a little proud smile in Sister Danielle as you fetched your supplies for the week. Teas, pads, some painkillers and a brand new addition, moist towelettes from the city.

"If you run out of them, come again, alright?"

With a nod, you went to the bathroom and changed. You washed your hands and walked back to where Sister Leanne was, to tell her about your condition.

Cause in truth, you felt tired, pained and exhausted. Your face lit up upon seeing her.

"May we speak?"

"Not now. Discipline calls me."

Quirking a brow you looked at her while watching a trail of nuns behind her. One with a slender guava stick, another with a bucket in water, and the other with a rope.

"W-What's going on?"

"Come and see."

You weren't the only one that followed them. A group of nuns giggled, as they whispered hushed secrets to eachother.

Your fingers wrapped around your cross while following the rest, like a dutiful sheep.

To your surprise another nun was held as her sleeve was slit open, on both arms. The woman cried for mercy and soon she was pushed forward before the circle of nuns and Miguel that showed up alarmed.

"You have sinned!"

Sister Leanne begun with a commanding voice. even though Miguel was the Father, he had little to do with the nun's management.

Your mother figure pulled the crying woman's arm, showing a bruising a couple of inches away from her elbow.

"This woman has corrupted her body, the temple of Jesus Christ! With contraceptives!"

A collective round of gasps were heard through the nuns. Contraceptives, same as sex were the highest forms of faults within the Parish. Specially within the convent.

"Not only you poison your body with mundane pieces, but break your vows, just to obey your flesh's whims." Leanne spat with venom.

The poor woman was tied up against a post. Her habit was torn in the back, to expose her temporary unmarred, milky white skin. She begged for forgiveness as water was doused over her.

The first hit made you look away and cover your mouth, a sudden fear rose in the back of your throat.

His need of waiting was more than reasonable now.

This was one the motives why Miguel hadn't taken you yet. And seeing the poor woman writhe in pain and beg for her life, made you remind him of his words.

You had been so neck deep in wanting him that had forgotten completely about the consequences of your forbidden meetings.

The women's cries and pleas were muffled by the aggressive whistle the stick did everytime it swung to strike down and mark her over and over.

Your gaze locked with Miguel's briefly. His eyes said it all.

Now you understand?

As quickly as your eyes met him, you tore your gaze away. Too afraid of the possible lash out for simply looking at him.

A surge of cramps and the newly reached levels of stress had you folding over. His face fell upon the pain in yours. The supplies in your hands were self explanatory. Periods weren't something new to him, after all he took care of the women under his unit in the factory cause the rest was too stupid and scared to do something.

And as much as he wanted to approach and see if you were alright, he didn't want the situation to be mistaken for something else and draw unnecessary attention towards you both.

He felt a coward, but it also fueled his hate for the life he chose in order to save himself.

Once the punishment was finished, the woman was untied and taken to the infirmary. Sister Leanne looked at you

"What is you wanted to talk to me about?"

"My period."

"What about it?" Her voice accused with a frown, still on edge.

"I just asked Sister Danielle for my supplies." She heaved, relieved.

"Good. Good." She sighed and rubbed her face, "I want you to know that I'm not proud of the things I must do. But someone has to."

"I know."

"Please don't ever dare to betray me that way, okay?"

The stung in your chest just bloomed deeper with guiltiness.

What if I'm already doing it?

You nodded, gaining a hug from the woman that raised you, in order to ground herself from the sudden rage that took over her emotional panel of control.

Would you whip me too? Would you make me bleed?

"Go rest. I'll get you some food, alright?"

---

It had been days since either of you approached each other. The raw display of consequences of a failed secret affair was the culprit of the distance that grew wider and wider between the both.

It was a forceful reminder of what laid ahead if you ever got caught. Miguel knew how much the new Mother Superior loved you.

He always heard at dinner with the higher ranks the endless stories about you as a teenager. Precocious and daring. Nothing alike to the tame and demure woman he had already tasted twice.

Would she hate him for corrupting her little and perfect sheep? Absolutely. Maybe would whip him too if she could.

The thought alone made him chuckle.

The silence on both ends made him reflect in so many things he thought long forgotten.

A child's random laugh during a baptizing had brought to life that buried yearn. The way the little human stared at him with a toothless grin on their face sent his heart into a frenzy.

In fact, he always reminisced in the many families that paraded proudly on church. Displaying their affection, laughs and others that only echoed in the solitude of his residence outside the Parish.

There was none waiting for him, no little human screeching in happiness upon hid arrival, and no partner to share his daily adventures on his modest job. There wasn't nothing like that for him.

Just endless hours of praying, visiting the sick, bible studies, hypocritical speeches on how people act and behave with those around him and how to not succumb into the temptation, like he did.

He was the biggest hypocrite under the heavenly roof and everyone adored him. Congratulated and asked for tips on how to be more like him.

If he could, he'd say drink a beer every day and fuck a lovely woman whenever time allowed. But instead his mouth spilled the most ridiculous things such as keep your mind focused and away from trouble.

But he wanted trouble. He wanted that trouble to mewl and writhe underneath. He wanted that trouble to squeeze him to death as he came inside. And definitely he wanted that trouble to swell with his child.

Ten years in this lie had been more than enough for him. War had been long gone, everyone had moved on in the city. Mostly had families. But he...

His hand pinched the bridge of his nose.

Secularisation wasn't an option, since his name was already in many churches and abbeys and running away would imply to spend most of the savings he had done so far. Priest life paid shit, but if this neverending lie had taught him something, was to be more financially wise. And thanks to that, he could afford a home somewhere in the rural areas, away from prying eyes and judging glares.

He had enough of the white rectangle around his neck and the stupid golden ring on his finger dictating how to live his life. Even though God had granted him his wish of having a simple life, he didn't want it anymore.

He wanted it his way. And as entitled and selfish as the thought was, he deserved a forever break from his duties. He knew what he wanted.

He knew what he needed. And he needed you. He missed you. He wanted you to be his problem.

At first he thought it was the lack of contact and other people to talk to, but seeing you so scared back at the public whipping and your need to know more about the world, only reinforced his decision into making you his.

He could take you see places and explain things if you wanted. He could take you anywhere you wanted to. He could please you the times he saw fit without the fear of someone spying or you getting hurt by those that pledged a servitude oath.

Miguel knew what the nuns did to those that ended up pregnant and he wanted you safe. He had seen the underlying longing of knowledge in your eyes and see what was beyond those sacred walls.

Her period

His brain soared alive with the idea.

How many days had gone since you got it? Twelve days?

And if there was something he knew by heart is a woman's cycle. Ironically he used that knowledge to avoid getting his hookups pregnant, even if he used a condom. And now, he was using it for the opposite.

In two days you'd be ovulating. And you had returned early from a sudden trip due to sickness.

He didn't know if to thank God or his luck for such delicious coincidence.

But what if she decides to stay?

No. You wouldn't. You couldn't be so blind to do such thing. His plan was foolproof.

With the gears turning, he set his plan into motion.

----

Taglist:

@tango-juice @miaasmf @migueloharastruelove @slight-darkness @zombiesurf @oharasfilipinawife @thedevax @eepiebeepie @vsplanet @smartyren @m4dyy @keenspeachy @deputy-videogamer @the-colourfull-bean @killjoy-nightshadow @whos-writing-stuff @tomalymme @x0tw0d57 @huniedeux @ange-grayson @cubecube555 @riuichiii @plumplum2099

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Heathens #priest au #priest miguel #Spotify

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Astarion, Allusion to Astarion's Past (Sexual Assult/Dissociation)

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: Holy shit! It's done! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and reblogged and just...everything. I cannot tell you how much it means to be to know this story has resonated with so many people. I don't have any plans to continue this as a larger story (I still haven't played the game); however, if anyone would like to send requests for small one-shots or headcanons involving Astarion and this Asexual!Tav, feel free to send me an ask.

Also, sorry if I didn't tag you. There were a lot of request, so I stuck to those who asked on the previous chapter.

And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!!

Word Count: 5.2K

You didn’t sleep that night, but what else did you expect?

For hours you simply lay in the dark, staring at the window. The patter of rain was the only source of sound besides your own breathing. Even that small comfort didn’t last as the storm passed leaving behind cloud covered silence.

No tears came to you.  What had you to grieve over? Everything you felt had been a product of your imagination. You knew that.

Still, it ached.  There was a throbbing in your throat you couldn’t swallow down and a constant pressure behind your eyes.  You almost wished you would cry, just to get it out of your system. If you could have a nice little breakdown, there was a chance you could get over this. It would be the slap in the face you needed to accept reality. Maybe then you’d stop doing this to yourself.

All the same, it stayed there, pressing heavy on your chest until the sun teased the edges of the clouds beaconing morning.

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. You couldn’t lie and wallow the rest of the day. You had things to do, places to be, worms to destroy. The sooner you had something else to occupy your thoughts the better.

With an effort you pulled yourself out of bed and slowly made your way to the dining room.

You were a bit surprised to see everybody already up. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale were already seated with plates of half eaten food in front of them.  Two seats were still empty, settings ready and untouched. A quick look around confirmed the rest, Astarion had yet to make an appearance.

“Morning everyone,” you said, trying your best to be cheerful as you sat yourself between Gale and Wyll.  

You could feel all their eyes on you, no doubt noticing the dark circles under yours.

“Morning,” Gale greeted. “I trust you slept well.”

He let out a small yelp of pain.

You looked up to catch him glaring at Shadowheart as she shot him a disapproving look.

You frowned. Did she just kick him?

“I mean, ah, did you lie comfortably?” he amended.

“Seriously?” Karlach questioned.

You swore you could feel the heat of Gale’s blush, as he grumbled into his toast. “Damn it, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” you asked.

“We just hoped you spent the rest of the night…pleasantly,” Wyll tried, and ultimately failed.

Your stomach flipped, as harsh, dreadful realization washed over you.  Yes, of course they would.

“You don’t look well,” Lae’zel noted. “After all his boasting, I had thought Astarion would leave his partners more satisfied.”

You didn’t say anything, deciding to take a bite of egg as an excuse. Now would be a great time for the ground to open and swallow you into the hells. Gods knew it would be an improvement.

“She’s right,” Shadowheart said, sounding a little annoyed to admit it. “You do look tired and not the good kind. Did something happen?”

“Did he hurt you,” Wyll said, his brow furrowing in sudden concern.

“What?! No!” you said quickly. “Nothing happened.”

“How’d you mean nothing happened?” Karlach put in. “We all saw what we saw. How could anyone turn down all of that?”

Fresh embarrassment washed over you, making you wish you could erase the last twenty-four hours and crawl into the nearest, deepest hole. You had spent the whole night worried about what Astarion would make of your vision, you had all but forgotten you had shared that part of yourself with all of your companions. Of course they would have their own interpretations.

“It wasn’t like that.”

A quick look around the table gave away the doubtful thoughts of all.  

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm. They weren’t going to believe you if you were emotional about this.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. As I said, nothing happened. We talked, and it became clear that we just want different things. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Now are we done or are you all going to keep chattering on like a bunch of fishwives?”

The silence at the table was palpable as everyone exchanged looks.

Alright, maybe being calm wasn't a realistic expectation, but you hadn’t lied. Sure, there were some details you neglected to share, but that really was the long and the short of it. He hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had you. It just didn’t work out.

The plain truth of it settled in your heart carving out a hollow space for it to lay in.

Gale was the first to act, clearing his throat. “Fair enough, the matter is closed. Please, accept our apology. With such an intimate group as ours, it’s sometimes easy to forget that one’s personal matters can be well and truly personal.”

He looked at the rest of the group, each nodding in agreement to various degrees of reluctancy.

“Just for the record though, if you need someone to knock some sense into that pretty boy’s head, you just need to ask,” Karlach offered. 

Despite yourself, you had to smile. “I’ll think about it.”

You then turned to Gale, who met you with kind eyes and a comforting smile. You let yourself be warmed by it, even if you still felt a little guilty for snapping. He really did understand. It was easy for heartbreak to recognize heartbreak.

“Thank you,” you murmured. 

To your surprise, his first instinct wasn’t to reach for words, but rather your hand as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. 

“Anytime.” 

“Good morning everyone. Gossiping without me?”

You whipped your head around to find Astarion standing near the head of the table, a sardonic smile on his lips and a hard glare in his eyes.  No doubt he had heard everything. 

Everybody shifted in their seats, glancing between you and Astarion. You averted your gaze, focusing hard on the table in front of you. 

Gale’s hand still rested over yours. Whatever comfort it had given you, faded as something akin to panic flooded your veins. In the next second, you rose from your chair, scraping it hard against the floor in your hurry. 

“I’ve still got some packing to do,” you said. “Be back down in a few.” 

Coward’s way out? Yes, but after the night you had, you figured you were entitled to it. 

Keeping your head down, you slipped past Astarion, feeling him watch you as you made your way back up the stairs. 

If you had lingered a moment, you might have caught the flash of hurt in his eyes. You might have noticed how his clothes were more rumpled than usual. You might even have seen his hand twitch with the instinct to reach for yours. But you didn’t see, and anything that might have happened disappeared in a brush of air. 

-----------------------

The next several days carried on in much the same way.  Not as torturous as that first morning, but still a drudge of avoidance and awkward silences. 

In your defense, Astarion seemed just as keen to keep his distance. Where he used to be your preverbal shadow, filling the hours of travel with idle teasing and conversation, now he kept to the back, his mouth decidedly shut. 

The others caught on and seemed determined to make up the difference. Karlach, Shadowheart and Wyll especially made a point to walk alongside you, telling stories and jokes in an attempt to make you smile. 

You did your best. They meant well, but in some ways they only served to emphasize the absence of another. 

Gale, on the other hand, had the foresight to try a different approach. He made it clear he didn’t expect you to talk, but always made sure you had the best spot by the fire and a little extra of whatever he made for the camp. You had to wonder if Tara had provided a similar comfort to him after Mystra. It was obvious he had the practice. 

Even Lae’zel offered to help you train it off, something about how your, “objectively weak body had left the rest of you vulnerable to attack”. A part of you felt the insult, but the gesture was appreciated. 

Honestly, all of this care was starting to make you feel guilty. None of them were giving Astarion the same courtesy. He wasn’t being shunted exactly, but the message was loud and clear; they were on your side. 

This was met by him taking a step back from the late night conversations. His interactions with the others were kept short and lacked his usual humorous flare. He took his shifts on watch alone and he spent even more time either roaming the forest or in his tent. 

The only person he consistently spoke to was Gale, which should have raised some alarm bells on their own, but you never caught what they were discussing. All you knew was Astarion never appeared especially pleased while Gale gave a look of someone begging the gods for patience. 

All of this was your fault. You just wanted things to go back to normal. Even if you couldn’t be with Astarion the way you imagined, you still valued his friendship.  If this kept up, there was a chance he might decide to leave all together. An olive branch was needed, something to signal you didn’t hold a grudge or expect anything more. 

The answer came to you one early evening as you took note of his haggard looks and less than graceful steps out of camp.  He hadn’t fed on you in a week and there was only so much deer and boar could do. 

You considered simply offering up your neck, but that felt too forward. Besides, you weren’t sure if you were ready to have him that close. The only other solution you could think of was to bleed yourself somehow. 

This proved more difficult than you first imagined. Astarion seemed to have an instinct for where to bite, balancing enough blood for himself without causing any permanent damage. You couldn’t boast the same. It took more than one cut to fill an empty goblet with what you hoped to be the right amount of blood. You’d ask Shadowheart to heal you properly later. Hopefully she’d accept a poorly executed knife trick as an excuse. 

You wrapped your wrist as best you could and, watching to make sure the others weren’t looking, slipped into Astarion’s tent. 

You were immediately hit with the scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy. A sense of calm washed over you at the familiar combination, settling comfortably in your lungs as you took in the space.

 A single candle remained lit, allowing just enough light for you to appreciate the rich purple and red fabrics lining the walls as well as the sheer number of pillows littering the floor. How he managed to pack so many was a mystery you doubt you would ever solve. The whole set up was down right ornate, but considering this was Astarion you were talking about, you shouldn’t have been surprised. 

It was only then you realized you’d never been inside before. He’d invited you more than once, but you’d always turned him down preferring to keep your feeding session in the open air. You had known, even then, any closer would give the wrong impression; all for naught it seemed.

You pushed the thought aside, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. There had to be some place you could put the goblet where he wouldn’t knock it over. Why did he have to keep a side table outside the tent?

A shuffle came from just outside. Focusing your ears, you caught the tread of boots on grass transition to the nearly silent carpet just outside the tent flap. You turned using those handful of extra seconds to school your features into something passively innocent as Astarion ducked inside.

His whole body froze, his arm holding the fabric above his head as his eyes went wide. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. 

You took advantage of his momentary shock to examine his appearance more closely. He looked…well, tired and more than a little confused. No blood marked his shirt or his lips. His pants appeared to have taken a tear or two from a bramble bush. Even his hair looked just a bit disheveled in a way so unlike himself.  

“No luck hunting?” you said, unable to keep the concern out of your voice. 

He stared, as if your words were coming from somewhere far away and required extra time to reach his ears.

“I’ve had better,” he finally said. 

You nodded in understanding, shifting awkwardly as your eyes went to the goblet in your hands. 

“Here,” you offered. “No offense, but you look like you could use it.”

He gave a tight smile. “I’d say no offense taken, but this is me we’re talking about.” All the same, he took the cup, sniffing it cautiously. He blinked hard, his brows furrowing as he stuck his nose further into the cup and took a deep whiff. 

“Is this yours?” he asked. 

You shrugged, holding up your bandaged wrist. “Whose else would it be?”

His mouth parted slightly as if to say something before closing it again. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his tone oddly serious. 

“I know,” you assured. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead released a breath of a laugh, allowing whatever tension he had formed in those last few seconds to fall from his shoulders. 

“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but it seems I can’t help it with you.” 

Before you could ask him what exactly he meant, he raised the goblet to his lips and drank. 

The effect was instantaneous. Your blood met his tongue and any control he had slipped away. His pupils dilated to those of a predator as he guzzled the whole thing down in two deep swallows. He let out a gasp of air before returning to the cup, licking the sides so not to waste a drop. A low hum of bliss came from deep in his chest as he savored the rest, allowing his fingers to scrap the bottom before bringing it back to his mouth. 

The sight should have left you horrified, but in truth, it was encouraging. Things would be different, but you could at least provide him this. 

“Do you need more?” you asked. 

This time his laugh was loud and genuine as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before licking the remains; yet another thing you found inexplicably endearing. He really was just a big cat sometimes. 

“Dangerous thing to offer me in this state, darling,” he said. “Luckily for you, I found a nice burrow of rabbits yesterday.” 

Once satisfied there was truly nothing left, he set the goblet down on the ground before turning his attention to your wrist. 

“Let me see,” he said, reaching out a hand. 

“It’s fine,” you promised. “I’ll get Shadowheart to look at it later.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that, give it here.”

Knowing there was no fighting him, you relented, allowing him to unwrap the bandages.  

He visibly winced as he examined the litter of harsh scratches along your skin. “What did you use? A rusty spoon?” 

“I had trouble finding a good vein,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. You hadn’t thought it looked that bad. 

“Oh is that all? And here I thought you’d lost an argument with a displacer beast.” 

You pressed your lips into an annoyed line, but Astarion was already digging around his pack, coming back with a salve and potion of healing.  

“Drink this.”

You shook your head, ignoring the pleasant little flutter in your chest at the gesture. “I told you, I’ll just ask Shadowheart.”

“Oh this isn’t just for you,” he said, dryly. “Do you think I want her believing you’d willingly butcher yourself just to give me a proper meal? Neither of us would hear the end of it.” 

A small flush of embarrassment worked up your neck. He was right, of course. The party really hadn’t been subtle in their disapproval. It was the reason you had tried for discretion. 

Without further protest you accepted the potion. 

This seemed to appease him as he quickly got to work on applying the salve. 

He had bought it not long after you had come to your little feeding arrangement. It helped to sooth small cuts and bruises while minimizing the threat of scars. He had initially offered to provide…other services to relieve the pain, but you had declined. This was the compromise. You’d offered to do it yourself, but he insisted, claiming it was the least he could do. In truth, it was all very…transactional. 

This felt different. The hesitation he so often held, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, was gone. His touch was gentle, his expression focused and his body oddly relaxed. It didn’t feel like an obligation, but an act of kindness, one he was more than willing to give. 

Any nerves that remained slipped away.  You could find a way to live with this. Certainly it was more than others had given you in the past. 

Once he was done, he pulled fresh bandages from his bag and began redressing your wounds with decidedly more precision than you had. 

“I am glad you’re here,” he said, breaking the silence. “I was hoping we could talk.”

A sharp sting of anxiety pressed itself into your skin. 

“Oh?” 

He nodded, tying off the bandage. “I think it’s important.”

You swallowed. The instinct to run pulled at your feet, but you managed to keep it in check. You owed him that much. 

“Well, I’m here so…let’s talk.”

He breathed out an audible sigh of relief, raising his hands up as he took a small step back.

“Just stand there a moment. Don’t move.”

He spun around, rummaging through various bags before letting out a cry of triumph. He stepped back holding what looked to be a violin string glowing with magical golden light. 

Your head tilted to the side as your eyes narrowed. “Is that…?”

“Part of the violin, yes,” he admitted. “Bit of a story. Short version, Gale was able to extract one of the strings. It shouldn’t cause any permanent damage to the instrument, as far as I know.” 

You raised a doubtful eyebrow. “And Gale just let you pluck this from his tent did he?”

Astarion shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I, ah, may have had some trouble understanding how it worked and…inquired as to his assistance.”

“You asked Gale for help?” you asked, astonished.

“Don’t make me relive the experience,” he lamented. “He told me the strings themselves have different magical properties in order to create the effect you demonstrated the other night. Apparently this one alone compels people to tell the truth.” 

He then took the string and carefully wrapped it around his wrist before handing the other half to you. 

Your eyes widened, glancing between him and the offered cord. “What are you doing?”

“Leveling the playing field,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head, taking a step back. “You don’t have to do that.”

His lips curved into a self deprecating smile. “I think I do though. I haven’t been honest with you and…while that’s not exactly unique to you, the regret I have is. So you see, it really is a selfish action. If I’m to be free of this, I need to know for certain you understand that what I say next is the truth…all of it.” 

Your mouth opened to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The expression on his face was one you had never seen before. While he did his best to hide under his usual indifferent airs, his eyes gave him away. You’d never seen them so open and unsure. 

Slowly, you took the other end, feeling a familiar tingle spread through your fingers. 

“Alright,” you said, cautiously. “What’s your favorite color?”

Flashes of red shot across your vision, moonlit skies and a pair of eyes you only just caught to be your own before the image settled on something else entirely.

“Pink,” Astarion blurted.

Your eyebrows shot up as the start of a delighted smile spread across your face.

 “And orange,” he amended quickly, “and dark blue and…honestly just the color of the sky at sunrise.” He pouted as if annoyed at the words that escaped his lips, but he shook it off. “Alright, you had your little test run. Give me something harder.” 

You considered a moment. It was very tempting to continue on with some more embarrassing questions, but that wasn’t the purpose of all of this. Best to start at the beginning. 

“What did you think of me when we first met?” you asked.

He grimaced, guilt evident not just through his averted gaze but the tug of the string between you. “You were a target,” he admitted. “At best a convenient meat shield. You were just so…open, ready to trust. Manipulating you would be easy.”

You took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain between your ribs. You should have expected as much. He wasn’t exactly subtle. 

“And that’s what you were trying to do the other night, manipulate me?”

“Yes.”

Another stab of guilt, a flash of your own back walking out of a candle lit room as a hand that was not your own reached hopelessly outward. 

Your actual jaw clenched. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Then what?!” you snapped. “Hells bells Astarion, do you even like me?”

“You drive me to acts of insanity,” he said indignantly, raising up the glowing cord around his wrist as proof. “Do you think I’d willing subject myself to days of Gale’s passive aggressive commentary on my personal life for just anyone? Of course I like you. Gods below!”

You stared, unable to deny the waves of exasperation mixed with the sound of your own laughter as heard through another’s ears. Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in the chest of the body opposite you making your mind spin, as you tried to re-establish the divide. 

“Why did you ask me to come to you?” you asked. “What were you hoping to gain?”

Astarion took a deep breath. It was only then you noticed how tightly he was holding the chord linking you.

“I was hoping to get back on track,” he said, slowly. “I had a plan when we met. A nice simple plan. Seduce you, bed you, manipulate your emotions so you’d never turn on me. It was easy…instinctive.” 

He met your eyes and for the first time, you felt him fight against the images threatening to breach the gap between you. You caught the barest flashes, memories of half forgotten faces passing by one after another. Shame and vile brushed the edges of your mind, and quickly faded as Astarion regained control. 

“But, you seemed immune to my attempts,” he continued. “I could tell you enjoyed my attentions, but you never asked for more. My simple plan that had worked on countless targets, couldn’t get off the ground. And yet, you still gave me blood, protection…trust. I couldn’t understand it. I found myself wanting to know more, to know you. To anticipate what you would ultimately ask in exchange. And then that night, you showed me exactly what it was you desired.”

Something slipped through. You saw yourself in the center of the tavern with darkness surrounding you. A rise of fear entered your heart as you heard your name called from familiar lips. And then, the world shifted, light came back into the world and it was…beautiful. 

“I thought I finally understood you,” he said. “A poor repressed urchin who had been hurt one too many times. All that was required was a more gentle touch. I could provide that. It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

He paused, his expression softening. “And then you had to do the most inconsiderate thing and surprise me all over again: you asked for my heart, in exchange for yours. I should have been elated. It meant my plan had worked, not the way I intended, but you had fallen for it…for me. The trouble was, I hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I would fall for you.”

You stared, unable to say anything as a well of emotion threatened to burst from you. It was as if someone pulled a bow across your chest, creating a resonating sound that moved in harmony with your very soul. 

It was true, all of it. 

By some miracle, you wrestled back control over your lungs and tongue. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I didn’t know how,” he admitted. “Even if I had, would you have believed me?”

You averted your gaze. It was answer enough. 

“It’s alright,” he said, offering a wry smile. “Smart really. I wouldn’t have believed me either.” 

You nodded in appreciation, your mind still reeling from everything he had just confessed. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked. 

You frowned, unable to shake a question that had been stirring for some time. 

“Do you even want to have sex with me?”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline, his mouth falling open. “I’m standing here baring my soul to you and that’s what you ask?”

“You asked me what I was thinking,” you defended. “Besides, it’s a relevant question.” 

He looked like he wanted to argue, but let it go just as quickly with a huff. 

“Well?” you prompted. 

He made a series of non-commital noises, his mouth half forming words before being wrenched in another direction. The chord between you glowed brighter, twisting just a little deeper into his skin.

“I…don’t really know,” he said, slightly stilted, as if surprised by his own answer. “To be clear, I do find you physically enticing. In that aspect at least, I’d hardly qualify bedding you a chore, but... I spent two centuries using lust and desire to lure people back to him. In that time I developed the habit of taking myself out of my body, looking at it as if it were happening to somebody else.  Even in those rare times it could be pleasurable, I still walked away feeling nothing but disgust and loathing. I don’t want those feelings associated with you. At the same time, I can’t help thinking that if we were together, it would be different. But, don’t take that to mean I expect it. Like I said, I don’t even know if I want it. Honestly, before you said it, I didn’t know saying no was an option.”

You took all of that in, your heart clenching as the full weight of what Cazador did to him settled on your mind.  Red filed your vision, the sympathetic ache replaced with a rush of fury.  He was a dead man. One way or another, you would see Cazador bloodied by the end of all of this. But as quickly as it had come you let the emotion pass. This wasn’t about him.  You wouldn’t let him intrude any more on this moment. 

“What do you want from me then?” you asked, softly. 

To your relief, something familiar and teasing flashed across his face. 

“I thought I’d made that obvious.”

With his free hand, he cupped your cheek allowing his thumb to lightly caress your skin. His scarlet eyes burned not with lust, but something warmer and just as desperate. 

“You showed me the chorus of your heart. How could anyone look upon that and not desire it? The trouble is, the price you asked. I…I don’t know how to pay it. I don’t know how to be with someone that way, but I’m willing to learn. I want it all. I want you to have it all.” 

The connection between you burned hot in your hand, but you couldn’t let it go. It felt so warm, so real. It filled every empty part of you to the point of bursting and still you wanted more. You were insatiable. 

Astarion looked just as lost as you, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions for you to name. His body began to tremble. It was becoming too much. 

In an instant you pulled his hand away, unwrapping the chord from around his wrist and tossing it aside.

He took a sudden deep breath as if coming up for air after being submerged in deep water. 

“Shit,” he cursed, gulping for air. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand down his face as he tried to calm. 

Your eyes widened as you caught the angry marks left behind on his wrist. 

“Are you alright?”

He blinked hard as if clearing spots from his vision. “I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting that is all.” He turned his focus to you with a bewildered expression. “Does it always feel like that?”

“That’s admittedly a first for me,” you confessed. You reached out your hand, glancing at his injury. “Let me see.”

He followed your gaze frowning, as if surprised to note the welts forming on his wrist. Still he stepped closer allowing you to examine them without protest. 

“Does it hurt?” you asked. 

He shook his head. “Sort of numb, honestly, tingly.”

You nodded, swallowing hard to keep the rise of guilt and fear at bay. It didn’t help. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly. 

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t think a little thing like this is going to scare me off. I meant what I said. I intend to give you your fill.”

“You don’t have to give it all at once,” you promised. “I can be patient when it counts.” 

A sly smile turned at his lips. “I almost hope you won’t. You’re not the only one who's starving.”

Heat spread up your neck, something Astarion undoubtedly caught as he gave a low laugh. 

“Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what happens next?” he asked. 

“I’m…not sure,” you admitted. “Nobody else has ever given me the chance to figure that out.” 

He nodded slowly, before taking a small step back. His head tilted as if to examine you from every angle. A question started to form on your tongue just as the start of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly straightened before placing a hand on his chest and regarded you with a deep bow. 

You grinned, matching him with a curtsy of your own. 

He then offered his hand, which you easily took before he pulled you just a little closer. Your other hand found his shoulder while his pressed lightly on your waist. And then you did what was only natural. You danced. 

It wasn’t anything elaborate. There was no fire or sparks of magic. You simply moved together to a song of your own imagination. It stirred in your chest, the barest pluck of a melody, but it was yours and his; the promise of a symphony to come.

Tag List:

@ambrolyer, @cassiecasluciluce, @tamwritesstuff, @hallowedandhungry, @mangomonk, @amefuyuu, @righteous-scamp, @starved-kitten, @tinystarfishgalaxy, @twinkliker3000, @unrestrictedbyreality, @screechingphantommaker, @becksynthetic, @black-sapphic, @dicenete, @isharaneith, @sarcasticlittlebook, @catsandskyrimcafe, @sora-o-kaku, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ka-du-trur, @baldursgateslittlestar, @rakilein

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #asexual #asexual!reader #asexual!tav #bard!tav #baldur's gate iii #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie

[lionizingheathen]

Just for you - S.B.

Best friend!Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Giving Sirius a handjob in front of friends

Another part of the FWB

Warnings: Smut, Friends with benefits, handjob, teasing

Hope your enjoy, smut under the cut.

Parties could be incredibly boring before you and Sirius had begun your arrangement, but now… now you just wanted to think of ways to make him squirm, and it only took you a moment of sitting beside him, looking at his side profile to figure it out.  You slid your hand onto his thigh under the table, making him jump and look over at you.  You smirked, raising an eyebrow, and he, as if unknowingly, reached down and unbuttoned his pants, allowing you to slip your hand in and grip his cock.  He was already hard, fuck.

"What're you doing?" Sirius asked, and you felt yourself shiver at how breathy and low his tone was as he leaned forward, dropping his jacket over his lap.

"Nothing."

"Fuck, Y/N... Everyone's here, someone could see-."  You cut him off with a laugh, shaking your head to dispel any attention that might've been brought your way by Sirius not being able to control himself.  You rubbed your thumb over the slit of his cock, making him swallow a groan.

"No one'll know unless you do something to tip them off."  You moved your hand faster, shivering at the way that the veins pressed inton your skin, at the way that his hips snapped up ever so slightly into your hand, unable to control himself. "You're so hard baby..."  You mumurmed, and he clenched his jaw, giving you an almost pleading look."You know what that dress does to me... Fuck, that's why I said it was only for me." He said, his voice almost pathetically whiny as you pumped his cock faster, giving him a grin.  It was for him, of course it was.  He had to know that on some level, right?

"I only wore it for you." You reminded him, and Sirius rolled his eyes, chewing on his lip as you continued your brutal pace.  His fingers dug into the wood of the table as he took deep breaths, looking flushed.

"Of course you did... I don't believe you."  He mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.  Who else would you be trying to impress at a party with friends.  He was the only one.

"C'mon, Sirius..."  You were careful to glance around before leaning in, nipping at his earlobe and pulling away fast, feeling his cock throb in your hand.  "I think I benefit from riling you up, don't I?" You purred, knowing your teasing tone was only going to push him closer to the edge.  The veins in his neck were popping as he tried to control himself, like he was willing himself back from the edge.  You couldn't have that.

"Fuck..." He sighed, his head hanging back on his chair as he leaned in a way that gave you better access.  God, this was perfect, he was perfect down to the last detail.

"I wish I was riding your cock right now..."  You whispered, and his jaw dropped as your pace increased once again, making his whole body tense.  You knew that was a fantasy of his, you two hadn't gotten that far in your exploration yet, despite both of you obviously craving it.

"We've... we've never done anything like that-."  You cut him off, leaning into his ear.  That was what you wanted, though.  That was what you needed from him.

"I want you to cum inside of me, Black.  I want you to fill me up."  You said, and he gulped, breaking a bit, his breathy moans breaking through his facade of calmness as his nails dug into your arm.

"Shit, Y/N."  He whined, and you smirked, knowing he was moments away from finishing.  You wanted him to, every ounce of you craved that feeling, it inflated your ego to all holy hell.

"I wanna feel you fucking destroy me, I wanna limp away from you."  You said, and that was what did it, you could tell from the look on his face, the way he squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a quiet groan, barely restraining himself from fucking himself into your hand.  It was hot, hotter than anything you two had done yet.

"You will..."  The damn broke, and he shivered his release into your hand, coating your palm as he continued to jerk and whimper, eventually falling flat agianst his chair, chest all but heaving.  You cast a cleaning charm, pulling your hand away.   You glanced around, half expecting the room to be staring at both of you, but no one seemed to notice.  Good.

"Good job... such a good job..."  You prasied, and it took him a moment to come back to his mind, buttoning his pants and sitting up to look at you.

"Holy fuck.  That was... That was hot, Y/N."  He sighed, and you grinned, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek, no different from how you always had.  No different from how you greeted everyone else.

"See?  No one saw us."  You promised, and his gaze darkened, a smirk playing on his lips as he eyed you, swallowing down the rest of his firewhiskey.

"Meet me in the bathroom.  Ten minutes, or I'm dragging you in by your hair."  He murmured, and you clenched your thighs, feeling the ache there.  Fuck.

"I'll see you there, Black."  You said, keeping your tone steady, and he nodded, straightening out his clothing before leaning down over you, making you flush.

"You'd better."  He said, and then he was gone, and you, a moment later, were following.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter x yn #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x yn #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius orion black #reader insert #hp smut #hp fanfiction #hp fanfic #marauders #marauders smut #marauders fluff #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #marauders x reader

[patentedsun]

Rapid fire Fairy Tail rewatch thoughts. May or May not expand upon each point later on.

THIS IS LONG AS HELL BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW WHEN TO SHUT UP.

for reference, I've reached tartaros so far. I am aware of the canon happenings after that tho.

The female cast is so good idc what anyone says obviously the fanservice is awful BUT I will say, in the earlier arcs, it actually felt decently balanced because of Gray's whole stripping shtick + Natsu's cunty vest wasn't particularly modest either LOL.

Erza is such a wonderful character. I've seen comments that she goes downhill like 100yq onwards but. Um. 100yq characterisation.... that's a whole post of its own.

I never expected to like Lucy so much. idc that it takes her like 200 episodes to win a fight solo because when she FINALLY DOES IT WAS THE BEST MOMENT OF THE SERIES BY FAR. characters who's defining traits r kindness and compassion <33

Interesting how Lucy is the traditional shounen protag (underdog, skills develop overtime) because the rest of team Natsu sans Wendy were all like ... already kinda OP established mages even at the beginning.

I know there are debates ab who really is the protag and imo the narrative skews towards Natsu more BUT. it's bizarre how unexplored he is for a main character. Like yes he is my favourite character other than Lucy but his inner psyche is barely explored it's so weird. He doesn't really have a character arc either??? I'll expand on this more once I finish post tartaros (lolll not looking forward to that) and once again it seems like he's completely regressed from what I've seen of 100yq.

I fucking love all the ships.

I don't agree with comments that Natsu can't be traditionally romantic. Like, I definitely don't think he would ever have the natural inclination to be that way as a part of his character on its own. BUT considering iconic rainbow sakura moment I fully believe he would do whatever it is that would make Lucy happy. And if that includes red roses and candlelit dinners he would absolutely try his best.

Nalu moments r seriously. so good.

I totally see why Juvia stans don't like gruvia. But unfortunately I like them. And I've slightly rewritten them in my head so that juvia doesn't get completely flanderized LOL.

the Natsu Erza Gray sibling relationship goes soooo hard.

Just in general there's something beautiful about the way Fairy Tail handles it's numerous platonic and romantic relationships. Nothing feels secondary yk. Everything is given its due time (except maybe NALU goddammit).

I LOVE THAT FEMALE CHARACTERS HAVE DEEP COMPLEX RELATIONSHIPS IRRELEVANT TO THE MALE CAST. Lucy and Levy, Lucy and Yukino, whatever combination between Erza Lucy Wendy, Lucy Flare, Wendy Shelia, Wendy Carla etc

Even when the relationship involves a man in some kind of way like eg Lucy Cana or Erza Kagura it's still not like... in a bad way. The friendship itself is still there, it's just that the inciting incident tends to involve a dude.

Speaking of Lucy having so many deep female friendships is a big reason why I like Nalu so much lol. Like I literally do not care ab ships in media but fairy tail.... just has that something...

Love how often everyone changes outfits.

This show desperately needed a mini arc somewhere with just Natsu Lucy Happy going on a low stake job, where Natsu actually opens up ab his emotions and his relationship with Igneel.

Needed more Natsu and Igneel flashbacks in general.

Wendy triple combo abandonment issues are not talked ab enough holy shit. Grandeeny, Mystogan and then her entire guild???!

Lucy's relationship with her dad was objectively so well written. I skipped starry skies arc sorry the pacing was destroying me so I can't speak on that. But everything else was just BEAUTIFUL.

The fact that she returns to him just to tell at him. The fact that he comes to her with money problems and she STILL stands her ground. The fact that it's HIM who has to better himself and earn HER forgiveness.

Even after it seems like they're on ok terms, Lucy mentions in tenrou that they don't keep in contact, which is soo... realistic...

and then his death... Shout-out to Natsu who actually is emotionally quite mature (as the author himself seems to have forgotten) and dealt with it wonderfully. He gave Lucy her space, he let her vent, he stopped Happy from interfering too much. + Lucy being conflicted ab it and clearly grieving what could have been instead of what was. sighhh. .

idc ab no deaths but I do wish they didn't do fake out deaths as often. Because when actual loss sticks, it's done super well imo. Ultear, Aquarius, I haven't hit this part yet but Igneel... (yes I'm ignoring 100yq)

the episodic fillers r INCREDIBLE.

Rogue and Frosch are so special to me.

Wish they expanded on Jellal and Meredy's relationship a bit more it seems quite wholesome.

I love Virgo.

Really hate the muted colours Ft2014 onwards, but I do like that Lucy's hair became blonde and not yellow.

Pacing 2014 onwards was GOD AWFUL. I WAS SO SAD because I think the story beats in eclipse arc is actually super good but it was DRAGGED OUT SO MUCH nothing had the impact it should've.

Snow fairy, FT, Masayume chasing you will never be forgotten.

Lucy underutilizes Gemini so much it drives me mad. They were terrifying under Angel so like... cmon...

idc what anyone says GMG and edolas were top tier.

Edolas Natsu X Edolas Lucy... yes

objectively speaking gajeel is a top tier character too

Someone pointed out that Natsu didn't reallyyy hang out with anyone other than Happy pre canon and it changed my life. Every time I notice him and Lucy casually hanging out now I start screaming.

HAPPY IS SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER IDC. His edolas character arc was incredible, his relationship with Lucy is just as (if not more) fleshed out as his one with Natsu and that's part of what makes them such a great trio.

Whenever he goes LUUSSHIEEE . my heart ...

OST top tier no notes

the writing was actually so tight up until GMG part 2

I generally don't care ab the powerscaling issues but laxus v jura... no.

The anime kinda fucks up his face a lot but manga Natsu was genuinely soooo adorable in every single panel (once again IGNORING 100YQ).

Wendy also great character arc.

Sting's whole design is SO GOOD and ten years too early. the fur lined vest, the crop top, the one dangly earring, the scar, the loose fitting pants, good God now that's a Look.

Seriously I love Nalu so much...

That's all for now folks. If you want me to expand upon anything just lmk bec believe it or not all of this is a summary.

#fairy tail #natsu #natsu dragneel #natsu appreciation #lucy heartfilia #nalu #pro nalu #seriously i can write an essay ab each of these points #lucy heartfilia appreciation

[wannaeatramyeon]

Vin Jin with Unhinged F!Reader

Unhinged F!Reader: Gun Park | Goo Kim | Samuel Seo | Samuel Seo Part 2 | James Lee/DG | Jinyoung Park | Eli Jang | Tom Lee | Ryuhei Kuroda | Eugene

Enough with the games.

"Come on, let me see."

Even in his half dead state, Vin's hands remain glued to his eyes. You grab both wrists and pry them off effortlessly.

Of course the bastard's eyes are closed. You should have seen that coming.

"I'm gonna make you puke blood all night!"

Your eyebrows lift in amusement. Well well, this boy still has a surprising amount of bite.

"In your current state?" The snap of bone fills the air, closely followed by screams. "See? How do you expect to do anything to me."

"Y-you're crazy, you b-bitch!"

Vin's wrists juts out at an unnatural, opposing angle.

.

.

Your hand hovers uncertainly.

You're not sure if fighting someone in.. what was that again? Cheongliang? Gang? Fam? would be worth your time. This guy's reputation seems bigger than his actual feats.

So what if he's killed somebody. Hasn't everyone?

But rumours of his monstrous strength had crept through the grapevine, along with his penchant for wearing tinted sunglasses.

Seriously, what a freak. You smile. Well, you're a freak too.

You make up your mind, scribbling down his name.

.

.

Is it worse to be proven right or wrong? Probably the former in this case.

The judo moves and grappling are predictable from the onset. You don't receive so much as a scratch.

It's a bit too easy to be fun. However, his foul-mouthed insults and antics delights you.

The way this guy seems to pull countless pairs of sunglasses and goggles to instantly replace the one you shatter keeps your interest.

And it's been so long since anyone has managed to do that.

You shriek gleefully and your demonic grin stretches a little more each time Vin places a new pair upon his face.

How far does this rabbit hole go?

Fuck.

How was he supposed to know the moment he stepped out of the bathroom you would be there.

You're relentless. Vin has been cornered from the get-go and hates anyone, especially some random psychotic bitch, have the upper hand.

He considers leaving the glasses off to fight you. But proud as he is, it's plain to see the vast skill gap even without the handicap.

The first hit you landed proved that much.

It's one less humiliation to not show his deformity.

.

.

No longer having the use of his hands, the angry shouts and threats soon devolve to pathetic whimpers and pleading.

"Please... Don't look..."

That's more like it.

Your index and middle finger, taking on a V shape, start to lightly press on both eyelids. Digging a bit more with each passing second.

"How about I give you an out? Either you open your eyes, or I pluck them out to see what the fuss is about."

"You fucking..."

Your talons finally breaks skin, dots of crimson appearing from the punctures.

He gives in.

Opening his eyes, Vin looks at you like how everyone else looks at you. Abject terror and burning hatred. You wouldn't have it any other way.

Except... His eyes?!

"Holy shit, that's hot as fuck."

The terror and hatred melts into something else.

"What?"

"I said, you little freakshow, that your eyes are sexy as hell."

Oh you really do like this one. Those eyes would make such a pretty trophy.

Although-

You wonder about having those eyes reflect his soul breaking as you destroy him. Seeing them swim with emotion as you irreparably wreck him.

To you, victory is meaningless without ruining them physically, mentally, completely. This one still has too much life.

Perhaps a rematch is in order instead.

#lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #lookism fic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism x reader #vin jin #vin jin x reader #jin hobin #lookism unhinged series #lookism oc #wannaeatramyeon

[yazzydream]

Just had a funny thought.

So we know Toji's appearance and murder of Riko was unexpected for everyone. (2006, 12 years ago)

Besides the TVA and Q, it didn't look like anyone else was going for Amanai. So, Kenjaku was probably going to wait another 500 years before their plan was going to start.

At this point they'd already gotten Kaori Itadori's Antigravity System and given birth to Yuji, though, which is interesting. (2003, 15 years ago) So, maybe Yuuji really wasn't initially meant to serve a greater purpose. Housing of Sukuna or otherwise... Or maybe Yuji was a happy coincidental prototype? An experimental run through? Or maybe Yuuji is just singularly unique.

Anyway, what I thought was funny is that after Toji killed Amanai, Kenjaku was probably sweating and rushing to find the Prison Realm. (2012, 6 years ago) Like, "Holy shit I've gotta take advantage of this opportunity! 💦"

But yeah, it probably moved up their plans by A LOT.

And then you got Geto with his Cursed Manipulation. He has a falling out with Gojo, then Gojo kills him and leaves his body ripe for the picking. (2017, 1 year ago) And since the merger didn't happen, Tengen is more Curse than human, it's like, everything perfectly fell into place.

Actually, sure Toji fucked up a lot of shit for everyone in the current timeline, but you can also see it as a good thing. This specific group of individuals (Satoru Gojo, Yuji Itadori) wouldn't be around in 500 years to disrupt Kenjaku's plans otherwise.

The Star Plasma Vessel, Six Eyes, and Tengen are fated. Fate is a tangible concept that exists in JJK. Which throws Toji's role in an interesting light...

Kenjaku says Toji's presence destroyed their destinies. But if there is a higher power in JJK... the one who bestows "Heavenly Restriction"... I'd say it's actually the opposite. Toji's actions may've saved the greater human race.

TL;DR Toji Fushiguro's murder of Riko Amanai is part of Heaven's greater plan to counteract Kenjaku's plan.

#jjk meta #jjk spoilers #let's try to be more bloggy shall we #jujutsu Kaisen #jjk manga #kenjaku #riko amanai #toji fushiguro #my jjk #here i was just thinking it was funny that kenny was running around looking for the pr #and my wordy ass brain ended it on toji being a crucial wheel in fate's tapestry #why #in fact all those with Heavenly Restriction may be pieces with a greater role in destiny #wow that's so terrible lmao

[silenceinternalmonologue]

do you wish to talk about naruto… like I’d love to hear your thoughts on sasuke’s characterization…

oh my god someone asked me about sasuke's characterization. holy shit my time has come. i hope you don't regret this because i'm about to be very annoying

it's such a broad question i didn't rly know where to start so i think i'm going to go through some popular misconceptions people have on various aspects of his character uhhhh

loyalty: not to be all 'sasuke never did anything wrong' but he didn't really do anything wrong. leaving the village and his friends behind was out of a belief that in order to avenge his clan he had to be far more powerful than he was as part of team 7. he was manipulated by itachi (love him tho) and orochimaru who deliberately exploited him as a very young child. he was also given absolutely no support to counteract these influences. kakashi tried to give him a speech, but it was far too little too late

sasuke coped with the loss of his clan by telling himself that being alone made him strong, and being around people made him weak-- because if he had bonds, he would have something he was afraid of losing. and to go after itachi he would have to have nothing to lose. it's not that he didn't care about his friends: it's that he cared so much that he knew they would get in the way of his goal

it's worth remembering that goal was the only reason he had survived up until that point, as he says when facing itachi at the hotel. i have a headcanon that he would have become suicidal if he hadn't fixated so hard on this goal and lived for it, and think itachi also thought this which is why he insisted on getting sasuke to hate him and have something to live for

friendships: a lot of people say sasuke doesn't care about his friends, mostly because he has tried to kill them (specifically naruto and sakura, also karin and he left the rest of taka/hebi behind). again, he does care, to a painful extent. during the fight against gaara's ichibi form, he says 'i won't let anyone else close to me die'. from their very first mission in land of waves, he's extremely protective of team 7 despite convincing himself that caring about people again will be his downfall

although he's already depressed and traumatized by the time he joins team 7, he grows fond of them very quickly and protects them with his life. he also indulges in their shenanigans even though he usually acts like he's above them... but he's just a child too after all. same with taka/hebi: sasuke is supposedly colder than ever by this point, but he helps his teammates and builds a dynamic with them despite always keeping them at arms length

yeah basically people mistake sasuke's quiet exterior and snarky comments for him not caring and use his darkest moments as proof of that. but he's just very introverted, naturally sarcastic and afraid of connecting with people due to his trauma and when he does snap it's because of how much he cares, not because he's a crazy violent murderer

morality: for the vast majority of the show, sasuke is vehemently against killing anyone and even ensures that no taka/hebi members kill either. kage summit arc sasuke is at his very lowest point: konoha had led him to kill the only family he had left after killing an entire clan and traumatizing him for life. it makes sense for him to have a breaking point

it's also worth remembering that here everyone (except naruto) had given up on him and were aiming to kill him. i'm not going to go as far as to say that sasuke fought out of self-defense, but it is clear that he was fighting not in his right mind

sasuke was right to kill danzo, who orchestrated the genocide of all of his people and allowed him to kill his brother who was also a victim of that system. he was also right to want to kill the elders who were similarly responsible. the only goal of his i don't agree with is wanting to destroy konoha which he states at final valley but i'm honestly not even sure how much his heart was in this. i think he just wanted naruto to fight him but that's a topic for another post

basically sasuke did nothing wrong umm anyways on to lighter (?) topics

personality: there's a common trend in this fandom that sasuke's quiet and tough exterior is entirely an act and that he's secretly very soft. i do agree that he's silly (dumb sense of humor similar to naruto's in a lot of ways) and obviously very caring, but i also think that he's genuinely very pragmatic, calculated, and introverted. i think that in a relationship though he would have moments of vulnerability, he still wouldn't be a desperate or submissive type. he shows affection by doing concrete things for other people and helping them even when not asked

his cold demeanor is partially a defense mechanism since he doesn't trust people after the massacre. but it's also because he doesn't place value in pleasantries or hierarchy, and (lovingly) has supbar social skills.

emotional intelligence: sasuke is more emotionally intelligent than people think he is. i think it's easy to see this from the few monologues we get from him, where he's very aware of his own emotions. i think his main issue is putting things into words and communicating his feelings, not that he doesn't understand them

bonus - sexuality: vaguely related to the last point??? but mostly silly, i think because of this emotional intelligence sasuke figured out he was gay pretty early. i mean... he never shows even feigned interest in any women, and no straight person dresses like that COME ON. i think he felt some guilt due to being the last uchiha with a duty to revive the bloodline, but that he also didn't imagine himself living long enough to have a relationship so it didn't really concern him

tldr sasuke is an extremely caring character who loves deeply and desires justice for those people. he's very mentally ill, mainly as a result of a government-sanctioned genocide against his people and being given absolutely no resources to cope with that. he's also incredibly gay. and i love him so mmuch god please put me down before i write anymore

#sasuke #sasuke uchiha #naruto #naruto meta #sasuke did nothing wrong #if sasuke has 1 apologist left it's me #asks #thanks for the ask op i'm so sorry for delivering more than you bargained for

[pocketgalaxies]

miss ma'am would you like to expand some thoughts on all of the imodna stuff from this past ep? i always love your takes on them :)

hello yes!!

ok starting with imogen. i can't believe it's basically canon that girl's been kinda in love with laudna for so long. like i knew it but i didn't Know it and now i Know it and don't know what to Do with it except be like oh babe. i'm so happy for you for making that move. and the speed at which imogen steered the conversation to that point as soon as they were alone is so endearing, the way she was about to overflow with the need to ask that question. also marisha being like "this wasn't supposed to happen to my dead girl" and laura going "i know :( i know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" bc sometimes the character wants what the character wants and this character wanted this so so so so so so so so bad

LAUDNA ON THE OTHER HAND.

i've seen a few other ppl say this and i certainly agree that laudna's reaction to being asked "can i kiss you" and what happened afterward is very ambiguous and i'm so curious what the Hell fuck is going on in her head now

what does it mean when someone asks if they can kiss you and you just say "ALRIGHT." like it's not an inconvenience and it wouldn't bother you so sure they can do what they want, you don't mind. it's not a "yes i want you to do that" it's a "yes i won't be upset if you do that" and those are different!! it could easily be either "i was not expecting this holy shit what do i do oh my god wait what okay wait just let her do it first and figure it out later" because laudna as we all know is romantically emotionally stunted. but also it could be "imogen wants this and what imogen wants i will give to her no matter what it is and this is an easy thing to give" which is,hmm,,,,unhealthy

and then immediately launching into like. i think i need you to be with me in order to be a good person. i think i can't separate from you without destroying myself or hating myself. and imogen going "you're not a bad person" and laudna kissing her again like she needs to Consume that in order to believe it

i'm kinda swinging between multiple interpretations of this, the first being like. laudna recognizing that imogen is showing interest and commitment to her but also coming from such a harrowing experience and needing to put that on the table first. "i don't think you realize that i'm unstable. i'm a bad person. i'm unlovable because you're the only thing keeping me from hurting everyone else." she doesn't explicitly say it but it'd be easy to see the implication of "are you sure you want this, want me?" and imogen saying with so much quiet conviction "you're not a bad person you're not a bad person" is why she kissed her again, because she needed to hear it and hearing that imogen still wants her despite her warnings makes her more confident to initiate a lil kiss or two by herself too

but there are so many other routes to take it. did she recognize that kissing is what imogen wants and therefore kissed her only as a way to say thank you for calling me a good person, almost like a reward, a purely transactional thing on laudna's part? did she not enjoy the first kiss but feel like she needed to try again to maybe convince herself to like it because imogen is so nice and wonderful and amazing that she should like it, what if not liking it makes her an even worse person? did she kiss her because she didn't know what to say in response because she didn't believe imogen's words at all and it was an easy distraction? did she just want to kiss her again so bad so she just did it?

idk maybe we're all reading way too much into this dkfjskdfjs but i think any option could be believable and i have things i like and dislike about each theory, and i love the fact that it wasn't a straightforward "omg yes please kiss me we're dating now!" bc it's so chewy and juicy and fun. if laura and marisha aren't on the next episode of 4-sided dive i MIGHT fly to LA and storm the set

anyway regardless of what's going on in laudna's head, i think it's safe to say that it's not a great sign of her general State Of Mental Health when she was kissed by her bestest bestie and STILL bor'dor and delilah were what she wanted to talk about. i think you'd have to be in a Very bad place for a reunion and a kiss with your fav person to not distract you, at least for a little bit, from talking about that stuff. how imodna's relationship changes moving forward (if at all) will be v interesting to see and i'm so so ssosososo os osos oso so os excited.

oh also before i end this post, just want to acknowledge that i'm assuming laura and marisha discussed it during the break and decided to keep it a secret from the rest of the party. i'm SURE we'll see some interesting discussions about that moving forward, both from laudna and imogen when they're alone + the rest of the party once they find out. i'm not thinking too hard about that decision, i think there are countless mundane and harmless reasons to keep it a secret for now, so i'm just gonna look forward to future eps!!

#hope this was an okay read! it's v long. as always. #thanks for asking anon i'm flattered you want to hear my thoughts #anonymous #ask #answered #critical role #cr3 #cr spoilers #cr meta #nova shh #imogen temult #laudna cr #ship: imodna

[rayshippouuchiha]

... Chisaki Kai unironically pays for quirkless feet pics. None of the precepts bring it up and the rest of the yakuza grunts never know. (Precepts think its weird but also don't wanna die)

Oh my GODS what if

Izuku somehow looses his shoes during the raid and like, Chisaki SEES and looses his shit because holy fuck this guy should be quirkless. Everyone questions how he could recognize on sight (could lead to Izuku having to pay for medical supplies during middle school and You Know What fuck yea hes going to monitize his quriklessness, or just, Chisaki has mad attention to detail)

By the gods, you asked and now we shall all receive:

For all of the different, and often times horrifying, ways Izuku has imagined his side job finally being discovered, he can honestly say this scenario wasn't the one he saw sitting at the top of the charts.

Here, of course, being in the middle of the street, mid-villain fight.

Or if he's being more accurate about the parts that are really sticking out to him: mid-villain fight in front of his homeroom teacher, a half dozen of his classmates, numerous other pro heroes and police officers, and the little girl strapped to his back.

Izuku had always kind of imagined he'd forget to close his laptop or his mom would walk in on him setting up a shoot one day despite him being meticulous about making sure she's out of the house and well away before he ever even thinks about pulling out his gear.

He'd only ever briefly entertained, admittedly nonsensical and wildly sleep-deprived, thoughts about this particular scenario happening.

And yet, here he is.

Izuku's honestly not sure how, exactly, he'd managed to lose his shoes in the battle. Hell, up until roughly ten seconds ago he hadn't really even noticed all that much or been all that inclined to care.

All he'd been focused on was protecting Eri and kicking Overhaul into the next calendar year. Most everything else, including his lost shoes and destroyed socks, hadn't seemed anywhere near as urgent as those two issues.

But he's absolutely noticing and caring now.

Izuku is absolutely going to hunt down whichever one of his ancestors it was who pissed off a luck kami or caused someone to curse their entire family line to "live in interesting times" and set their gravestone on fire.

Because divine retribution or an ancient curse has to be the reason why he's in this position.

"It is you, isn't it, Yamikumo?" Overhaul rasps in his direction, expression twisted in what looks a lot like some horrible form of almost starstruck confusion.

"Aa-hh," Izuku sputters out a broken sound, mind still not fully willing to accept what Overhaul saying that name to him has to mean.

"It has to be," Overhaul keeps on, eyes fever bright. "You're even wearing the white polish I sent you."

That statement's enough to snap Izuku's mind back into focus. Because that means ,,,

"Mr. Clean!?" Izuku squawks out the username of one of his best and most loyal customers.

And, much to his ever-mounting horror, Overhauls' face practically lights up.

"Yes!" The villain practically crows despite the fact that Izuku still has him pinned to the ground, with one bare heel digging into his collar bone.

But then, Izuku can't help but think just a bit hysterically, given all that's just been revealed, he's probably enjoying that part of this entire situation.

"I'd recognize those beautiful toes of yours anywhere," Overhaul keeps going, one clearly broken and disfigured hand coming up to pet the top of Izuku's foot gently. "But how? I don't understand, Yamikumo. You're supposed to be quir-"

Izuku knows exactly what Overhaul is about to announce so he does the only rational thing he can do in this situation.

He shifts his weight and brings his other bare foot down heel first against Overhaul's temple.

The villain collapses the rest of the way onto the rubble beneath him, finally, blessedly, unconscious.

"Problem Child," Aizawa-sensei's voice from so close behind him, and not to mention the obvious confusion in it, sends a shaft of pure dread straight down Izuku's spine. "What the actual fuck?"

By this point, Izuku thinks as the edges of his vision begin to blacken, passing out is basically self-defense.

#The Toes Show #BnHA #MHA #RayRambles #Drabble #BnHA Drabble

[criscura]

The heart of the story

SPOILERS for the garou fight (i know it's been a while but still) because holy fucking SHIT. i am shaking. Bigass post about the symbolism of Saitama's suit, Genos' core, and the deconstruction going on in the whole fight.

I saw a coloring of this panel,

and the positioning/negative space of the hole in Saitama's cape combined with the wind-up of Garou's punch made it fucking click and--jjdjalsk;djL;KFJ;lkdjlLKJlkdj

I thought it was super weird that pretty early on in this arc, Saitama's cape got a hole punched through it and the way he was positioned kept on emphasizing it. Like....Saitama's cape is already emblematic of who he is. It flutters around to accent what he's doing like an exclamation point, when he's protecting someone it curls around them like it's an extension of his intentions, when he walks in it flourishes before him like an announcement. As much as the gloves are a symbol of his power, I feel like his cape is...hope? It's what he is to the people he comes to save? Or maybe it's the selfless part of what he considers a hero to be--so if the gloves are "you're stronger than anyone else," the cape is "so you can be there for everyone else." I don't know, I have to think about it a little more, but that's the sense I get. It's also, y'know--a cape is something you wear to defend yourself from bad weather or the cold or just to cover up. It's protection.

So it felt REALLY BAD that there was a big hole torn into it, right dead-smack in the middle of Saitama's chest, like it was a target. A big foreboding "Look out! Your defenses are down! Watch out behind you!" But what the fuck can get at Saitama, right? Garou wasn't going to defeat him. You can't hurt him. He doesn't have to watch his back, that's kind of his whole problem.

But. Bu t f= djkj;sd. jFUCKING. HE'S NOT. HE'S NOT INVULNERABLE. IT WASN'T HIS CHEST IT WAS FORESHADOWING

And that was fucking it. Garou ripped out Saitama's heart when he ripped out Genos', and it destroyed him. Saitama lost himself. He ACTUALLY lost himself

THAT'S NOT FUCKING SAITAMA. That's what he's always been capable of becoming, but that's NOT him. As the fight goes on, he gets progressively more terrifying and inhuman--featureless face, blacked or whited out eyes, an outline of a body--as he starts attacking more relentlessly. We're watching him forget the humanity he's been feeling less and less in touch with, as he gets consumed by fury and grief.

That's not even mentioning that he loses almost all of his suit--that thing that defines him, that's most important to who he is and who he wants to be. All at once Garou hits him with something that completely destroys that symbol of who he is (hohoHO doesn't that sound familiar)--

everything except the ripped up remnants of his glove, the part that symbolizes his strength, that's left to clutch onto Genos' core,

which Saitama protected and cradled to his heart as if it was his own?? like it was a lifeline?? like it was more important than his home planet, that he almost destroyed in a blind rage???

Like.....yes, it was a handicap as in "i'll only use one hand to fight you," but I don't think it's THAT much of an exaggeration to say it was also a handicap in that it stopped Saitama from going absolutely fucking bonkers and destroying everything. I think that WAS his heart. That was his last tether to humanity and empathy and hope. It was his fucking companion cube.

(I don't think it's a coincidence that in that panel where Saitama's curling his whole body around the core while being buried in the ground--and isn't THAT a fucking metaphor--that he looks legitimately pissed off. Garou's kick was on a direct trajectory to Genos' core. And isn't there something to be said for Saitama letting an opponent hit his head to protect it? A thing he's deeply self-conscious about normally, and a move that we've seen Genos pull more than once?)

I've said before that Genos does the hard emotional work for Saitama when he can't do it for himself (getting excited, angry, or sad for him; cheering him on; and all around taking the weight off Saitama to respond emotionally to things so that, at the very least, he doesn't have to feel guilty about not feeling anything). In return, Saitama is a stable rock for Genos to hold onto because, in his volatile world where everything is changing and can be taken away from him at any moment, Saitama can't. And like...

Saitama did fail in that he was too late. He didn't save him before the worst happened. But what little Saitama had left of him, was entirely devoted to Genos. He turned himself into an indestructible case for everything Genos was. And as much as Saitama carried Genos through that fight, again, Genos carried him. Again, Saitama couldn't relate--he was too far out of touch with his humanity to act like he still had it. But he could still cling to Genos, and Genos could feel it for him.

Genos' heart replaced the heart that Garou broke--because when he killed Genos, Genos wasn't the one to feel the pain of his own loss. It wasn't his core that shattered. It was Saitama's. The target on his back hit exactly where it warned it would.

And now like--I do need to add a byline that this sucks for Genos. All around. He was used, thrown away, and Saitama failed to get to him on time. Now he's also the ONLY one who remembers what happened. He is already so fucking burdened, this is too much for one guy. I'm legitimately worried about what this is going to do to him.

But also? Mythology is my shit and melodramatic shenanigans are my JAM, and what aspect of this isn't mythological? What ISN'T such an obvious allegory after you say it out loud that it feels almost silly? How many levels does this work on? A wayward knight sacrificed a virgin heart in battle in hopes of tempting a dragon out of its cave to defeat it, and got SO much more than he bargained for? God took away the one you love, so you fight heaven and hell to get them back? Your heart is my heart, you live on in me and I in you, even after either of us are gone? I can't--I can't even come up with other examples because there are SO MANY. I just.

GOSH, even structurally, as the fight goes on, the panels become more sparse and less detailed. We lose background and landscape--often because it's actually demolished--until it's only action lines scratched over a flat black or white, to the point where we get graphs like the paper they're drawn on has been so ripped up that all we see are the guidelines on the desk underneath it. Things are taken apart to an atomic level.

And meanwhile, we're watching these two characters argue over their most BASIC concepts. What are you fighting for? Who are you, really? What are you, after you've lost everything? What drives you? What scares you? What's your hope, and your worst fear? Are you human? Does it matter?

Why are you, you?

It's falling apart that's interrupted only by fantastic destruction that's as beautiful as it is terrible...and it doesn't fucking STOP until both characters have been so thoroughly torn down to their most painful, elemental pieces that they're fading to dust or erased fully from existence. This entire FIGHT is a deconstruction--of story, of characters, of the manga itself.

I don't mind the time travel bit because this is--this is Jjust--this is SUCH A FUCKING GOOD ILLUSTRATION of what makes this manga WORK because it fucking--it goes out on a limb and says, "what happens if we do the thing we can't come back from, what does that do to the characters, let's bring it to the absolute enD JDJALSDK;JF" and00asdljs;dlkj

I'm losing it. I'm fucking LOSEINjalkj LOSING IT. Like. Saitama's the pillar of the story. Everything revolves around him. Genos is the catalyst, Saitama's the plot. Genos is the machina, Saitama's the deus ex. Genos is the heart, Saitama's the soul. I've said this a lot. but fucking....

If a cape is protection from the elements, Saitama's cape is a symbol of the hope he brings, AND there was a massive hole in Saitama's cape for so much of this arc, there was both a nagging sense that he wouldn't be able to magically solve shit like he usually can and that he had some weak point that was wide open for an attack. That weak point ended up being Genos.

The only way to break Saitama was to break his fucking heart...and then everything else broke around him.

((And....jllaksdjls of course, of COURSE I have a fucking bias and you KNOW I'm looking at this from a shipping lens too, and like.....I don't......Genos has Saitama's heart, and Saitama has his. They share it. It's one in the same. When one can't carry it, the other carries it for him. Ilm.kjl i"m. I'M.ASD...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA))

#one punch man #one punch #opm #genos #saitama #garou #genosai #saigenos #precious robot baby #egg on legs #talk dirty to me #i am #literally #vibrating #THIS STILL ISN'T EVEN ALL MY EMOTIONS ABOUT THIS I DON'T KNOW HOW #THERE'S SO FUCKING MUCH GOING ON NNNNNN AJLA;SKJDF;ALSDKJ #please forgive me i fjfffucking KEYSMASHED this out at 2:30 IN THE MORNING it's not 4:18 I NEED TO GO GET MY LAUNDRY #GOSH THIS IS STILL PROBABLY SO GARBGLED AJLKJAL;JLAKSDJ KSJD;LASK

[chaifootsteps]

Holy shit this is the first time I've seen Viv talk like that about a former friend.

Vivzie's preppy Jay speedpaint is based on a design and color palette that Kyra created to be part of the Jay Janimash, a project HONORING Viv's character. Kyra helped with Die Young!

What on earth happened that she's talking like that about someone she was close to? I'm assuming something batshit insane happened because there's no way this is over some light drama right? Or over criticism? Do we know what's that about?

My God, she sounds fucking deranged. "I can destroy her" this sounds like someone who has a batman style contingency plan to ruin any of her current friends in case they decide to distance themselves from her.

I must admit I used to be on the fence about what people say about her personality but this is the behavior of someone who thinks she's God's gift to indie animation whose work is superior to anything anyone else has ever created and fuck everyone who doesn't worship the ground she stands on.

Gee, Viv. Every single person that's your friend decides to leave and ends up disagreeing with you? Guess what's the fucking common denominator, you psycho.

I don't know how much I'm allowed to say about what happened with Kyra, but it was extremely high school level stuff. Think "X is upset at Y because Y sat with Z at lunch," and at some point Vivzie did the same "Everyone is talking shit about me and out to get me" routine that she does with everyone.

It definitely doesn't justify her weird Rogues Gallery-esque "I can destroy her" speech.

#Anonymous #vivziepop critical #vivziepop #actual blog post

[l1tw1ck]

Lights, Camera, Action!

You're rich old guy with a favorite 19 y/o camboy

FTM!Heizou x Top!Male Reader

Warnings: Fucking Machine, Filming, Daddy Kink, Drinking, Unconsciousness

Part 2

words: 1,042

"Hi everyone!" Heizou waves to the camera.

Viewers quickly flood in, the view count changes from 0 to 1,000 in seconds.

"What am I doing today?" Heizou reads out a question in chat. "I got a gift from a viewer so I think I'll try out!"

"He was very kind and bought me a fuck machine," He moves back on his bed and pulls his shorts down. He spreads his legs open. "You can see how excited I am to try it out!"

He picks up the package that contained the gift and opens it.

"Oh, there's a note." He picks up a small piece of paper. "It says...'I got this custom made' and there's a winky face."

Heizou thinks for a moment then red flushes across his cheeks.

"Let's- let's see what it looks like." Heizou takes out the machine. "Holy shit." Heizou looks at the size and thickness of the dildo.

He shows it to the camera. "He's huge! I'm getting nervous!"

The chat urges Heizou to hurry up.

"Okay okay!" He stops marveling at your dick size and gets the machine set up.

"I'm going to change the camera set up, bear with me." Heizou moves the camera so it's facing his pussy. "Don't worry, I have a second camera for my face." Heizou gets the other camera and turns it on.

He edits the stream so the camera recordings are half and half.

"Everything look good?" He asks.

The chat spams 'yes'.

"Okay." Heizou pours some lube on the toy then slowly puts it inside himself. He bites his lip as he takes it in.

He exhales deeply as he gets it all in. "It goes from one to ten....Uh, let's start with one." He presses a button on the remote.

"Mm~" Heizou rolls his head back, even at the lowest it felt good. "It's good- fuck~"

You Donated 20,000 Mora: Wishing you had the real thing?

"Hehe~" Heizou laughs. "It's too bad I can't. Would love to have my virginity taken away by a dick like this~" He's explicitly stated in the past that he wouldn't meet up with viewers, unfortunately for you and everyone else.

Everyone in chat is surprised to find out he's a virgin.

"I don't have time, mm~ for dating. Just school, work, and this."

"Guess you guys are happy to find that out, huh?" Heizou giggles.

You Donated 60,000 Mora: Raise it to 10

Heizou looks up at the donation and his eyes widen. "Since you bought it for me...okay." He brings the speed to 10.

He gasps. "Fu- fu-" He barely manages to get a word out as the machine destroys his tight little pussy.

"Uh~ com- fuck~" Heizou arches his back, squirting all over the bed and the floor. Luckily the camera wasn't hit.

He moans, grabbing for the remote but failing. "T- too mu- much~" His eyes roll to the back of his head.

You Donated 70,000 Mora: Don't stop

"Pl- ple~" Heizou comes again, this orgasm more powerful than the last. "Ca- can't-"

The chat floods with more people telling him not to stop.

"Fuck- uhn~" Heizou gives up, letting the machine fuck his brains out. He reaches down to play with his tdick, urging another orgasm.

He eventually passes out from the stimulation with the machine still on. He streamed for 2 hours before he turned everything off.

His stream had the highest views and donations he's ever had.

──────────────────

You paid Heizou lots of mora for a private video call. He thought you would just watch him masturbate but oh Archons was he mistaken.

He was worried you were some creepy old man but to him, your surprisingly attractive. He could tell you were an older man but you were a hot older man.

"Hi Mr. Big Spender!" Heizou grins. It was his nickname for you. "How are you?"

"Great now that I'm talking to you." You wink. "What did you think about the gift I got you?"

Heizou flushes red from remembering how he passed out on stream. "It was amazing! I think I'll use it more in my personal time."

You smirk. "Glad you like it baby."

Heizou smiles, a fan of the pet name. "What do you want me to do...daddy?"

Heizou calling you daddy made your dick twitch in pleasure. "How about we celebrate you reaching your goals? Got any alcohol?"

"Ya know I'm 19 right?" He laughs. "But you're lucky, a friend actually gave me a bottle of champagne."

"Why don't you go get it, I'll grab some wine for myself."

Heizou nods and leaves to get the alcohol. He wasn't really uncomfortable with the fact that you were asking him to drink, it's not like you could do anything to him behind a screen, right?

Right?

--

Heizou gets drunk pretty fast while you're still mostly sober. It's the perfect time to execute the plan.

"Hey honey, what city do you live in?" You start with a basic question.

"Inazuma city.." Heizou replies, thinking nothing of it.

"Yeah? I live there too."

"Really? You should come visit me!" He smiles drunkenly.

That was way too easy. "You don't mind a guy like me coming over?"

"Noo! A guy like you~ has a huuuuge dick~" Heizou shakes his head.

"What's your address sweetheart?"

Heizou gives you his address immediately, completely oblivious to what he did wrong.

"Good boy, daddy will come see you soon."

"When soon?"

"In a few days, daddy's got work."

Heizou pouts. "Okay.."

"What are you gonna do when you come?" He asks.

"What do you think?"

"Gonna fuck my pussy?" He looks at you sweetly.

"Yeah baby, I'm gonna fuck that sweet little pussy of yours and pump it full of my cum."

Heizou shakes his head, eyes widening. "You can't! What if I get pregnant?!"

You know it's pointless to argue so you just go along with it. "Okay, I won't. I promise." You laugh.

Heizou sighs in relief. "Gonna use a condom, right?"

"Yeah, sure." You grin.

Of course you were lying, there was no way you were gonna use a condom let alone pull out. You were gonna make sure Heizou's pussy was completely filled with your cum.

#wicks🕯works #ftm nsft #genshin heizou #heizou x male reader #heizou smut #shikanoin heizou #genshin shikanoin #genshin impact #genshin smut #top male reader #male reader #🕯Heizou #🕯️heizou #🕯️Genshin

[spikedsoul]

maid's worst nightmare - ch 28

"i'll just start the chapter today at work just to have a little something done" i said. anyway here's the wholeass chapter

previous chapters

@sovereign-of-succ

There wasn't much news about the Mushroom Kingdom, as it turned out. There was one article about how Bowser attacked and destroyed the castle - again - and how, again, there were no fatalities. You sighed heavily as you scrolled through it, scanning for any indication of how long it might take to get the castle rebuilt. Most of the article focused on how the attack seemed more vicious than usual, given the scale of the destruction, and finally at the very end of it there was one sentence that suggested it might take a few weeks. 

That struck you as a rather quick time frame to rebuild a whole castle but maybe the toads were just that good? Who knew. It also struck you that you didn't seem to be missing - the article had claimed everyone was accounted for.

As you sat there frowning at the screen, some of the articles off to the side refreshed. You'd done a good job at ignoring them until your eyes were inevitably drawn by the movement. To your surprise, there seemed to be a follow up article posted just yesterday.

MISSING: PRINCESS PEACH'S NEW HIRE

Your heart leapt in your chest; that had to be you. As far as you knew, you were the most recently hired maid, and the only one missing. Peach had realized you were gone! Surely she was itching to try and find you! Too bad you didn't have a way to contact her to let her know where you were.

As quickly as you could, you opened the article to practically speed read it. Your breath caught in your lungs at a certain part.

In an unprecedented turn of events, one of Princess Peach's handmaidens has come up missing after the attack on the castle. The handmaid, who Princess Peach asked us to keep anonymous for privacy reasons, was hired only a few months ago when she moved to the Mushroom Kingdom. Without a body, rumors are flying, but the most prevalent one is that for the first time in his life, King Bowser has kidnapped someone other than the princess to hold hostage. Others speculate she just up and left, but the princess is adamant that this woman wouldn't do such a thing. Currently, Princess Peach is trying to get in contact with King Bowser to confirm if he knows anything or not. She expects to hear from Prince Peasley of the Beanbean Kingdom tomorrow when they return from a trip to King Bowser's castle.

Holy shit, this was definitely about you. She knew, and she was trying to get you back, but it seemed like she didn't have a direct way to contact Bowser or else surely the process would have been sped up. Maybe you'd be back with her before the week was out… or at least there might be plans to be back with her then.

The sting of imminent tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you quickly found yourself fanning your face with a hand in hopes too keep the tears from falling; if you cried, you'd end up ruining the makeup Wendy did for you. It was hard, though; after Bowser suggesting she wouldn't care, or couldn't justify bringing up home, it was a massive relief to know that she had noticed your absence and was going to do her best to find you.

You hoped she didn't think you were secretly dead somewhere. That would suck pretty badly.

At the very least, the article mentioned your body was missing so it seemed like she was holding out hope that you were, indeed, just stolen.

You couldn't wait to go home.

After a few minutes of fanning yourself to keep your tears in your eyes, you successfully didn't cry. Now Wendy wouldn't throw a fit if she happened to see you again before the day was out - and honestly, you were counting that as a big win. But now that you had the news, you knew you still had a bit of time, so what better way to spend it than doing a little research into the princess you served? Just to see what others thought about her.

The first link you ended up clicking on was just a glowing review of her: aptly named with a bubbly personality that would rival the sun itself, a woman who'd never abandon those in her care and despite being stolen time and again, always went back home and immediately dealt with issues that had arisen in the time she was gone. She was a fierce competitor when it came to games, a reputable kicker of ass, but she was never unsportsmanlike. It even seemed like in times of need, she would help other kingdoms that reached out to her - whether or not they were allies.

Although it was reassuring to read such a wonderful thing about her, you were careful not to let yourself get swept away in the excitement. You recognized the author as a toad that often wrote articles in the newspaper and figured he might be just a little biased.

The next article you looked into seemed less positive. You didn't recognize the author, but according to them, the personality that Peach presented was just a cover for how she was behind closed doors. The article alleged that she would abandon people when they traveled, and coerced her subjects into pretending they loved her. The author seemed to think that Peach was the sort to throw people under the bus if it meant she stayed out of trouble. Needless to say, you weren't totally convinced.

The third article you delved into seemed to be a solid in between of the other two: this one made some valid points that Peach genuinely tried to do her best for her people, but as a monarch she was sometimes put in tough spots and had to make decisions that others didn't agree with. You were much more willing to believe that, if you were honest, and after finding out that she had realized your absence, you didn't think you'd blame her if she couldn't negotiate a fair trade for you.

You were just a handmaiden, after all. Perhaps appreciated by her, but definitely not someone important.

You sighed and rolled your shoulders as you sat up a little; during your readings, you'd started to hunch over, which was a bad habit you weren't totally sure how to fix. But whatever! The important thing was that overall, it seemed like opinions of Princess Peach were positive and that you had actually made a good choice when you applied for your position. That genuinely helped ease most of your lingering anxieties and you knew that even if it took another week for negotiations to finish, you'd be able to wait more patiently.

Just as you stood up to wrap up your little research session, you heard the door open behind you.

"See? I told you she was here," came Morton’s voice. "Okay, have fun!" And the door slammed before you had a chance to turn around to see him.

When you did turn, your blood froze in your veins as you were greeted to the sight of Rodney stalking his way toward you, a forced smile on his face while his hands balled into fists. He had an infinitely more threatening aura than you'd expected, his eyes boring holes right through you as you stood frozen at the desk. You knew he'd be unhappy with you when you ran but you had no idea it would feel borderline murderous.

Fuck, this was serious. Morton didn't know Rodney was supposed to stay away from you and as far as you knew, no one else knew you were here or with him.

Rodney could legitimately kill you. He looked like he was about to. You knew instinctively that you wouldn't be getting out of this without some injuries.

"Been looking for you, cutie," he growled. "Why don't we have a chat, just the two of us, huh?"

#bowser #bowser x reader #bowser x y/n #super mario bros #i really am not sure how to keep tagging these if bowser isn't in every chapter #sorry if that makes this improperly tagged

[fakestype]

Godfather is Seiya Hidaka tinfoil hat theory

Every I know is sleeping or working so I need to be unhinged I'm so sorry those are copy pasting from discord and my crazy antics about Gatekeeper and my tinfoil hat theories.

There's this thing with Priest and Gatekeeper that the two of them are both extremes of Godfather who was the middleground and was their God

And both see this part in one another and have a hard time dealing with that.

For Priest, he sees Gatekeeper as the part of Godfather he saw as a God who was so powerful and could do anything, have an impeccable routine while I picture Priest, described as very emotional, as basically a Mayoi amped to the 1000 as in like. Self hatred and hiding in one's shadows. Never being himself. He can't see himself as useful in anything but imitating someone else's excellence without ever reaching it. Gatekeeper is excellence in what he does and he sees this, but without the warmth and passion.

Gatekeeper sees Priest and sees the abhorrent part of Godfather, the disease he sees in everyone, without the backbone to make anything of it. He says it that it is like kind of pitifully common to him.

However, Gatekeeper is not in tune with emotions and how he feels about them when faced with people, there's something about Priest's passion that perhaps touch him but he cannot look up to it because it does not fit his excellence requirement.

They both see their God in each others without Him being there, and there is only grief.

Gatekeeper has grieved from what I see, while Priest has not, he can't, he's inconsolable.

We may not know a lot about Priest but pull out the legendary chart again

So there's Priest who's an orphan and is like I cannot do anything but mimick greatness I cannot be in the light and be the God and is just super emotional altogether

but then when God dies he literally takes place of said God

Then there's the God, the Ultimate Prodigy Super Idol

But then I'm like… man like some things just make me AAAAAA like there's something about Godfather looking at foster kids and being "Yes good" or himself just crafting his own biological kids to basically be like foster kids

Having no parents at all and be neglected in every direction Subaru is def a parallel to Apostle I can't just. Some places I feel like I'm lacking a thread I need to read more Enstars istg.

Because the entire Eichi Godfather Subaru Apostle parallel is to me like the light baby version of the crunchier dark af other parallel I'm trying to make

Because you got this thing with Negi/Hitsugi being rejected by Priest, their biological father, and then Gatekeeper helping them out and they are grateful to him. Like why would. Gatekeeper do that. WHy would he bring Negi back.

Is it just emotional. Is it for something else.

Is Negi going to be the next Apostle Priest want to bring back "trying to fulfill Godfather’s goal and to bring “Apostle” back into the light, without being fully aware that he is actually destroying it instead"

I am thinking before sending messages but I can also put in my thought like I have missing pieces that keep being shown as the story goes and I'm like AAAAAAAAAAAAAA because we do not know Godfather's last wish, not really like he wants a super idol that will transcend everything and I think it's kind of a torture porn situation where you ascend beyond humanity by being the embodiment of the art without any human quality which is like holy fuck ok which is to me why SS and just everything tries to break the people who tries to be idols or are idols to bring them to that potential and I can hahaha see why Gatekeeper a sadist who was probably a serial killer I believe before he was found by Godfather or some shit like that he's Patrick Bateman let's be honest Went

Maybe he did. Maybe he's just really sadist and not serial killer actually but like. HOnestly given Enstars. I'm here for the serial killer backstory before being an assassin. It'd be sooooo fucking extra of Enstars. because Gatekeeper was first and foremost like Nagisa said he was utterly terrifying, he was the limbs of Godfather and as I quote Nagisa he was here to destroy every obstacle in the shadow and Godfather is here like he sacrificed idols for to elevate the ones he loved most. And Nagisa goes on how brutal it was. Atop of everyone's reaction to Gatekeeper especially Hiiro. Ok 100% Gatekeeper killed again and again and again for Godfather. Now did he do it before. I feel like Godfather wouldn't hire him if he did not do it before. Like see him, saw it was only murder in this man's eyes, and be like "You're hired." He's too unhinged to not pick an actual serial killer. Like if you keep a rando sadist chances are he will leave evidence when killing for you you don't want that. So back at the chart I see parallels upon parallels of Godfather, Priest and Apostle and I'm like where are the Gatekeeper I blinked and I go "… is it Ibara?" Because we got what I feel is like Godfather era: the R-rated story The Godfather aftermath era whatever the fuck happened with his children: the PG-16 story Reimei era: the PG-13 story Yumenosaki: the PG story

And there's always a God figure someone who worships and want that for themselves while just not being able to achieve it, someone cold and calculated to elevate it, and that impostor syndrome and doppleganger idk what to call it twin ass stuff Which is kinda crazy because you can see the influence of Godfather in the current units we have, like what was nurtured through the generations came out as parallel units to it Eden: from Godfather's child to attempt at "grooming" one kid to be that human-less idol… but because it is Eden, Adam (Nagisa and Ibara who had the qualities to be inhuman) failed because of Eve (Hiyori and Jun who just were good friends) Ryuseitai: That hero syndrome of saving the world of idols 2wink: That fuckin impostor weird ass shit of I'm me I'm you who are we we're suicidal UNDEAD: the legacy that never dies fine: it's the cryptid ass beings holding the paradise in the search of their god (the super idol they want) Trickstar: Honestly so far I just think Trickstar is like, the innocence of it all, because the basis of that idolation is a search for innocence, and Trickstar is it, Trickstar winning in ! is how a jaded system found back its innocence and joy of life MaM: it's Madara going "what the fuck is going on AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" I'm thinking way too hard about this. I feel like if I do that for every other unit remaining it will be a flimsier parallel but I do think it's there

basically where are the Gatekeepers between R-rated and PG what the fuck are they doing I feel like a plotwist one day will be that Madara's parents are somewhere in that chart they're mentioned too often and fucked up as hell I'm going insane but I love that asshole

There's also the like… is Madara the parallel? Is the only other guy who wants to be the bloodied limbs of someone else but also who is it… Leo? Like because Leo is a genius who's about to "not be human" because he's a genius so it's always those figures who are prodigies who are elevated during the search of the real celestial god or am I going too far with that

Then there's like Double Face… which I think Godfather def wanted to do with… somebody… I kinda wanna say Apostle, but idk if Madara made Double Face in the way he knew Godfather wanted it to be. Because idk if Godfather would do illegal shit with Akehoshi who died not wanting to compromise his morals.

And then we talk about the illegitimate and adoption line but NEVER THE OFFICIAL ONE LIKE WHERE IS IT THERE'S TOJO AND THE NKANAME AND HIMERU BUT LIKE… DETAILS????

if anything we know more about the Tojo mothers the dad is a total mystery, did the dad have siblings who was his mom

also conspiracy theory Godfather felt betrayed Akehoshi got a family and a wife, which pushed him away from being a brilliant inhuman idol and more of a human so he orchestrated his death, hoped he'd take his help while in custody to be indebted to him and have him under his control because he loved him so much but he did not take it and died and thus Godfather is unconsolable because he killed the one he loved.

ngl if they say that Godfather#2 is Seiya i'm gonna die (taking that out of my ass but funny thought)

Seiya being so close to Ibara and seeing Ibara as the future of the generation when he's. You know. Evil mastermind. Tales of Antique mentioning their interests align. Seiya being WEIRD AF WITH SUBARU. Akehoshi and Seiya's past. Tales of Antiques AGAIN mentioning how Akehoshi's death deeply affected it so he took an "Idol Robot" persona to protect himself WHICH FITS THE WAY HIMERU DOES KANAME NOW THAT I READ OBBLIGATO WHICH WOULD FIT ABOUT THE REAL SEIYA DYING AND PRIEST TAKING HIS PLACE ALSO THIS DESIGN FOR A FACE IS JUST EVIL IT'S SHARP ALL OVER.I KNOW DESIGN

IT'S VOICED BY MOTHERFUCKING SHINICHIRO MIKI AND THERE'S BASICALLY NOTHING DONE WITH THAT LEVEL OF TALENT AND SEIYA UNLIKE ANY OTHER RELATIVE OF THE CHARACTERS HAS A PORTRAIT, A VOICE, HE HAS A PRESENCE WHEN HE BASICALLY DOES NOTHING BUT SAY "HEY GUYS IM HOKUTO'S DAD" WHY WOULD HE HAVE ALL THIS OF THIS QUALITY WITH NOTHING DONE WITH YET―THATS BECAUSE HE'S GODFATHER GDI.

"Do your best to follow in my footsteps and become model prisoners of idol jail ♪"

I'm going insane. Maths (homework) turned me insane.

forgot to add Hokuto not seeing Seiya during his childhood the neglect is here it fits Seiya being a Super Idol. Now "why does no one identify Seiya as Godfather then uh genius" WELL WHY DOESN'T ANYONE KNOW ABOUT THE YUMENOSAKI WAR UH HIDE THE EVIDENCE ITS THAT EASY. Me: I won't invest so much into Enstars lore and theory I'll just chill with my bois I need to tellmyself it is impossible

This started out with me looking up initially for parallels Apostle - Godfather and I was like who's Godfather for Subaru… sure Eichi is at the helm of the system but he does NOT see Subaru like THAT (it's Wataru for him) then I was like … Hokuto? and I was like Hokuto Subaru is PG version… wait

#ensemble stars #seiya hidaka #gatekeeper (enstars) #priest (enstars) #subaru akehoshi #I'm dying Im putting this on general tags #.fakestype ( headcanon ) #long post tw

[solradguy]

curious if you could elaborate on, like, specific cases(?) or just the general phenomena of gg community ignoring character flaws since i feel like i probably agree n wanna hear someone else's thoughts on it

Almost every single Guilty Gear character has done something that would get them ostracized in other fandoms, I think. But what I see sorta often in GG's community is that sometimes people will go to great lengths to defend one character and then talk about how bad another character is for the things they've done. Zato, for example, did horrible things to Millia and her hating him/wanting him dead is entirely justifiable. But Zato gets condemned for that while Happy Chaos, who brainwashed numerous people to fight and die for him just because he thought it was funny (among other things he did before and after that), rarely gets criticized, presumably because his personality is sillier and he's got a more broadly appealing design.

I get stuff like this happens in pretty much every fandom that's ever existed ever, but it's really funny seeing it in a game called Guilty Gear, where every character has done horrible things that haunts them haha. I went with the Zato and Chaos comparison because at least in some other characters' cases, the character does have some guilt over their actions or has a redemption arc of some kind (Bedman and Ky are good examples of that), but neither Zato or Chaos seem to have much remorse over how they've treated other people yet Zato is frequently hated while Chaos is adored.

Going back to Ky for a sec since he might seem like an odd choice to include there: Ky was a child soldier that wanted to utterly annihilate a sentient species capable of intelligent communication with evidence of a unique culture, and he killed them mercilessly when he could. But he eventually realized what he was doing was awful and went back on everything he was raised to believe to try to make up for what he did. And it haunts him. It wasn't like he woke up one day and just decided to stop killing Gears because he got bored of it; it's a major part of his character that the weight of what he had done was crushing him and he'll never fully forgive himself (or ask for total forgiveness) for it.

Bedman doesn't get as much of a chance before he dies to try to make up for what he had done, but it's still there a little bit right at the end. He's also young too and not having a fully developed prefrontal cortex is a pain in the ass. Sympathy to all the people younger than 25 out there.

Even Sol, the other main box art guy, has a whole list of awful shit he's done. He also wanted to destroy the same creatures that had individual thoughts and desires as Ky did and in Sol's case it might even be worse because he was partially responsible for their creation in the first place, and he was ruthless during his Holy Order arc when he fought against Gears the most. Ignoring Aria's wishes to be allowed to die peacefully from her illness and Sol wanting to sacrifice the entire world to save Jack-O' at the end of Strive are both selfish and awful in their own ways too. Sol is also THEE guilty Gear though. We know that's all weighing on him something fierce.

But this is what makes Guilty Gear so GOOD. It's not black and white. The good guys are deeply flawed and the bad guys can be sympathetic. This series has an insane amount of nuance that all too often gets boiled down to who's redeemable and who isn't and nearly everyone's a little bit of a bastard in their own unique ways.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I think if someone is a fan of a character that's taken/tried to take away the autonomy of another character, emotionally manipulated someone via dog murder, or wanted to exterminate an entire species that was mostly fighting back because of how humanity had treated them in the first place, that they should keep that in mind when harshly criticizing other characters' actions.

#asks #Obviously I didn't include every single instance of a character being a bastard here or what they did to try to redeem themselves #I've got stuff I need to get done today lol #But know that I'm not trying to make excuses for characters being awful either #There is a decent chance someone is going to read all of this and assume to absolute worst of me I can feel it in my bones

[two-red-lungs]

Ayooo. It sounds kinda cringe but eddie munson x vampire reader???? Or something like that. Or just x GN reader. That would be rlly swag of you :D

NO BC THIS IS PERFECT I was like "man I really wanna write a little about the Lost Boys/Stranger Things fic I'm working on, but IDK if the asker knows the Lost Boys" but you DO so sorry I am taking creative liberties w/ this imagine.

"Big Storm Coming" (Eddie Munson + LostBoys!Reader)

Your brothers were rabble-rousers. Nare-do-wells. It made settling anywhere... difficult, when the police kept getting on their tails. They set fires, caused public chaos, spray-painted walls. Hell, you spray-painted walls when you were bored enough. Eternal life was excruciatingly boring.

Like clockwork Max would chew them out, probably throwing one of them across the room in anger, and then move all of you to a new town.

Probably for the best. David brought death with him everywhere, he was messy and angry like that, and Dwayne, Marko, and Paul followed his example. Usually leaving you and Star to clean up the disaster.

So, really, moving to Hawkins felt like any other clan migration. Low population, sleepy police force, lots of bored teens "prone to going missing", as David had put it with a tight, toothy smile.

Marko had cackled when Max said he was enrolling everyone in highschool to "keep you outta trouble". He thought it was a joke.

It was not a joke. When you tried to protest Max told you to shut it or he'd lock you out on the porch come sunrise.

You all went straight from Max's van doors to the school entryway. A half-second in the sun, shielded under jacket lapels and long hair.

It was, admittedly, pretty fun, blowing open those doors on your first day. As much as you had a love-hate relationship with your blood brothers, you had to admit they turned heads. You all did. Wild rocker hair, manic self-assured grins, spike-studded boots. Rock-and-roll, baby. The sea of hallway students parted for the five of you.

Paul and Dwayne, as usual, were flirting with any girl that came within five feet of them, taking bets on who'd get a number by the end of the day. But with Star home with Laddie and David glowering at everyone like he wanted to massacre everything and then hang himself, you were pretty much on your own.

Great. School, again. A year of faking interest in American history and just waiting for a drained corpse to be found in the woods.

And then. AND THEN. Hawkins High, shithole in the middle of Indiana, gave you the gift you'd be desperately hoping for.

"Principal's office, NOW, Munson!" A teacher screamed nearby, flinging open a classroom door and shoving out a tall, wild-maned, leather-jacket clad man. The man flipped a double bird to the closed door, shoved his hands in his pockets, and turned around to start trudging down the hall.

Freezing in place when he saw you. Two individuals, nearly identical in style. Outcasts. Lost, maybe.

An incredulous grin spread across his face, dark eyebrows disappearing up into messy fringe. "...Holy shit." He said with a disbelieving laugh. "Look at you. Rock on, man."

He introduced himself as Eddie Munson, blood thumping under his ivory-pale skin and smelling like American Spirit cigarettes, and all at once you were hooked. He was clearly excited to see someone else with a patch jacket sporting bands he knew. He asked you if you wanted to smoke sometime. You blindly agreed, distracted by that warm smile.

And as he walked away down the wide hall, saying "Boo!" to a passing group of freshmen girls and making them literally jump, two things were made utterly apparent to you.

One: Eddie Munson was going to save your high school experience from being the most boring thing ever.

Two: he needed to be protected from your brothers at all costs. None of you were allowed to be happy. To make friends. They destroyed those sort of things out of envy, of jealousy. And you would not let Eddie be a tally mark in David's kill ledger.

Thank you for the prompt: if you guys like this concept, please let me know! I'm considering a longer, multi-chapter crossover fic with Eddie/reader and the Hawkins gang VS Max's boys.

#eddie munson x reader #the lost boys #eddie munson #stranger things imagine #stranger things s4 #my writing