#and it’s a delight going through them all

[buttdumplin]

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

CW: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

~

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

~

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

~

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

#poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 x latine reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #i cannot emphasize the poly of this enough #this is truly some of the most self indulgent shit i've ever written and i've never been happier lmao #honestly this is just precious moments with each of them #i'm definitely going to be writing more 141 x latine reader #prepare to be fucking sick of me #frfr tho this is the first long thing i've written in years and ngl it feels good to be doing it again #also yeah i tend to sprinkle in commas like they're condiments

[katsukisbimbo]

Silver haze: Peach Ringz

- pairing: ryomen sukuna × reader, gojo satoru x reader, getou suguru × reader, (slight gojo × getou)

- synopsis: who knew letting your fuck buddy roll on your back would lead to sweet forehead kisses and naps

- wordcount: 2.7k

- warning: fem! reader, she/her pronouns, squirting, car sex, use of drugs, smoking, mentions of marijuana, oral, throatfucking, slight dubcon, unprotected sex, degradation, sub/dom themes, creampie, slight size kink, mention of panty sniffing, mention of panty tasting >.<

part one and two

- note: after 3 years of hiatus, i birth this. please enjoy. also for my weed smokers, try the strain peach ringz, it tastes like peaches!

Your eyes widened in fear, the voice startling you to the point where you felt as if your heart was going to jump out of your mouth. You scrambled to cover yourself, Sukuna watching in amusement as he did not move to even protect his decency.

“Why do you always have to fuck things up Yuji?” Sukuna sighs, palm slapping the top of Yuji’s head.

Yuji swats his hand away and grumbles under his breath before speaking. “If anything I’m saving our sweet soon-to-be manager from your corruption.” He points accusingly. “She’s so sweet and you’re taking advantage of her!”. His words echo through your mind, various thoughts rushing from the back of your head as you start to overthink. Has he been using you? What did you even expect from your little excursions with him?

“Hey, if anything, she’s using me.” Sukuna rolls his eyes, wrapping an arm around your waist to press you tight against his warm body. Yuji turns to face you now, eyes filled with concern and a hint of sympathy.

“Would you like me to take you home? My car’s just around the building. I bet you’re feeling a little cold right now.” His eyes soften. “I can turn on the seat warmer for you. I promise I’ll get you home safe.”

You slowly just nod your head, body and mind on autopilot as you slowly slip away from Sukuna’s grip and he lets you. Disappointment fills his entire being but he doesn’t let it show, but you’re too distraught to notice anyway.

Yuji takes you by the hand and quickly takes his sweater off to place around your shoulders, securing it before wrapping an arm around you and walking away from an irritated Sukuna, his cock now flaccid.

___

The car ride home was a blur, the event had left you feeling dismayed and a tad humiliated. It was your first day meeting Yuji and he had seen you in such a compromising position with his teammate, and in public as well! Thoughts of leaving the country and changing your name were heavy on your mind, but you knew it wasn’t the wisest decision especially when you have Suguru and Satoru to care for.

“Babe? You home?” a voice calls out.

Satoru probably, you think. You take your comforter and pull it over your head, dread filling each nerve of your body. This whole day has been a weird blur and all you’d like to do is sleep and pretend it never happened.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” Suguru asks, voice brimming with concern. He knew, they both knew, but they wanted to know what you would say. If you’d keep your little shenanigan up and lie to them once more.

“Please leave me alone.” You mumble, voice muffled by the thick comforter still covering your head. You feel comfortable and safe, but it is at that moment when Satoru decides he’s had enough and rips away your comfort and safety straight through your fingertips.

Before a yelp even leaves your throat, you’re being tackled by two oversized grown babies, each at your sides. Their limbs are long and wrapping around you, fingertips desperately but gently digging into whatever skin they can find. And their faces are close, so close you can smell the skin of their necks and cheeks, their pheromones causing you to sigh in delight.

“You both smell so good.” You sigh once more, eyes shut in absolute bliss as Satoru slowly starts mouthing at your neck, a trail of pecks with the occasional tongue darting out to taste you. But it was okay, Satoru always did weird things like this.

Suguru placed his large hand on top of your chest, palm cupping your breast, but even that was normal too. You three just had a close and affectionate relationship. There was nothing wrong with that. At least that’s what they both had told you.

“I know. You’re a weird little freak who likes to sniff me.” Suguru laughs, index finger tracing around your nipple and smirking when he sees your little bud stiffen up from a mere touch. Your breath hitches, maybe his finger just slipped.

“No, I’m not, I’m not Satoru.” You huff.

“Yeah, he’s worse. He likes to sniff your panties when you’re gone.”

“Are you fucking serious? Satoru!” A loud smack echoes through the room followed by obnoxious laughter and yelling.

“I was just sniffing it but HE was tasting it!”

“You both better be fucking with me!”

“Of course we are, we’re not crazy.”

They were.

___

A few days had gone by without seeing Sukuna, you decided that it would be better to turn down the position you were offered. In your opinion, Sukuna hadn’t done anything wrong, you’re a consenting adult and you liked it.

But it was just the embarrassment as well and his indifference to both of you getting caught in the act. You knew your relationship wasn’t serious, but you at least thought he would’ve cared a little more about your well-being and feelings.

You are human after all.

“Hey beautiful,” A familiar voice whispers in your ear. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Was that on purpose?”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes to the back of your skull. Of course, it was on purpose and he knew that. He wasn’t stupid. “Take a guess.” You grumble, not even sparing him a glance as you speed up a little. His large hand grabs your forearm and spins you to face him, pulling you against his body, an odd habit of his.

“Can we at least talk? Maybe sit down in my car so we can have a private space? I’ll drive us somewhere quiet. I just wanna apologize.” You look at him with a raised brow and he sighs, raking his free hand through his unruly pink hair. “Jus’ hear me out, princess.”

___

You watch him as he rolls a spliff on his lap, his little weed bag containing jars of weed, a grinder, papers, and a pen. You weren’t sure what the pen was for. Maybe for emergencies.

“Do you have to smoke every time we sit in your car?” You grimace as he lights it, the pungent smell hitting you quickly. He smirks a little and wraps his pink lips around the filter, taking a long drag before turning and blowing it towards your face.

“Yeah, I do. What else am I gonna do? Not smoke?” He raises a brow. You roll your eyes. He offers you a toke and you gladly take it, needing to expel the irritation and stress coursing through your veins.

“I’m really sorry pretty girl, I am.” He starts and looks down at your lap, unable to meet your eyes as you take a few more hits. “I was a dick. I still am. I should’ve covered you up n shit.” He sighs. “Yuji ripped me a new one after he dropped you off. I feel really bad ‘nd I jus’ wanted to say I’m sorry baby.”

The weed in your system causes you to just lightly nod your head, eyes nearly fluttering shut as the familiar feeling of being high rolls through your body in what feels like waves. Your eyes shut and you feel the spliff being taken from your fingertips.

“Say something, princess.”

“S’fine. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Just have some respect for me, that’s all.” You whisper lightly.

“I promise I’ll respect you so good baby.” He grins, handing you the spliff to take the last few tokes. “So…” He starts. “We’re good now right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Can you suck my dick?”

“…Yeah.”

He quickly discards the roach, a giddy smile on his face as he hastily unzips his pants, not even taking the time to lower them and only pulling his stiff cock out, giving it a few strokes. You watch, entranced by the way his precum pools at the tip.

You can’t help the way your thighs squeeze and your mouth fills up with saliva. “Taste it, baby, I wanna see your slutty lips around my tip.” He speaks huskily while stroking the base of his fat cock.

You find yourself leaning over, seatbelt off in a flash and his cock in your mouth, tongue licking up his leaking cock. Sukuna throws his head back in bliss, a shaky sigh escaping his lips. All he can think about is fucking your slutty mouth ‘til you’re choking down his cum. He can’t decide if he wants to cum down your throat or cum all over your pretty face.

“Yeah, you like that? You like the way my cock tastes? Throat that shit baby, I wanna feel your throat squeeze my cock.” You feel his large hand on top of your head pushing you down, and you let him. You like it, you hate to admit it but you like the way he treats you. It feels so lewd and so wrong but it makes your pussy wet anyway.

“Fuck my dicks already numb baby. I need another fucking spliff.” He mumbles before reaching for his little bag once more. “Keep sucking my dick baby. I’m jus' gonna roll on your back so don’t go too crazy yeah?” You garble out a response, throat tightening around his cock.

You continue to slobber and lick at his cock, careful to not move your back too much as you feel his jars lined up on your spine, his grinder and tray placed carefully on the left side of your back. “You’re so fucking good for me baby, my dirty little slut sucking my cock. Fuck. You look so fucking good.” He groans, licking the paper and smoothening the sides to make the perfect cone. He then uses the pen to lightly push the contents inside, making sure to not stuff it too much.

“Almost done baby. Lemme get all this off of you and I’ll face fuck you.” You moan in response, feeling yourself relax a tad when you feel the pressure taken off of your back. He lights his spliff and you take that as a moment to catch your breath, pulling off his spit-soaked cock.

He whips his head and glares at you. He wants to be mad, but seeing your face streaming with tears, covered in precum and spit. He feels like he wants to give you a baby right then and there.

“Did I say you can stop sucking? You’re my sex slave. You do whatever the fuck I tell you to. So fucking do what I say or else I won’t fuck you.” He growls, his heavy hand smacking your ass swiftly and pushing your head back down on his throbbing dick.

“Show me you’re sorry baby. I wanna see how fucking sorry you are.” You nod tearfully. Your hand cups his balls, squeezing and playing with them in your palms. “Oh fuck.” He moans, head thrown back with his spliff held between his lips.

You relax your throat and swallow his entire cock, your face pressed tight against his pelvis. His fingers dig into your scalp, loud moans leaving his lips. “Shit. Fuck. Stay down there. Keep it down your throat baby.” You start gagging, your untrained throat failing you. “Imma cum baby, imma give your throat a fat fucking load ‘cuz you deserve it.” He moans, shallowly fucking his cock down your throat.

You feel his entire body go stiff, a loud moan breaking the short silence. You feel his cock twitching down as well as his cum going straight down your throat, his cock lodged so deep inside that swallowing was unnecessary.

He wasn’t lying, he did have a big load. You pull your head back, coughing and spitting out his large load. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. Everything feels wet and sticky. Your saliva had dripped down your chin and soaked your shirt. You’ve soaked through your panties and you can feel your thighs sticking to the leather of the seat as you sit back down.

“Tissue?” You croak out, looking at him as his chest heaves. His eyes snap open. “No.” He states bluntly. “What do you mean no? Look at me! I’m so messy!” You complain, feeling the remnants of his cum drying on your skin.

“Get in the back. I’m gonna fuck you.”

“Can I at least clean—“

“Get in the fucking back.”

___

“Suguru, she’s not answering her phone.” Gojo whines. He was a petulant child indeed. Getou sighs, irritation building. He knows where you are and who you’re with. He’s just not sure what to do about it. He wants you. Both of them do.

Sure, Gojo’s a bit more straightforward and spoiled, always expecting everyone to bend to his will. But Getou knew that if you made your choice, there would be no changing your mind.

“Hello? Suguru? Are you ignoring me?” Gojo whines once more, stomping his foot like once again, a petulant child. Getou sighs in annoyance.

“Stop acting like a kid. You know where she is, and you know what she’s doing.” He pauses. “What do you wanna do about it?”

Gojo smirks.

“I have an idea, I’m just not sure you’re up for it.”

___

The world's spinning. At this point, you’re ready to leave the earth. Your body’s gone numb and you’re struggling to breathe once more as Sukuna tightens his grip on your throat.

You’re laying on your back in the backseat of his car, legs hooked over his shoulders as he fucks into you, slow but rough. His cock batters against your cervix causing your toes to curl in both pain and pleasure.

“You’re so fucking creamy holy shit. I’m gonna have to detail my car after this.” He laughs lightly. “Every time I squeeze your throat your pussy gets tighter.” He moans, fucking into you harder.

“I wanna see you squirt on my dick baby. You think you can?”

“M-Maybe, I’ve never squirted before.” You squeal when his thumb slides down your entire abdomen and presses against your clit, the rough pads of his fingers expertly playing with your sensitive parts. He watches your facial expressions attentively, figuring out what feels good and what doesn’t.

He craves to have you lose yourself on his cock. He wants you completely dick-drunk and bending to his will. He knows you can. You’ve been so good for him, it feels as if you could be the one for him.

“Sukuna!” You moan. You feel the pressure building in your abdomen. Your pussy grips his cock tighter and you feel as if you’re about to cum, eyes rolling back into their sockets. “‘M g’nna squirt!” You mumble, too far gone in your pleasure.

“Yeah? Squirt baby. I wanna feel you soak my cock. Squirt for me and only me.” He groans, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs as he feels your cunt squeeze around him. He doesn’t know how much longer until he loses himself. But he knows he wants you to cum first.

The pressure in your abdomen snaps and a string of whines and moans fall from your lips. Your whole body trembles as you squirt, soaking your entire bottom half as well as Sukuna’s. But he’s not satisfied. He wants much more. He continues to bully your clit with his thumb, synchronizing each thrust with a roll of your bud.

“S’kuna! I can’t! Too sensitive!” You squeal, hands gripping his forearm tightly but he doesn’t let up. He knows what he wants and he’s gonna have it.

“I’m gonna fill this fucking pussy up. I don’t give a fuck about your two bodyguards.”

“Wait! Don’t!”

“I don’t care.” He smacks your hands away. He grips your wrists in his large hand and pins them above your head, his other hand occupied.

“I’m cumming baby~” He moans, thrusting his dick as deep as his can, grinding his tip against your bruised cervix as his cum paints your walls white.

You’re both left trembling and heaving, his cock still twitching and emptying itself inside your cunt. You wonder if you’ll be able to experience this type of sex with anyone else. Or if you’ll think about the way Sukuna makes you feel your entire life.

“Wanna go back to my place and nap? We can pick up some Wingstop.” He gives you a toothy grin before kissing your forehead. You can’t do anything but nod tiredly, throat still sore from Sukuna’s abuse.

But you wonder, was it normal for fuck buddies to kiss each other's foreheads so gently?

© katsukisbimbo 2024 — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated. please be kind and enjoy

#fem reader #she/her pronouns #afab reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #getou x reader #tw drugs #tw dubcon #tw marijuana #tw degradation

[exchangestudentnova]

Dr. Baizhu has his eyes set on you. He's so in love with you that he's willing to make you immortal as well so that the two of you could be together till the end of time.

Just like the rest of Liyue, you also had absolute faith in his Universal Diagnosis and Holistic Revivification but you don't fall ill so offen. You accompany the little children who's parents are too busy in their pursue of earning money in the harbour. Baizhu loves your little visits to bubu pharmacy, where you'll drop the kid off, talk to Qiqi, talk to Baizhu about the children's medication and take them back. He wishes to have a proper conversation with you but you don't seem to stay around.

Your head hurts. Suddenly from 2-3 days it started hurting in waves. Yesterday the pain was too much, so much so that you couldn't keep your eyes open and had to lie down.

"Dr Baizhu I took the medicine you gave yet I don't feel better. I hope it's not something bad." Baizhu places his hands under your chin and lifts it up to meet your eyes. "Don't fret dear, you can trust my Herbal Nourishment. You'll be fine in no time." So trust you did.

He treated you with utmost love and care, both medically and personally. But you noticed one thing. The more you went to Baizhu, the more.....'bizzare' your symptoms became. Symptoms that when others experienced, Baizhu would send them home with medications, but he asked you to stay with him, 'to keep an eye on you' he says

You lay on his bed, your body's temperature as high as humanly possible. It is becoming difficult for you to breath through your nose, the sound of you panting desperately for air filling the room. " Issssn't it wrong of you to keep this human conssssently ill" you could here the snake around his neck speak up. "Ah no worries, I will make sure their condition doesn't worsen, yet they are obliged to be under my care. After all the first they'll do when they wake is go back home. Now we can't have that can't we" Your head hurt too much to focus too well on his words, yet you still managed to crack open your eyes look up at him, seeing his Attentive Observation on you, a delightful smile on his face.

What can we say? He always had his eyes set on you.

#baizhu #genshin impact baizhu #yandere baizhu #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #yandere blog #elemental skill #elemental burst #constellations

[witchywithwhiskey]

nick fowler + "no more, please, I can't"

optional scenario: the rites of spring

a delicious end to a delightful spring day

pairing: ceo!fiancé!nick fowler x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, oral sex (m receiving), brief/referenced piv sex, lingerie, strip tease, light bdsm, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (prințesa), tiny bit of bratting, mostly just nick spoiling his prințesa—and her showing him how much she appreciates him

word count: 1,700ish

a/n: ahh thank you for sending in something for Nick, Aspen, you were the only one!! also i feel a little bad that i keep ignoring your optional additions but i did it again 🙈 but i think you'll like CEO fiancé Nick Fowler, he's very dreamy 😏 anyway, hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡♡

“No more, please, I can’t,” you whined, digging in your heels on the sidewalk of New York City, dragging your fiancé Nick Fowler to a stop outside yet another boutique clothing store. He turned to you, settling his hands on your waist and gathering you up against his broad chest while he smiled down at you indulgently.

A lovely spring breeze was blowing through the cherry blossom trees that lined the elegant street of the Upper West Side, but your feet were aching from walking so much during the shopping trip Nick had insisted on—he’d wanted to spoil you rotten, as he’d said. But Nick’s Bentley was already stuffed full of bags filled with all kinds of clothes he’d purchased for you, and you wanted to be done. 

So you pouted up at your fiancé, your fingers twisting in the soft cashmere of his sweater. “Can we go home, sir?” you asked sweetly, trying to keep the whine out of your voice and failing miserably. 

Nick chuckled a little at your tone, then ducked down and pressed a firm kiss to your pouting lips. The gesture was enough to make you smile, and his words made you sigh with relief when he said, “Just one more stop, prințesa, then we’ll go home.”

Your fiancé waited for you to nod before lacing his fingers with yours and towing you into the clothing store, which you discovered specialized in extremely expensive lingerie. All of the pieces looked like works of art, shaped from lace and ribbon and silk. You could hardly imagine owning any of the matching sets, let alone more than one.

But Nick wasn’t just one of the top CEOs in New York City—he was renowned across the globe for his business acumen and was one of the richest men in the country. So it was of little consequence to him to hand over his black Amex in exchange for a half dozen of the shop’s matching sets, all of them in your favorite colors. 

You were a little dazed—part from shock and part from exhaustion—so you didn’t protest when one of the saleswomen stole you away from Nick while he was paying the bill. She led you into the changing room where the prettiest pink lacy bustier you’d ever seen, along with a matching thong, were hung up for you. 

The saleswoman relayed instructions from Nick that he wanted you to change into the lingerie and put your clothes back on before meeting him outside. As quickly as you could manage, you did as she said, then walked quickly to the front of the store, eager for the shopping trip to be over.

Nick stood on the sidewalk, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he waited for you, the bags from the shop already loaded into his Bentley, which was parked nearby. You stood and appreciated his handsomeness for a moment, the rugged cut of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, the bright blue of his eyes. 

But then he caught sight of you, and you were stunned all over again by the sheer amount of love and adoration that emanated from the powerful businessman when he looked at you. It made your heart soar in your chest and a giddy smile spread across your face.

“Ready to go, prințesa?” Nick asked, reaching his hand out to you, waiting for you to take it.

“Yes, sir,” you chirped, the tiredness and brattiness you’d felt dissolving as you skipped to him, lacing your fingers with his. You pushed up onto your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Nick’s scruffy cheek, murmuring, “Thank you for everything today,” as you pulled away.

“Do you like your final gift, prințesa?” Nick asked, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

His question made you very aware of the wires and lace of the lingerie pressing into your skin beneath your simple sundress, the bustier pushing up your tits and the thong revealing so much, you could feel the cool spring breeze on your bare ass beneath your skirt. It felt sinful to be wearing such decadent lingerie beneath your clothes, and you couldn’t help but smile up at your fiancé. 

“I love it, sir,” you purred, holding onto Nick’s hand and wrapping yourself around his arm as he walked you to the car. Your body warmed as you pressed against his muscled bicep, wanting to rub yourself against your fiancé but knowing the sidewalk in New York City was neither the time nor the place.

“Good,” Nick said, flashing you a grin. You’d arrived at his Bentley, and he opened the passenger door for you, helping you into the seat. It wasn’t until he was settled in the driver’s side, his hand tangling with yours again and holding it in his lap, that he went on. “You’re going to show me how much you appreciate all your gifts once we get home, aren’t you, prințesa?”

A coil of heat bloomed between your thighs at the innuendo in your fiancé’s tone and you squirmed a little in your seat, murmuring, “Yes, sir,” as ideas about how you could show your appreciation spun through your mind. Suddenly, you were even more eager to get home.

Thankfully, the drive outside of the city and into the lush countryside where Nick’s manor was located wasn’t too long, and it was enjoyable. The day was warm enough to put the windows down, and you were so content, you nearly fell asleep in the passenger seat.

However, you were anything but tired when you made it inside the manor and stood just inside the door of the bedroom you shared with your fiancé. Your heart raced with excitement as you slowly stripped off your dress to reveal the pretty pink matching set beneath, making a show of peeling the clothing off your body.

Nick sat reclined in a club chair in the small seating area in the massive bedroom, his head tilted back and his eyelids heavy as he watched you with intense focus. You could feel the heat of his gaze as it drifted down your body, teasing you without touching you. 

Stifling a shiver of desire, you dropped your dress onto the carpeted floor, leaving you in only your lingerie and heels. You stood before your fiancé, confident in the knowledge that he loved looking at your body wrapped in lace, and wanting to give him the pleasure of looking at you.

“Give me a spin, prințesa,” Nick rumbled, his voice gruff with arousal. Already, you could see the bulge of his cock in the front of his slacks.

You smirked as you twirled slowly, popping your hips out to make your ass bounce in a way you knew he liked. By the time you’d turned back around to face your fiancé, his blue eyes were dark with the promise of sin. 

“C’mere,” he murmured, crooking a finger at you. 

Anyone else might think he expected you to walk to him, but you knew your soon-to-be husband’s tastes. So instead of stepping toward him, you lowered yourself to your knees, watching as Nick’s face went slack with lust. Pressing your hands to the carpet, you crawled slowly to your fiancé. You smiled as you felt your hips swaying side to side, loving the way Nick’s eyes seemed glued to your plush ass.

You crawled between Nick’s spread thighs and rubbed your cheek against the bulge in his slacks, looking up at your man from under your lashes. 

“May I show you how much I appreciate everything you got me today, sir?” you asked in a pouty little voice, biting back a smile when Nick’s cock twitched against your cheek. You pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to his length through his pants while you waited for his permission. 

“Go ahead, prințesa,” Nick rumbled, smoothing his hand over your hair and resting his palm heavily against the crown of your head. His expression was intent with desire as he looked down at you on your knees between his legs.

Eagerly, you unbuttoned and unzipped Nick’s slacks, pulling out his cock and wasting no time before you peppered the stiff length of him in kisses. You delighted in the feeling of him against your lips, the velvety softness of his skin, and the unyielding hardness beneath. Running your tongue up the underside of his cock, you lavished Nick’s cock with your attention until the tip was weeping precum. 

“Good girl, prințesa,” Nick rumbled, petting your head affectionately as you worshipped his cock. “Such a good girl—” he cut himself off in a grunt of pleasure when you wrapped your lips around the tip of his dick and licked up his creamy precum. “Mm, I can feel how appreciative you are for all your pretty new clothes.”

Sucking on the head of Nick’s cock, you pulled off until your lips were pressed against the tip and gently spit onto him, letting it roll down his hard length. Looking up at your fiance, you watched his eyes darken even further as you used your drool to get his cock nice and wet. 

“Yes, sir,” you murmured breathily, answering his question while you stroked him with your fingers. “I appreciate the springtime shopping trip sooo much.” You shot a wicked grin at Nick, then wrapped your lips around his cock and truly set to work. 

You sucked Nick’s cock with abandon, bobbing up and down on his length and kissing every inch of his balls, making him grunt and groan from all pleasure you gave him. For a long while, you drew it out, wanting to show Nick exactly how much you loved and appreciated everything he did for you, and he let you, petting your head and murmuring soft words of praise that only made you want to give him even greater pleasure.

Eventually, though, Nick decided you’d appreciated him enough. He hauled you up into the chair where he sat, pushed your thong aside and slid into your tight, exquisite heat. For the rest of the night, both you and your fiancé showed each other how much you loved and appreciated one another. It was a delicious end to a delightful spring day.

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #nick fowler #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler smut #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #buckets-and-trees

[suguwu]

MOON EATER I THREE

"But truly, Master Diluc—why am I here?"

"I would wed you," he says, flexing his hands in his lap. "If you are amenable to it."

minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

masterlist

pairing: diluc ragnvindr x f!reader

notes: i've been sitting on this chapter for a while, so i'm excited to send it out in the world!

content: marriage of convenience, politics, some manipulation, pining, jealousy, some jeanlisa if you squint.

wc: 4k

The winery is almost entirely empty when Diluc steps inside after you. Jean is corralling the few stragglers, giving quiet orders to the remaining knights, her blue eyes as gentle as the summer sky. She’s in ceremonial wear and it hones her; he thinks of a sheathed blade. 

“Jean,” he says. “You don’t need to do that.” 

She turns to face him, a soft smile curling up on her lips. There’s a faint blush on her cheeks, the color of the pearly dawn. It’s the one she gains when she’s caught doing something she knows she shouldn’t.

(“Father,” Diluc said, innocent as a newborn fawn as Jean and Kaeya shifted at his side.  “You wanted to see us?”

His father eyed them with a raised brow. “I don’t suppose the three of you know anything about the pie that went missing from the kitchen.” 

Kaeya fidgeted with his sleeve, his slender fingers working at the cuff of it. Diluc elbowed him in the ribs subtly. “No, Father,” he said.

His father studied each of them carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, Diluc saw the blush rising to Jean’s cheeks, a soft pink that was slowly darkening. 

“Jean?” his father asked.

“I’m sorry!” she cried out, and Diluc groaned.)

“I was just helping—”

“Jean. You don’t need to help.” 

She bites at her lip and Diluc softens. He’d forgotten how much she needed to feel useful. But this close, he can see the bags under her eyes, the deep blue-gray of a stormcloud. “My staff has it under control,” he says. “And you’re a guest.” 

“But—”

“Go home and rest.” 

“I can still—”

“Jean.” 

“Alright,” she says quietly. “I just need to give a few more orders, that’s all.”

He nods and starts to step away.

“Diluc?”

When he turns to face her, he takes a sharp breath. There’s something like sorrow shining through her expression, something bone-deep carved into the curve of her mouth.

“Is this really what you wanted?” she asks. Her voice is gentle, but she’s watching him carefully, her gaze a comet streaking through the sky, the blue of it cutting through the heavens’ tender underbelly. It cuts through him, too.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says after a moment.  

Jean smiles, starshine at dawn, a slow fade of light. “I thought you might say that.”

Diluc stays quiet, meeting her gaze steadily. 

“You’re as stubborn as ever,” she says, shaking her head, but her voice is fond. 

“Master Diluc? Stubborn? Perish the thought,” Lisa says as she joins them, wrapping her shawl around her pale shoulders. 

Jean heaves out a beleaguered sigh, but she can’t quite hide the twitch of her lips.

Lisa laughs, light and tinkling, looping her arm through Jean’s. “Come on, darling,” she says. “Let’s let the newlyweds have their night, yes?” She throws Diluc a bold wink. 

Heat scorches across his cheeks, a supernova burn. He’s able to disguise his choke as a cough at the last second, though from the glimmer in Lisa’s jade eyes, he hasn’t hidden it well enough. 

“Lisa!” Jean scolds.

The mage laughs again. She’s every inch the cat who got the canary, her lips curling into a delighted little smile. 

“Goodnight, Diluc,” Jean says, all but dragging Lisa away. Lisa lets herself be led, snuggling in close to the blonde as they leave. It smushes some of the roses in her hair, but she doesn’t seem to care that she’s leaving a trail of petals behind. Diluc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry about her,” you say as you join him. “She’s a handful.”

“I’m aware.” 

You laugh, picking a cecilia out of your hair and rolling the short stem between your palms. The bloom whirls with it, a ballerina’s tulle skirt, a light dusting of pollen floating down from it to tint your fingers gold. It catches the light as you raise your hand to cover your yawn.

Diluc frowns. “You should go to bed,” he says. “It’s been a long day.” 

You hum. “It has been,” you say. “I don’t suppose you intend to sleep soon?”

“I need to speak with Adelinde.” 

“Alright,” you say. “Good night, then.”

“Good night.” 

He watches you go upstairs, the hem of your dress flowing behind you, a silken spill of moonlight. 

You don’t look back. 

He turns on his heel. Finding Adelinde is easy; she’s in the midst of giving orders to some of the staff. She hands off a mostly-empty platter of tiny, delicate golden-brown pastries to Hillie when she sees him.

“Master Diluc.”

“Adelinde,” he says. “How is the clean up going?”

“We’ll be done with the food soon. The rest can wait until morning, I believe.” 

“Good.”

Adelinde pauses. She looks at him for a moment; her jade eyes have a knife’s edge to them, her gaze an autopsy cut. Her lips draw tight, a wound of a mouth. “You mean to go out tonight.”

“Yes.”

“If I may, Master Diluc,” she says, “you now have a wife.”

“That has no bearing in this. The Knights will be lax tonight, lulled into complacency by the celebration. I heard a few mention continuing at Angel’s Share after they return to the city. I cannot leave Mond unprotected.” 

Adelinde does not frown. Instead, her face smooths out into an impenetrable mask, porcelain breathed to life. “Very well,” she says. “At least wait until she’s asleep.” 

“The sooner I leave—”

“At least wait until she’s asleep,” she says, voice sharp. “It is your wedding night.”

“When she’s asleep,” he allows.

Adelinde nods. “Goodnight, Master Diluc.”

“Goodnight, Adelinde.” 

He goes upstairs quietly. There’s a soft light filtering from under the door to your room. He sighs and heads into the master bedroom, settling at the small desk in front of the windows. He lights the candles with a flick of his wrist; the flames devour the wick, leaping high before settling into a low, sweet glow. He’s just beginning to shuffle through a few papers when one of the hallway floorboards groans, a warning song.

“Diluc,” you say from the doorway. The candlelight barely reaches you there; it casts you into shadows, a new moon’s outline against the velvet of the sky. “May I come in?”

He stands. “Yes,” he says. “What is it?”

You step inside. The cecilias are gone from your hair, but you’re still wearing your dress. Your smile is a bit sheepish, but there’s a secret tucked up in the corner of it. “My dress,” you say. “The maids are all so busy. Can you undo the top few buttons for me?”

“I—what?”

“It’s hard to undo them from this angle,” you say. “Please?”

He takes a breath. “Alright.” 

You turn as he steps closer, the delicate train of the dress swirling at your feet, a whirlpool of silk. It exposes the line of buttons marching down the back of your dress, rigid against the soft flow of the fabric. 

The buttons are tiny things, pearls that shine like little moons even in the low light. He bites back a curse as they slip against the leather of his gloves. He tries again, gently tugging on a button, but it refuses to come out of the loop holding it tight. He changes the angle, but it’s no use; he runs afoul of the slick surface again and again. He huffs in annoyance and bites at the tip of his index finger to peel off his glove, letting it drop to the ground.

He tries again and finally, the button slips free of the little loop. The fabric separates. His fingertips—rough, heavy with scars from burns and blades alike—brush against the cool slope of your back, skin against skin. He goes still. 

You glance at him over your shoulder. You’re still shadow-kissed, but your eyes gleam in the dim.

(“Forgive my forwardness,” you said. “But there is the small matter of lovers.”

Diluc coughed. He glanced at you and saw no hint of a joke. “I beg your pardon?”

“Lovers,” you said, that rosebud smile rising to your lips, petals yet unfolded. “If you should take one, I only ask that you be discreet. I would do the same, of course.” 

Something in Diluc’s chest went cold. It was bone-deep, as if the Dragonspine winds were cutting through him. “You would take a lover?”

“I do not know the future,” you said. “But if I should, I would be discreet, as I said. Is that alright?” 

Diluc took a deep breath. “If you wish it, I would hardly stop you.”

You inclined your head to him with a little smile. You moved on to another topic like a river current, slow but inexorable. Diluc barely heard any of it, your voice muffled, as if you were speaking underwater. He only came back to himself as you gathered your things and bid him farewell. 

“Master Diluc,” you said at the door. He glanced up at you, your features softened in the light streaming in through the windows. “I should mention that I would not mind you in my bed instead of a lover.” 

Diluc choked.

By the time he recovered enough to speak, you were already gone.)

He undoes another button. Then a third, and a fourth, each little pearl slipping from its loop with ease. His thumb traces over the salt of your skin until it slips just beneath the fabric. He pulls just enough for the gap between the fabric to widen. He drags his thumb along the crescent moon sliver of revealed skin; a callus catches against you. You take in a sharp breath.

Diluc pulls back as if burned.

“There,” he says, clearing his throat, his cheeks hot. He knows they’ve gone scarlet, that there’s a deep flush painted over his whole face. “They’re undone.”

“Thanks,” you say, glancing over your shoulder once more. Your lashes catch the shadows like a spider’s web. It only serves to better illuminate your eyes. He swallows. 

“You’re welcome.”

You study him for a moment before you smile, as soft as the breaking dawn. “Goodnight,” you say.

“Goodnight.” 

The door clicks shut behind you. Diluc listens as your quiet footsteps fade away; there’s a distant thud as the door to your room closes too. He sighs, leaning down to pick his glove up off the floor. He slides it back on as he crosses to his closet. The night is still young and he knows what he must do.

When he’s dressed, he opens the secret compartment to his desk. He stares down at the owl mask that’s ensconced there. It gleams in the low light, the severe point of its beak a wicked hook. Diluc tucks it away under his cloak before he opens the window. 

With the lush vines clinging to the winery walls, it’s an easy climb down. He looks up when he reaches the bottom. There’s still a light glowing faintly in your window. His chest aches, as if a ribbon is tightening around it, but he ignores it and slips on the mask.

He has work to do.

—

Morning comes far too soon.

Diluc’s room is still steeped in blue, but the promise of morning is apparent on the horizon where golden fingers of light are reaching into the sky, scraping their way through the darkness. The birds are just beginning to stir, their chirps still subdued, a few plucked notes before the melody. 

It feels like Diluc has just only collapsed into bed, but the stars that had been watching over him when he stole back into his room have gone out, fading beneath the dawn. He sits up and scrubs a hand over his face, wincing as it pulls at the fresh set of lilac bruises blooming on his right side. He prods at them carefully. 

The ache sinks its teeth in as he brushes his fingertips along the biggest of them. It’s still darkening, a galaxy caught under his skin. It remains tender as he gets ready for the day; it takes effort to not compensate for it in his movement. 

By the time Diluc heads downstairs, the winery is already stirring to life. A few maids scurry past him; he can hear the vineyard workers starting to make their way through the vines, checking them after the harvest. But most of the activity is centered in the heart of the winery, where the remnants of your wedding reception are. He watches as two of the servants unhook a floral garland from the rafters, petals raining down beneath them. The petals whirl through the air like snowflakes, thick and white, and Diluc brushes one off when it lands on his shoulder. He’s in the middle of plucking another out of his mass of crimson hair when the floorboards whisper your arrival. 

“Oh,” you say. “They’re taking them down already? A shame.”

He glances at you. “I am sure Adelinde would be open to keeping them up, should you wish it.”

“It’s fine. I just thought they might keep them up a little longer while they’re fresh.” 

“I see.” 

You reach out and let a petal drift into your hand. It’s a little bruised at the edges from being shaken loose, but you don’t seem to mind. 

“Do you think I could have a few for my room?” you ask.

“A few—”

“Flowers,” you say. “I’m sure many of them are still intact even after the garlands are taken down.”

“Of course. Any that you would like.” 

“Thank you.”

“No thanks needed,” he says, adjusting his cuff. “It’s—this is your home too, now.” 

You pause. When you look at him, he can’t quite make sense of your expression. “Yes,” you say quietly. “I suppose it is.”

“I hope you will be comfortable here.”

You smile, the slow rise of a crescent moon. “I’m sure I will be. Though I intend to return to Liyue soon.”

“Of course. Do you know when?”

“I expect that I’ll return within the week.”

“Oh? That’s later than I expected.”

“So eager to be rid of me?”

Diluc flushes, the heat of it spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “No, I—”

“I’m only teasing,” you say. “I haven’t been back to Mond in a while. There are some things I should handle in person.” 

“I see.”

You examine him for a moment. Whatever you see must satisfy you, for you glance back at the workers, still diligently undoing the reception decor, autumn come indoors, the flowers stripped away to reveal bare wood. A petal flutters down into your hair; Diluc thinks of the gentle fall of snow. He starts to raise his hand to pluck it out but you shift and the petal drifts to the ground. He halts before tugging at his glove instead.

“Now,” you say, turning back to him, “I need something to eat. Will you be joining me for breakfast?”

Diluc shakes his head. “The vintners asked for me today,” he says. “The earlier I can speak with them the better.” 

You hum. “Okay. Have a good day.”

“You as well.” 

You flash a small smile before inclining your head to him. “Husband,” you say. You dart off before he can respond. He watches you disappear, the moon dipping below the horizon. 

Husband, he thinks. 

He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to that.

—

The days roll by. Diluc buckles down to work, caught up in the hubbub of the end of the harvest season. He oversees the grape crushing, the little fruits popping beneath the press until they’re must, all pulp and juice. A few small buckets of grapes are set aside for the children of the workers; they’ll stomp them to their hearts’ content, their chiming laughter drifting through the vines as they cling to each other for balance, their little feet dyed dark.

(“C’mon, Luc!” Kaeya cried, already scrambling towards the tub filled with ruby-red grapes. His eye was shining, starlight bright, a grin spread wide across his face, his usual reticence washed away. Diluc knew it was his favorite time of year; the other boy loved every moment of the harvest season and all that came with it.

 “Hurry up!” Kaeya called. He had already rolled up his pant legs and stepped into the tub, his face lit with joy, a summer sun in the autumn chill.

Diluc huffed but climbed in after him. The grapes popped beneath his weight, squishing up between his toes, a pulpy mess of skin and seeds. He stomped once, twice, and felt more of them burst. 

Kaeya reached for his hand; Diluc twined their fingers together and held on tight as the scrawny boy started to jump in place. Kaeya laughed wildly, the sound picked up by the wind and carried away like seeds. He jumped again and almost slipped. Diluc caught him at the last minute, hauling him up with a giggle. They joined hands again and began to twirl in a circle, stomping away as they went.

They laughed as they spun around together, holding on tight to each other as juice started to gather beneath their feet. Their skin went purple with it, a galaxy splashed up to their calves. The golden afternoon sun shone down on them; sweat gathered on their brows. But they kept going and going, unrelenting until the last of the grapes had burst beneath their feet.

They panted as they climbed to the side of the tub. Kaeya sat on the edge of it, swinging his feet as the maids went to gather towels for them. He was incandescent with delight, a shooting star streaking across the night sky, and Diluc grinned. 

“Good work, boys,” his father said, coming down the path. He’d clearly met the maids halfway; there were towels slung over his broad shoulder.

Diluc puffed up with pride; next to him, Kaeya smiled, shy but pleased. His father handed them the towels and watched as they wiped their feet clean.

“Ready for the next step?” his father asked. 

Kaeya nodded eagerly, but Diluc balked.

“Can’t we stomp more grapes?” he asked.

His father laughed, as warm as the sun. “Maybe later,” he said. “But now you need to learn what happens next.”

Diluc sighed.

“C’mon, Luc,” Kaeya said, bumping his shoulder against Diluc’s. “There’s always tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Diluc said. “There is.”)

Diluc sighs, nodding to Connor as he takes his leave. He heads back to the winery; a few of the workers call out greetings, but no one tries to stop him.

Adelinde appears as soon as he steps inside the winery. She inclines her head to him, her hands clasped in front of her. “Master Diluc,” she says.

“Adelinde,” he greets. 

“Is everything in order?”

“Yes,” he says. “Everything is ready for processing. It was a good harvest.” 

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’ll take some of Elzer’s work with the Wine Guild so he can concentrate on processing. If you see him, please let him know.”

Adelinde purses her lips. “Master Diluc, Elzer is perfectly capable of handling both. You have enough on your plate.”

“My decision is final, Adelinde.”

She examines him for a moment, her jade eyes sharp, a flaying gaze. “You don’t need to make amends for your absence,” she says. “That is the past.” 

Diluc flinches. Adeline watches him steadily, her face impassive, but her eyes have softened, have crinkled around the edges, sweetly fond. He flexes his hand, searching for words, but his tongue is leaden in his mouth.

Adelinde takes pity on him. “The vineyard workers are starting the fertilization process today and tomorrow,” she says. “Is there anything you wish to let them know?”

“No. I trust them.”

“Good.”

Diluc adjusts his cuff. “Is that all?”

She smooths her hands over her uniform skirt, as if erasing wrinkles that aren’t there. “Your wife’s travel arrangements are complete. She means to leave tomorrow.” 

He nods. “Where is she now?”

“She went to the Dandelion Sea, I believe.”

“By herself?”

“She has an escort. One of the knights. Though it is my understanding that the knight would not be able to return with her due to a patrol.” 

Diluc rolls his shoulders, trying to loosen the broad line of them. “When did they leave?”

The corners of Adelinde’s lips creep upwards, an ivy tendril curve, barely noticeable. “A few hours ago.”

He nods curtly. “Thank you, Adelinde.”

“Of course, Master Diluc.” She disappears, light on her feet despite her heels, barely a whisper of sound to accompany her.

Diluc leaves the winery to head to the stables.

—

The Dandelion Sea stretches vast, the flowers rippling in the breeze like waves lap at the shore. The sun is high in the sapphire sky, a halo burning bright, the dandelions stark white under its kiss. There are seeds floating through the air, faintly glowing, scattered like falling stars. 

Diluc ties his horse to a tree, leaving her to graze on some long grass, and begins to make his way into the Sea. More seeds come loose, dancing around him like snowflakes; they settle into his mane of hair, the crimson of it bleeding to something darker against the soft white of them. They catch on his jacket, too, dotting the ebony cloth until it’s a glittering night sky. 

It doesn’t take him long to find you. He can see faint figures at the edge of the Sea, where the trees cast shadows, a sweet pool of shade. He heads towards you as the breeze picks up. It carries a peal of laughter to him, bright as the sun, swirling around him. 

“Oh,” you say as he draws close, standing up before he can stop you.

The knight you’re with comes to attention—far too late. “M—Master Diluc,” he stammers. 

Diluc clicks his tongue. The knight goes shame-faced, glancing away from his thunderous visage. 

You smile, a glaze lily unfolding under the moon’s tender touch. You touch the knight’s vambrace lightly before turning to Diluc. His gaze stays on where you’re touching the knight still, your fingertips lingering against the metal of his armor.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” you say. “Is something wrong?”

Diluc blinks, vermilion eyes flickering back to you. “No.”

You pause, as if waiting for something. Diluc blinks again. Your smile flickers, a guttering candle. The knight shifts in place.

Diluc turns his attention to him. “You can go,” he says curtly. 

“But—”

“You have patrol soon, don’t you, Anselm?” you ask. “You should head out.” 

Anselm glances at you. “Oh. Of course.”

“Thank you for accompanying me today,” you say. “It’s appreciated.”

The knight nods, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. He gives you the Ordo’s salute. “Let the wind lead,” he says before turning to leave.

Diluc doesn’t bother to watch him go; he keeps his gaze on you. That rosebud smile blooms on your lips again, as inevitable as the sun’s rise. “Poor Anselm,” you say. “You have quite the scowl, Master Diluc.”

He doesn’t rise to the bait. “Was he going to leave you here alone?”

You sigh. “It’s perfectly safe here.”

“So he was.”

“You’re here now,” you say. “So it hardly matters.”

Diluc bristles. “It matters to me. The Knights have their duties—”

“They cannot attend to every single civilian. The roads to the Sea have been clear for weeks, anyway. Or did you see something on your way?”

He furrows his brow and sets his jaw. “No.”

“The Knights aren’t as incapable as you think,” you say softly. You peer at him through the fan of your eyelashes, the shadow cast by them soft against your cheeks. “And besides, as I said, you’re here now. I know you’ll keep me safe.” 

Diluc takes in a sharp breath. He tugs at his glove and glances away.

You don’t seem to notice. Your attention has returned to the Dandelion Sea. The meadow sways gently in the wind, a honey-slow shiver. You trace a finger over a dandelion; it stays whole despite your touch, the Anemo energy holding it together brightening for a breath before it fades again, a firefly glow.

But when you flop into them, the dandelions puff up, the seeds scattering like starfall. They yield to you like a blessing, giving you everything they have. The seeds catch in your hair, your clothing, your eyelashes. You turn your face up to the sky, the sun bathing you golden.

It strikes Diluc that you are pretty. 

(Burnished by the light, you were lost amid the golden leaves of the sandbearer tree. You climbed and climbed until you were shining bright in the cerulean sky, a sun all your own. Diluc watched from the ground, mouth agape.

When you glanced down, the shadows crossed your face in bold strokes. It softened you, blurred the edges of you. Except for your smile. Your smile cut through the shadows like a single stark slash of a sun-bright knife.

Diluc looked up at you, at that smile, and suddenly, he knew what pretty meant.

It meant you.)

It’s not the first time he’s realized it, but it feels new. It’s in the curve of your back, a cathedral nave of muscle and bone; it’s in the way the sun filters through the leaves to touch you like a lover, a stained-glass kiss. The dandelion seeds catch on your eyelashes like moonlight, and it hits him again: you’re pretty. 

And you’re his.

He pushes the thought away. You might be his, but it’s in name only. He knows better than to assign meaning to it. There’s nothing between the two of you aside from a certificate with your signatures upon it. 

But that’s fine.

That’s all he needs it to be.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr x you #bee writes genshin #fic: moon eater

[mosaickiwi]

Your Actual First Kiss

@taeee0902 first kiss with redacted fdsjklfsdjalk

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Your Actual First Kiss~

Hiding their nerves behind his normal cool demeanor, [REDACTED] let you push them down on the couch and lay atop his chest. You’d been getting bolder in the past few weeks of dating and he was ecstatic about it. Still, he always played a passive role as you got comfortable, intent on having you set the pace for every encounter.

You fiddled with the collar of his shirt for a while, then shyly asked, “So… when can I kiss you?”

“Whenever y’want,” came their instant reply. He’d been patient for the moment you were ready, but felt just as delighted that you asked them.

“Right now?”

[REDACTED] blinked for a second, blood warming his cheeks as he muttered, “‘Course, Angel. It’d actually… be my first.”

“Really?” you asked innocently, smiling and leaning down over him.

They knew you were only teasing. He’d never even think of giving their first anything to anyone other than you. The man could feel the redness crawling further up to his ears as you leaned closer.

You suddenly pulled away and frowned to yourself. “I’m a little disappointed it’s not my first, though.”

His blue eyes widened a fraction, though the information wasn’t a surprise to them. Well aware of your past relationships—and all the ups and downs they entailed—he immediately knew which one you were thinking about. “It’s not?” they gently pried, testing the waters of how much you wanted to open up. 

“Yeah, it was a long time ago. The relationship was kind of… messy?” Your brow wrinkled and your tone turned a touch softer as you dwelt on it. “I wish it never happened, honestly.”

He couldn’t voice his own thoughts just yet. Their heart sank at the idea that they couldn’t go back and fix it—to make sure you’d never have such an ill gotten memory that made you upset, no matter how small. It’d be easier to give you a better experience now.

“Then it didn’t happen,” [REDACTED] decided aloud.

You raised your eyebrow and crossed your arms over his chest. “But it did?”

“If y’don’t like it, ‘didn’t happen,” he repeated. He absently brushed a hand through your hair, lingering at the nape of your neck. “Y’can try again with me, yeah?”

“Oh…” The frown on your face quickly melted away, replaced with the shy, devious smile you wore when you pushed him down earlier. “Yeah.”

Lips parted, breath caught in his throat, your ever-patient hacker waited as you leaned down once more to bring your lips close to theirs. He could hardly form a thought the moment they felt your breath, then your warm skin. 

It was everything he imagined it’d be. From how they felt your heart beating in an uneven rhythm with his, down to the way you tasted was just what he dreamed of each night. One kiss from his angel was worth the seemingly endless years of waiting.

As you pulled away—no doubt stealing what little breath remained in them—he followed after, the desperation he normally kept at bay rising to the surface as he held you close with their hand on your cheek. 

“H-how…” [REDACTED] laughed, caught off guard by the butterflies in his stomach that made them trip over their words. “How’s that? Better?”

You bit your lip and he noticed the sparkle in your eyes as you had to fight off your own butterflies. “Perfect, Ren,” you whispered.

#14 days with you #14dwy redacted #14dwy ren #momo reqs #silly guy #real bottom energy for redacted in here lmfao #soooo funny that google doc says dwelt is incorrect and i gotta go “ur lying to me” but change it anyways #then firefox says um actually ☝🤓 dwelled is wrong #never correct me again google you SHEEP! /silly #anyways i'm on my 15 minute break now!!!

[yurimother]

Yuri Anime Review - Whisper Me a Love Song Series Premiere

A delightful school romance that captures unfettered joy and attraction

2023 was nothing short of an incredible year for Yuri anime, packed with an astonishing lineup of new offerings, including Yuri Is My Job!, Stardust Telepath, The Vexations of a Shut-In Vampire Princess, I’m in Love with a Villainess, my personal favorite, the runaway success that was The Magical Revolution Of the Reincarnated Princess and the Genius Young Lady and of course the continuation and conclusion of the surprise Yuri sci-fi Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury. Whisper Me a Love Song has the unenviable task of following up and providing a cap on this unprecedented boom of Yuri anime. The adaptation of Eku Takeshima’s high school romance manga was initially announced alongside many of the aforementioned works. However, it ended up being delayed from its initial January debut for various reasons, not the least of which was the switch in directors from Xin Ya Cai to Akira Mano.

Further compounding the pressure on this series is the comparisons it will draw to Bloom Into You, one of the most beloved and well-received Yuri series of all time. Now, these comparisons are mostly unfair, as Bloom Into You had the mighty weight of Kadokawa’s marketing behind it, although, to be fair, Whisper Me a Love Song’s campaign has been no slouch. Moreover, the two series are very different, save for their shared high school setting and Yuri romance. Bloom Into You was a slow-burn romance that leaned into shounen drama, while Whisper Me a Love Song takes a noticeably lighter tone and incorporates more slice of life elements. It does not help that the Whisper Me a Love Song manga debuts the same year that Bloom Into You concluded its serialized run and would go on to replace the latter as the top Yuri series in many audiences’ eyes, and for myself, would go onto fill the same niche of an extended high school romance. All this is to say that the expectations around Whisper Me a Love Song are unreasonably mammoth. However, the anime’s debut episode assured us that we are in for a warm and harmonious display of young love.

The Welcome Concert

The show begins as Himari Kino (Hana Shimano) wakes up for her first day of high school. At a welcome ceremony for new students, she witnesses the light music club band, SSGIRLS, perform their song "Humming Love,” and the temporary lead vocalist, Yori Asanagi (Asami Seto), instantly enchants her. This scene catalyzes the series’ ongoing story and helps highlight some of the most critical aspects and features of this adaptation: the music and the animation. 

Whisper Me a Love Song does not set the world on fire visually, boasting animation that, at its best moments, can be described as “pretty good.” Yet, it does more than a serviceable job, smartly utilizing its resources and clever framing that keeps the viewer’s attention and makes the story easy to follow while saving on animation. There are some flaws, such as stiffer animation during dialogue-heavy scenes and the noticeable use of 3D CGI elements for background characters and objects, like flower petals. However, these do not distract from the narrative nor detract from one’s enjoyment. However there are positives as well to point out here.

For one, the series does a fantastic job with its lighting, applying generous highlights to characters’ faces and hair, enhancing their features, and preventing them from coming across visually as flat or simplistic. The frequent use of a light, soft background that bathes the subjects in a warm glow matches this choice, and they work together in tandem to help convey the anime’s light and happy tone. The anime occasionally employs this lighting to accentuate story beats, such as when Yori peaks through the curtain at the crowd, casting most of her body in shadow as she worries about performing in front of such a large crowd.

This welcome ceremony has noticeably different animation than the rest of the episode. Here, the members of SSGIRLS are injected with an electric sense of movement, playing their instruments with enthusiasm and energy that honestly felt jarring when compared to the more limited shorts of Himari reacting to the performance. Given its importance in the story and the fact that the anime reuses this scene for the opening theme, it is clear why the animation was given more attention and resources. However, and I am likely in the minority here, I actually dislike it for this reason. The heavily referenced footage stands out a bit too much, especially given that it is intercut with more straightforward static shots of Himari, creating a jarring effect that pulls focus away from the characters and their feelings.

The Musical Advantage

Where the series did not disappoint me is musically. In recent years, Yuri works have drawn more and more from musical-themed settings, including Hello, Melancholic!, The Moon on a Rainy Night, and Amongst Us, not to mention the myriad of “Yuri-ish” musical series. However, the apparent disconnect is that manga and webtoons are visual mediums devoid of sound and score. While some titles, such as  After Hours and The Guy She Was Interested in Wasn’t a Guy at All, mitigate this flaw by releasing companion playlists or soundtracks, it is not the same as incorporating the music into the product itself.

Here, Whisper Me a Love Song’s jump to animation truly adds to the experience, elevating it above its source material. Himari’s instantaneous infatuation is so much more believable when we, the viewers, can experience the music alongside her; her “loving” obsession with Yori made that much more real because we also hear the upperclassman’s performance, provided by Kana Sasakura’s wonderful singing voice. Studios Cloud Hearts and Yokohama Animation Laboratory are, of course, aware of music’s central role in the story and have done it justice, giving the fictitious SSGirls multiple chances to shine, not just in the episode itself but also in performing the opening theme, “Follow Your Arrows.”

Returning to the episode, after the welcome ceremony, Himari runs into Yori and begins to fangirl over her, confessing that she “fell in love at first sight.” Yori is stunned by this sudden confession and taken with Himari’s cuteness and openness. After confiding in her bandmates, she realizes that she has fallen in love, much to the other’s delight.

Supporting Characters Steal the Show

These conversations are excellent, as they give us the chance to get to see more of the series’ other characters. Like the original manga, Whisper Me a Love Song has a terrific supporting cast that adds to the humor and drama. Each of the other characters has a striking, unique design and personality that helps them stand out, like the drummer Mari, who is slightly more stoic and comes from a wealthy family. She is contrasted well by the playing keyboardist, Kaori, who often flirts and teases Mari. Siblings Miki and Aki act as the best friends of the lead characters, usually providing them guidance and encouragement. Each girl excels on screen thanks to some stand-out writing and performance. While each is different from the others,, they all have one unifying characteristic: their encouragement and excitement for Yori and Himari, which is infection, making us want to root for them, too. The lone exception is Aki, who herself harbors feelings for Yori, which will come into play in future episodes.

I like these supporting characters even more than I did in the manga, thanks in no small part to Minami Yoshida's fantastic work adapting Eku Takeshima’s characters to the screen. They capture each character perfectly; Himari is cute, ditzy, and full of adoring exuberance. Yori’s appearance portrays her as cool and elegant, but her movements and posture help convey her more anxious and apprehensive nature. And, of course, each of their friends is striking and memorable, and their depiction matches their personality. For example, Mari is prim and proper, weaning her uniform and hair unadulterated from modification and maintaining a hardened, no-nonsense expression. However, Kaori has a more rounded, goofier face, complete with a dopey smile and a bright yellow hoodie, betraying her more playful personality.

Rooftop Romances

The episode's high points come in its second half, two scenes on the rooftop with Himari and Yori alone. The first begins with Yori singing as she thinks about Himari and her confusing feelings for her, while unbeknownst to Yori, Himari walks upstairs thinking about Yori’s singing. It is an excellent reflection of the central conflict these two will face in their upcoming “romance,” the fact that their feelings of love for each other are different, with Yori’s being a more mature romantic attraction and Himari’s a child-like obsession for the older girl’s singing.

Put plainly, it is beautiful, showcasing the best singing we hear from Yori, a light, melodic hum, and some of the best emotional work of the episode as she makes sense of her feelings. Unfortunately, this scene also showcases Whisper Me a Love Song’s weakest aspect, its pacing.

The rhythm of the manga was already a frustrating issue, as it both fussed about with little for extended stretches and introduced and resolved conflicts with little time for rumination or exploration. This issue is only exacerbated by the anime’s truncated story. The first episode alone covers two and a half chapters of the manga and sees Yori change her emotional state about a half dozen times, first being anxious about singing, then confused by her feelings for Himari, then realizing she might be in love, confessing that love, feeling the embarrassment of her misunderstanding, and at last confirming that she is in love with Himari and vowing to make the other girl recognize and reciprocate her feelings. It is less of an emotional rollercoaster and more of a rapid, rambling barrage of issues and feelings that have no time to breathe or create any real impact in the story. I wished they had spent a few episodes playing out this arc, letting Yori slowly come to terms with these new feelings of love for Himari and working to overcome her trepidation surrounding them.

After plotting with her friends how to make Himari fall for her, the episode ends as Yori walks up to the roof to find Himari already waiting for her, a nice flip on the previous rooftop scene. There, Himari requests Yori sing for her, which she does. It is an exceptional sequence. The characters' feelings and differing attractions for each other come across so clearly. Himari is so visibly excited to hear Yori sing, and the older girl has such a wonderful mix of cool and collected affection and awkwardness that you cannot help but smile while watching it. Both girls have such a warm, gentle, and loving disposition, perfectly matched by the soft orange sky and quiet, empty rooftop. As Yori sings, the perspective shifts and employs some scenic Yuri, focusing on the sky and indirect views of each character until finally settling back on Himari’s blushing, glowing face from Yori’s perspective, a perfect encapsulation of the adoring girl that she has fallen in love with.

Conclusion

I am so happy with Whisper Me a Love Song. The anime did everything it needed to, from maintaining the manga’s fun, light tone of young love to adding excellent music that helps you understand how these characters became drawn to one another. It has flaws, with middling animation quality and an unfortunate dedication to the poor pacing and speed of the manga. Nevertheless, these do not distract from an overall adorable and fun experience. Most importantly, the anime nails the excitement, affectionate, and intense joyfulness of its two characters and their love for each other. I cannot wait to enjoy every second of their relationship and confidently declare that this Yuri series is an easy recommendation, untainted by the usual list of qualifications or warnings I am usually required to make. Whisper Me a Love Song is just a sweet, simple, and delightful school romance that you should absolutely watch. 

Ratings: Story – 8 Characters – 10 Art – 6 LGBTQ – 9 Sexual Content – 0 Music – 7 Final – 8

You can stream Whisper Me a Love Song with English subtitles on HIDIVE.

This review is made possible by Avery Riehl and the rest of the YuriMother Patrons. Support the Patreon today for early access, exclusive content, and to help fund LGBTQ+ content.

#yuri #lgbt #girls love #lgbtq #gl #queer #gay #lesbian #anime #manga #reviews #Whisper Me a Love Song #Yuri Anime

[luimagines]

Two in a Bush

Another commission!

They asked for Reader getting separated in a dungeon and Wild panics to find them. :D 

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Wild wasn’t sure what to expect of a place like this.

He didn’t have anything like this in his world. He had the Divine Beasts that he had to figure out but those were giant mechanical weapons. Not some fortress that had a hidden secret at the end. 

Comparing the two- he supposes they aren’t all that different. From the monsters, to the puzzles, to even the multiple floors for a few of them, Wild could confidently say that he still had no idea what he was doing. Luckily, many of the others seemed to have more than enough practice and experience to go around. Wild was more than happy to leave the spearheading to them.

It gave him an excuse to look after you instead.

You were a special circumstance amongst this group of heroes. It caught Wild’s attention in more ways than one.

It was just unfortunate that you had zero fighting experience like the rest of them. Not that he personally considered it a fault of yours, don’t misunderstand him, but the idea of being with a group that does nothing but fight without being able to fight didn’t sit right with him. Granted, he was happy and delighted by the idea that you came from a place where you could live normally. It made him jealous in a good way. He wanted that for himself as well- but you would have had it from the beginning and that’s something that he knew he would never achieve.

However this also meant that they would have to be on the lookout for you specifically. Without any knowledge of how to properly defend yourself, it meant that they would have to pick up the slack.

Not that they would ever phrase it that way and much less to your face. Wild had thought that he could take the opportunities to look cooler and more heroic in an attempt to catch your attention but even he knew that it was a fool’s dream to picture it that way… That didn’t stop him from day dreaming though.

Regardless, he stuck by your side as the group explored the dungeon, sword at the ready and willing to defend you if needed.

You seemed content to explore the dungeon just like the rest of them, keeping pace and looking around with childlike wonder on your face. It made Wild smile.

Suddenly, the group was attacked.

Everyone sprang into action, Wild included to take down the threats in the new room. While there was usually only a handful per section, this room had an unusually high amount of monsters. It took all hands on deck to diminish the threat and clear the area before they could continue exploring.

Wild was lucky enough to stay behind the larger hoard of monsters, shooting at the threats to help his brother before they broke the line. He switched to his sword and charged ahead, slashing the threats along with the others until there weren’t any left. Tired, but relieved, Wild turned back to you with a smile on your face.

But you were nowhere to be seen.

His heart dropped and so did his sword from his hand. The metal clang echoed in the room. “Guys?”

Many turned their heads to him. 

Wild looked back to the group asking for where you were, prompting them to look around the room as well. Wild didn’t like the looks on their faces as they came to the same conclusion they did.

“Where did they go?” Wind scratched the top of their head.

“Were they pushed out of the room?” Twilight stood straighter, jogging to the entrance for a better look.

Hyrule followed the Rancher without missing a beat. “If they didn’t, then we have a bigger problem on our hands than any puzzle we can find in this dungeon.”

Wild could feel his anxiety rise within him. You were right there. How could he lose you? There’s still more monsters to go through. You can’t fight them. You can’t. He needs to find you. He needs to find you now.

“Oh hello.” Legend whistles, calling the attention of the others. “Champion, were you over here at first?”

Wild turns around and nods. “Yeah, I tried to keep them here so they wouldn’t be cornered so easily if they had to run.”

He doesn’t like the look on Legend’s face. There’s a panel on the wall but Wild didn’t think much of it at first.

Legend points to it. “Who wants to bet they’re on the other side?”

“What?” Warrior furrows his eyebrows. “What does a weird wall with a human shape have to do with-”

Legend grins and places himself in the human imprint. The wall spins suddenly with a quiet whirr and returns to its original position. Without Legend in it.

Wild doesn’t want to waste any time. He runs to the panel despite the cries of the other boys, too in shock over Legend’s disappearance to stop him from doing the same. He places his back to the metal and gasps as it spins just as it did for the Veteran.

He comes face to face with another room entirely and takes a step away. The wall stays the same. 

Legend dusts himself as he takes in the new room. He’s looking at the map they collected earlier, trying to figure out where they go and where this would lead. He’s scratching the side of his head, pushing his hat to a dangerous edge where it could fall off with one movement. He looks perplexed. He doesn’t seem to like what he’s seeing. Wild doesn’t want to think about going into uncharted waters and what that could mean for you.

Wild scans the room as well. There’s some more monster hidden in the shadows to his left and there’s a deadend to his right. In front of him, there is a hallway just beyond the room but there’s another exit just ahead of the monsters.

The monsters notice him and begin to make their way closer to the duo. The wall behind them spins again, signaling the arrival of a third member but Wild pays no attention to it.

He still can’t find you so he takes off running, picking a random exit in hopes that it leads him to where you could be. How far could you get in such a short time? Surely he could catch up in time before something happens, right?

He hears the Four call after him but he pays no mind to it. Footsteps begin to echo behind him along with the muffled cries of the monsters as they were shot on sight.

Wild takes a deep breath and looks around. He finds a new spot but there’s still no sign of you, even as he desperately begins to call for your name. There’s more monsters in this new room and he’s quick to deal with them. His building panic and frustration adds fuel to the fire as he channels it into a quiet rage to kill the offending beasts.

Once the room is empty, it remains empty. Not wanting to waste any more time, Wild turns on his heels and runs out as fast as his feet can carry him. 

He’s already lost. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where the others are, nor does he hear them anymore. His breath is the only sound to surround him. It comes out haggard and stunted. He coughs- feeling a drop of saliva attempt to go down the wrong pipe.

Wild whips his head up, not bothering to continue catching his breath. He starts running again, finding a new path into a new room. There’s more monsters and he deals with them as quickly as the prior ones. 

Panic has fully set into his bones as each turn produces more and more failure.

Tears well up in eyes and in his frustration, Wild punches the wall. He hurts his hands more than he hurts the wall.

As in response, he hears a sound. It’s muffled and faint, but he can hear the familiar cry of rage and determination just beyond the bricks and mortar. It’s a battle cry.

It sounds like you.

Spurred on by the sound, Wild goes on the attack. He beats the wall with everything he has before the ground beneath him gives way. He tumbles and instinctually tucks himself into a ball. Wild wraps his arms around his head and uses his legs to try and gain control of his graceless descent. He eventually comes to a grinding halt and he unfurls himself from the positions he’s put himself in.

He is only inches away from the edge of what appears to be a cliff. His heart jumps at the sight as he rolls away.

Wild, remembering why he had tried to get through the wall to begin with, pushes himself to his feet.

A monster cries before it dies, quickly followed by more and more sounds of pain and anger. Another battle cry rings out, this time much more clear than what Wild had heard previously. 

It is most definitely you.

Wild looks over the edge hesitantly. It would be great if he had finally found you… But it would be a hit to his psyche if he were to see you in battle. He’s afraid of what he might see. Are you hurt? Are you terrified?

He looks over anyway.

Instead of terror, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that same determined look on your face that he’s seen on so many other faces. Your eyebrows are closely knit together and there’s a glint in your eyes that he’s never seen before.

They’re hardened and sharp. There’s an ax in your hand that you no doubt stole from one of the monsters you must have come across. You look angry and there’s multiple splatters of blood over your clothes and exposed skin. The fabric that covers sticks to your body from the sweat you’ve produced from the intensity you’ve put into defending yourself. 

Wild finds himself glued to your figure. You fight ferociously even though your lack of training is evident. He watches you with his jaw agape and his hand on the handle of the sheikah slate. He’s entranced. This is hot.

The sheikah makes the familiar sound of a picture being taken before he reaches for his bow. From above, he aims for the monsters that come against you. His attacks throw the monsters into confusion as they search for the second hidden threat. The distraction gives you the perfect opportunity to strike them back and finish them off.

Once the last of the monsters has fallen, its body fallen beside the others, you take the last remaining part of your sleeve and wipe your forehead. You smear the blood splotches over your cheek in the process. Wild takes another picture. You look up, using your hand to try and block out any competing light and see him.

Wild snaps one more picture, hoping that it catches the way you instantly relax and smile up at him. He hopes he catches the way your eyes light up at the sight of him and the way you’ve held the weapon high in the air in greeting, making it look more like a victory stance over your enemies. He waves back enthusiastically. He’s never felt more proud in his life. “You did it!”

“Link!” You cry back and drop the weapon. You run close to the cliff, craning your neck to your sight on him. “You found me!”

Maybe you didn’t hear him.

Wild shakes his head affectionately and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t see your eyebrows furrow again or the confused tilt to your head. Instead, Wild takes a running leap and jumps off of the cliff. He opens up the paraglider and uses it to glide down safely to where you stand.

You run to him before he hits the ground, nearly tackling him as he lands. Wild wraps his arms around you instinctually, calming his pounding heart now that you’ve returned safely to his arms. You take in a shuddering breath and tuck your face into the crook of his neck. You feel inclined to repeat yourself. “You found me.”

“I wouldn’t stop searching until I did.” Wild whispers. He pulls back and wipes the remaining blood off of your face. “What happened? How did you end up here?”

You smile sheepishly and scratch the back of your neck. “During that first fight, I got pushed back far enough into the wall. It spun around and next thing I knew, I was in another room. I saw the monsters on the far end and figured that it would be better to not be spotted. I snuck out and only ran into more monsters so I kept going. Next thing I know I ended up down here and couldn’t not fight back.”

“Where did you even get the ax?”

“I stole it.”

Wild snickers and finally lets you go. His hands rest on your shoulders, rubbing them affectionately. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

You grin in return, putting on a smirk. “I just pretended they were customers on Black Friday. I’ve always wanted to fend them off with a stick.”

He has no idea what that means. “Ok- but you had an ax and they were monsters.”

“...High stakes Black Friday shoppers.”

Wild hangs his head in defeat. He tries his hardest to not laugh at your facial expression. It seems as if you know what you’re talking about at least, so it’s a small comfort. “Alright. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Are the others waiting for us?” You take his hand, stepping in time with him as he takes a good look around this new area. For the better part, it looks like a ditch with no way in or out- except for above.

“Sooomething like that.” Wild chews on his lip, switching to his climbing gear. He picks you up with zero hesitation, throwing you onto his back and he begins to scale the wall. You yelp and shriek, hitting his back as he climbs.

“Hey! A warning would have been great!”

“Hang on. I got this.”

“...Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

You snort. He’s ignoring your tone on purpose. Slowly, you adjust yourself on his back so you don’t fall off and wait until he’s reached the top. Once he lets you down, you smack the back of his head.

He blocks it effortlessly, leaning in instead to kiss your cheek. There’s laughter on his breath as he checks you out once more.  “I hope you're ready for a lot of walking. I’ll have you know that we are very lost.”

“Are we?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Oh.” You think for a moment and look back at Wild. You end up chewing on your lip as well. “Are we in trouble?”

“You? No. Me? Most definitely.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #lu wild #the title was a placeholder #and it stuck #it has nothing to do with the story ^.^*

[captainlilyuniverseworld]

The Willingly Unwilling

A/N: This was meant to be a short thing about Astarion using the invisiblity spell for innapropiate means, and delved into an Ascended Astarion, Consort Gale situation

The Willingly Unwilling

“I’m bored.” 

“So you’ve said.” 

“Aren’t you going to do something about it?” 

“I am slightly busy if you hadn’t noticed,” Gale motioned to the books strewn about the table. The parchment filled with his scrawl. The various ingredients. 

Astarion came up behind him and put his hands on his shoulder, slowly he ran them down the length of Gale’s chest, nails scraping the thin material of his shirt. 

“I’m all for having a hobby pet, it’s good to keep yourself occupied but as I said. I. Am. Bored,” he leaned over Gale now, chest pressed against the wizard's back. 

Gale shivered and spread his legs almost automatically as the vampire’s fingers began to knead the flesh of his thighs through his linen pants. 

“I’m nearly finished,” Gale licked his lips. “You promised-” 

“Agreed.” 

“Promised,” Gale repeated. “That I could have time out of the day to do what I wanted, and you would let me.” 

Astarion huffed. “You were playing dirty when I agreed to that.”

“You didn’t agree, you promised,” Gale reached for his quill. “And I’m almost done. We can do whatever you want after I finish.” 

“Perhaps it’s good I didn’t make any more spawn,” Astarion sat back but scraped Gale’s scalp with his nails. “Your stubbornness might rub off on them.” 

Gale leaned his head back at the touch and felt the cold press of lips, sharp fangs along the column of his throat. They were dragged teasingly against the skin before Astarion severed all contact. 

“Fine. I’ll find some other way to entertain myself,” Astarion left the room and Gale rubbed the back of his neck.  

He waved his hand and the door shut behind him. A quick flick of his wrist and a muttered spell and the doors lockeded. Astarion’s displeasure is palpable. 

Gale set the quill down and runs a hand through his hair. He’d lost track of how much time had passed, how long they’d been together in this, gods whatever it was. Everything leading to now felt as if it’d happened simultaneously merely weeks ago as opposed to months, when he first agreed to visit Astarion, to the newly named Ancunin Palace. Astarion had taken a gleeful delight yanking the plaque that adorned the large columns outside the iron gates and breaking it over his knee. 

When Gale had first arrived the palace was nearly stripped bare from the inside. 

“I can’t very well cement my place if everything reeks of old,” Astarion had told him. “So, I gathered everything that belonged to Cazador, minus the jewels and the gold, took it all outside and burned it.” 

Astarion hummed. “I even dusted off a few bottles of wine and enjoyed the little bonfire with a drink or two.” 

“Out with the old, in with the new as they say, no?” 

“Exactly!” Astarion whirled around and grinned at him. “When I said I was going to be better than Cazador, I meant it in every possible way. Just because we are the undead does not mean we must live and dress the part. He had no real sense of taste the more I thought about it.” 

“Astarion, why am I here?” Gale tried not to watch as a servant carried an armful of bloody bedding. 

“Because I asked you to come,” Astarion answered. 

“Yes, I understand, but your letter said that you needed something from me. Help or…or-”

“Help?” Astarion cocked his head to the side. “Nowhere in my letter did I state I needed help.” 

“Assistance then,” Gale replied. 

“Mmm no, no assistance, I’ve plenty of thralls roaming the halls,” Astarion mused. “I don’t need help and I don’t need assistance.” 

“Then why am I here?” Gale tried again. 

“Because I want you here,” Astarion had said. “Because I want your company. Because I want to talk to you, watch you. See you. We are friends, aren’t we Gale?” 

And Gale, like the fool he was, took his words at face value. He tried to keep his visit short, but then Astarion would look at him with those eyes. He’d pour Gale another glass of wine, or brandy, or tea. 

He’d find another book in the palace’s vast library. 

“When I saw it, I wondered how long it’d take you to read every single volume,” Astarion mused. 

The second time he tried to leave, citing his work and his research and wanting to write down his account of their journey Astarion had given him the office with the elevator. 

“I have no use for it,” Astarion shrugged, holding out the key. “Consider it yours to do with as you see fit. No one but you and I shall have the keys.” 

“Are you quite sure?” Gale asked. 

“Of course,” Astarion smiled. “I want you to enjoy yourself while you are here….You are enjoying yourself aren’t you?” 

“I am,” Gale answered.

Read More

#baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #astarion ancunin #gale x astarion #bloodweave #bg3 #gale dekarios #fanfic #dark fic #ascended astarion #dark consort gale #game spoilers #manipulation #unhealthy relationships #not quite dead dove but borderline

[unseemingowl]

Saga Anderson, and Nordic rep in Alan Wake 2

Early on in Saga Anderson’s exploration in Alan Wake 2, she runs into Ilmo Koskela. Fiercely proud of his Finnish heritage, Ilmo gregariously makes note of Saga’s Nordic sounding name and the familiar design of her knitted sweater. Perhaps a fellow Finn?

Alas no, Saga’s mom is Swedish she informs him. Immediately Ilmo’s face falls. I’m not sure if it’s actually just the animated character defaulting to his resting face, but either way the timing is too perfect. Cue uproarious laughter from me. People in the Nordics are on friendly terms of course, but we gotta have the tiniest bit of… scornfor each other. All in good fun of course. It’s traditional.

Now, I’m Danish, not Finnish, but still, I feel right at home in the towns of Bright Falls and Watery in Alan Wake 2. All of the little nods to Nordic culture and mindset feel so wonderfully familiar to me. The melancholia, the irreverent sense of humor, the affection for the Finnish and Swedish quirks of the characters. The game feels all the stronger in tone and narrative for Remedy embracing the Finnish roots of the studio.

Which is exactly why it sucks that I almost immediately saw the charm of those narrative decisions weaponised against Saga.

I first watched the scene between Ilmo and Saga on a lets play when I was trying to figure out if I should finally dip my toes into survival horror and buy the game. Delighted by the writing I took a look into the comments to see if people were vibing as hard with it as I was. They were. But I also saw a comment that made me frown.

Paraphrasing, it basically went, come on, like hell a guy like Ilmo would make the assumption that a black woman is Finnish. There are a multitude of reasons why I think that person was wrong, mainly that Nordic people love it when we run into each other in other countries, but it also just made me sad.

Saga being black does not negate her Swedish heritage. Formally, she is American, sure (I assume, not sure how that works in the US), but she’s raised by her single Swedish mom, of course she’s going to identify heavily with that part of her herself. It’s a profound and essential part of who she is.

But hey, I’m a white potato Dane, so I’m not gonna argue that I know much about the experience of being biracial. I’m gonna stick to what I know, which is that Saga is a very moving and beautiful example of something that I’m actually not used to seeing much of - a story about connecting with your Nordic heritage and roots. And it’s part of why I love her so much.

When Nordic people show up in big, international productions, it’s usually as Vikings, and sure, it’s fun to see our wild ancestors, but contemporary questions of Nordic identity and heritage is not something I often see explored. Not even in our own productions.

So much of Saga’s story is about family. Fighting for her current one, Logan and Casey (and sure, David too, lol), and rediscovering her first one. Tor and Odin.

Her discovering her ties to Tor and Odin is profoundly moving and made me teary-eyed several times over. And sure, a lot of those ties are fantastical in nature, but they still feel very much grounded - and what makes us Nordic if not the ties to our myths and legends that Tor and Odin have made themselves the living avatars of.

While Saga’s mom, Freya, had good reasons for leaving the Anderson seer magics behind, seeing them as part of what made her family fucked up, she also cut Saga off from the fullness of her capabilities. It is only through Saga reforming her family, healing its scars and fully embracing the Anderson heritage that she becomes as powerful a parautilitarian as she is at the end of the game. That’s beautiful.

And in fact I think Saga being black only deepens the richness of those themes rather than negate them or make them irrelevant. Because yes, Saga’s story would have been moving if she was a white character too, but I am very well aware that a lot of biracial people of Nordic ancestry can feel alienated from that part of themselves. Not least because questions of who gets to claim a Nordic heritage can get pretty ugly around here. There are most definitely people who share the racist mindset of that commentator. It adds an extra dimension. Which is why seeing Tor and Odin’s eagerness to claim Saga as part of the Anderson heritage is all the more moving. Through her magics, she’s just so obviously an Anderson, and they’re so damn proud to call her theirs and fight alongside her. Because they all got that wild Viking blood in them. They’re part of her and she’s part of them.

Roger Ebert, the film critic once called movies empathy machines. I think games, when they’re at their best, can be an even more intense variation of that. Which is exactly why it baffles me that some people can play through Alan Wake 2 and still think Saga is a stunt-woke character rather than someone fully and beautifully integrated in the narrative. A narrative which, at its most basic level – in my opinion – is about the mystical bonds we form with each other and the rest of the world through art and love and blood and family and heritage. All the great horror doesn’t negate that either, it amplifies it. Kind of like that clicker.

#I really didn’t mean to write like… a fucking essay #so this is probably gonna flop #but I love Saga so much #and as a Scandinavian woman #I feel so seen by her #and I hate that people are being so vile about her character #Saga Anderson #Alan Wake 2

[ingravinoveritas]

irvinis replied to your post “Thinking about the photo from tonight, i almost…”

@ingravinoveritas this may be fanon (canon created by fans), but it fits so well into the daddy/boy dynamic. Michael comes to David's performances with his doors wide open, wearing his best sweater (or baring his arms) and giving a standing ovation: THIS IS MY BOY! And David makes his way to Michael’s performances, wrapped in a scarf up to his eyebrows and sighs quietly in delight from an inconspicuous place in the corner.

@irvinis Ohh...this is tickling a very specific part of my brain. Oh, I love this. In the past I didn't usually go for the daddy/boy dynamic with Michael and David (because I've always seen their relationship as one of equals/switches), but this absolutely fits them like a freaking glove.

We have the picture Georgia posted of David all wrapped up exactly like that, so right away that gives us a visual:

And what you've described goes perfectly with what we saw when Michael went to see Macbeth in December--that white-bright moment of Michael gazing up at David from the audience, and David looking right back at him, captured forever on film and in our hearts. That, in contrast with last night, with David quietly going to the show and doing everything to keep the focus on Michael. David waiting until the lights have dimmed and all eyes are on the stage to let out that little sigh, feeling a shiver of unrestrained happiness work its way through his body as he watches, enraptured, as Michael does the thing he does best.

It's also interesting how this potentially ties into Michael not doing the matinee today. I know we could say it's because he's still recovering from being sick (and that would certainly make sense), but I love the thought that Michael sat out so many performances earlier in the week to make sure he had his strength specifically for last night's performance, because he knew David was coming and wanted to do a good job for him.

I could also see David going to Michael's dressing room after (with thanks to @greeneyed-thestral for planting the seed of that lovely idea) and seeing Michael all enthralled with a post-show high from performing, yet still anxious about how things went--worrying if he was on key for the musical number, if he missed any cues. I can see David slowly backing Michael into the mirror without a word, until the lights frame Michael like a halo. He takes off his ball cap and unravels his scarf in an elegant heap on the dresser, revealing himself, both of them now bare and vulnerable. David grasps either side of Michael's face in his hands, thumb tracing over the crow's feet at the side of Michael's eyes, and smiles softly. He kisses Michael, mouths opening just slightly as the kiss deepens and their tongues meet. Kisses him long enough to quiet Michael's mind, to get the overthinking voice inside to stop.

He is quiet, this David. Always making himself smaller to fit in rooms within rooms, hiding away, keeping the peace. Until Michael. Michael, who somehow had the key to every door. Something in David expands, becomes louder, growing to more than his slender frame could seem to handle, and he pours it into that kiss. A mark of this moment, of Michael bathed in light, of the two of them together and David silently saying, we are here. We are together and I am going to take care of you now.

Oh, yes...I could certainly see that happening. Thank you so much for this delicious prompt on a Saturday morning...

#irvinis #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #why does this seem so plausible though #Michael's breath catching in his throat at the kiss #sliding an arm around David's waist to steady himself #both knowing exactly what the other one needs #they are perfect together your honor #fanfic ideas a-brewin' #fanfic #good omens rpf #yes to all of the above #ineffable lovers #discourse

[punks-never-die205]

Many people prefer Law over Kid viewing him as more attractive 🥴. What makes Kid in my eyes much more attractive is his passion and temper. While Law is kinda cold and distant with a low sexdrive Kid is very loving, affectionate and likes to show it. He enjoys showing his emotions through his body and sexuality. This makes him incredibly hot in my eyes 🔥🔥🔥

Those are very interesting head canons for those two characters \o/

I think one of the best parts about One Piece is that the cast is so vast there is always *someone* a person can connect with - in a lot of different ways too!

The other great part is that Oda’s continued insistence to avoid much canon romance is that it makes a MASSIVE playground for everyone to have fun in.

Sex god Eustass and awkward, easily flustered Eustass are both valid (and both plausible within the same head canon, people are complex like that!)

Awkward, nerd Law who can’t game his way out of a wet paper bag isn’t necessarily exclusive from dom Law who has your face buried in the mattress singing his praises like he’s your savior and this submarine is church.

But they can be \o/

I love no rizz nerd Law who talks about his figurines for three hours before your first kiss, and I love quiet and calculating Law who is walking you into his room so easily you think it was all your game. >.>

I love awkward virgin Kid, cumming in his pants when he makes you moan, promising he has stamina to keep going, and the King of Kink Kid who has you speaking in tongues before he’s even started prepping you.

In the end I just want peeps to enjoy their head canons and stories and day dreams without feeling like everyone has to agree with them for it to be valid. Variety is the delight of living and creating \o/

So delight in it and keep creating 🥰❤️😍

#eustass kid #quin answers #side blog #anon asks #trafalgar law #head canons

[mslanna]

Maybe something about Raphael reacting to Haarlep reading through his diary/journal (this is why you give your incubus enrichment, folks!) and the incubus pointing out the frequency a certain 'little mouse' seems to be appearing as the subject in his writings? Heck, maybe Haarlep even tries to convince Raphael to let them obtain Tav's form so that the cambion can indulge in his little mouse whenever he wants.

What is says on the bos sfw kinda Read it on AO3

Depleted

"How often did I tell you not to do this?" Raphael plucked his diary from Haarlep's hand.

"As often as you caught me," his personal incubus replied. "Which is way not as often as I did it."

They leant back lasciviously, presenting a world of possibilities their master. As usual, Raphael barely noticed. The cambion was more concerned with the content of his diaries. Well, at least this time Haarlep had refrained from drawing naughty sketches into it.

"You really shouldn't leave them lying about like that. It's clearly an invitation." Not that Raphael would notice an invitation if he saw one. Haarlep dialled back the preening and offering. Such a spoilsport and killjoy.

"It was locked away in my desk," Raphael admonished.

"Yes, exactly where I know it will be," Haarlep purred. "That is not even trying to keep me away."

"I also told you not to touch it." The cambion's voice turned hard.

"You tell me that about so many things." Haarlep rose. He stepped behind his master, laid his chin on Raphael's shoulders and wrapped his arms around his middle. Their tail settled around his ankle, it's tip slipping up the trouser leg. "And yet, I touch everything. A lot."

Raphael slapped their hands away when they moved towards his crotch. Stuck-up snitch. What was this if not the prefect set-up for a little powerplay? If he'd chose more enjoyable sex, Raphael would, well, enjoy it more. Haarlep was sure of that. They were among the best.

"You like it," they purred into the cambion's ear. "And I know what you like best. If only you'd relax enough for an orgasm that's actually worth my services."

"Away," Raphael huffed. He did learn that a 'get off' had a very different effect on his incubus.

Still, Haarlep did not let go. "Are you pent up for a somebody special maybe? My little brat looking at another little thing scurrying through his life?" He nibbled at Raphael's ear. "I have seen them come up often in your diary. So, so often. Are we pining?"

"They are an investment, nothing more," Raphael replied gruff.

But even in the sharp rejection, Haarlep saw that they had hit a nerve. "Invested in them, are we? How nice. Do they know about your intentions? Beyond a deal?"

"There are no-" Raphael broke off because Haarlep bit him into the neck. Gently, but determined. In the moment of distraction, they sent their hands below his waist, circling over the inside of his thighs.

"Are you thinking of them now?" Haarlep purred. "Of their little mortal hands on your hot infernal skin? The earthy smell of the material plane and its deaths. What sweet words do you want to hear? Or do you prefer sounds of devout supplication? You can have all of it. Right now."

"You are not Tav." Raphael jerked free of their embrace. "Nothing you offer is close-"

"Ha! I knew it. I always do." Haarlep clapped. "How delightful. The high and mighty cambion has fallen for a stinky, mortal mousling! Are they close to falling into your trap? Will you bring them here to play?"

Raphael stayed silent. He thumbed through the diary, frowning at the sketches of dancing imps and almost suggestive flora.

"I can help you, you know?" Haarlep wound back around their master. "They don't seem too eager to deal with you. But I? I can get close, close enough to strip them of anything in your way to their heart. I can even take their form. Wouldn't that please you?"

Haarlep slipped their arms back around Raphael. "I can get them for you. Soft hands and mewling mouth and all. For you. Whenever you want. However you want. With the greatest enthusiasm. Think about it, my little brat. All the fun with none of the vulnerability."

Raphael didn't move. A good sign. He was considering it. Still, in the end, he pried them off and left the boudoir with a huff. But it was a start. A morsel to tempt the eternally uptight cambion into actual fun times.

Maybe they'd finally get something to do in this horrible place. Haarlep was used to being somebody else and despite the public displays, Raphael harboured little self-love. Pleasure was to be had efficiently, quickly, like any other business. The bloody idiot kept his lust pent up just to release it before he exploded. When there was so much more fun to be had.

But that little mouse cropping up in every other diary entry – Raphael hadn't been that obsessed since Hope. And she, well, she was a hopeless case.

Haarlep returned to the bed and pulled another of Raphael's diaries out from under a pillow. The cambion should really stop hiding them in place they were certain to find them. They'd see to it that they'd get that little mouse's form for their collection – one way or another. If only to scrounge an ounce of emotion out of Raphael for once.

#bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x haarlep #bg3 fanfiction #sleazy second-hand car dealer #anon answered #writing prompt #mel writes fanfic

[galedekarios]

Keeping this anon, but I hear you hate bloodweave. I was curious on your take to why.

You don't have to reply to this if it makes you uncomfortable thought!!

i'd like to preface this again by saying that this is my opinion. idc what you ship.

i've talked about this here, but i don't mind reiterating my points:

they have no chemistry, to the contrary, gale shuts him down right away during their first talk and ast*rion's manipulation attempts. i assume that gale sees right through him from the beginning. a lot of people love to hc gale as naive as or as completely taken with ast*rion, but it's the complete opposite. i imagine his many years in waterhavian society made him realise quite quickly what type of person he's dealing with. the relationship they have doesn't progress much from that. by act iii they - at best - begrudgingly tolerate each other.

they are diametrically opposed in the things they value as people as well as their morals. gale is kind-hearted, he approves of helping those in need, children, mothers, slaves, refugees, even the animals you meet in-game. he seeks to avoid bloodshed, approves of letting people who want to pay the party back for their help keep their money and belongings. he seeks knowledge and even power not for selfish reasons or a taste for the darker things, but because he seeks to better their odds of survival against a seemingly invincible foe. ast*rion meanwhile is selfish and cruel and vile. he delights in violence and bloodshed, he finds the struggle of people caught in the crosshairs amusing. he is greedy and short-sighted, seeking power for himself, no matter the cost to others.

they are completely incompatible in terms of what they look for in a relationship and a potential partner. gale wants and needs a deeper connection, a tangling of the souls, and he needs someone to be there for him unequivocally, to love him for who he is as he is. he is not taken in by someone's looks or image they present of themselves, nor does he do hate sex / endless bickering / enemies to fwb / etc.

the first things he cites for trusting the protag are their good actions (helping mirkon, helping arabella, seeking to ease the tension between zevlor and aradin), it's all those things that at first make him trust the protag and later - when they unselfishly offer him help, give him artefacts - makes him fall in love with them. sex and immediate gratification isn't important to him. sex is a component - one way in an array of ways to proclaim love.

for ast*rion, it's manipulation first and his entire romance hinges on that. his partner falling for his looks and his text book manipulation into sex. that's already where this breaks apart for me in terms of this ship because that doesn't work with gale.

add to that ast*rion's cruel remarks about gale's when he is need:

[after gale's background story reveal] You'd have us debate? That Netherese jack-in-the-box should be a blip on the horizon by now!

[after mystra's demands] I can't believe Mystra's demanding Gale sacrifice himself to destroy the Absolute. It's just a waste of a perfectly good cult that we could be controlling. And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.

[at the stormshore tabernacle] Well? Go on, then - it's rude to keep a goddess waiting.

[after orin potentially kidnaps gale] So, we kill Gortash or Gale dies? It's not an easy call. On the one hand, killing Gortash would be fun. On the other, Gale can be very annoying. We should probably save the wizard, though. He does have his moments.

i think it's very clear, given the fact that these reactions range from act i to act iii, that he doesn't give a singular fuck about gale. contrast this to karlach's reactions, or even shadowheart's:

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

(particularly karlach has many reactions like this.)

...unless you play either of them as an origin char and make the most ooc choices, i do not see how this pairing is supposed to work.

additionally, as i've discussed more in my previous post, the parallels people draw between them are shallow at best or can be drawn virtually between any of the other origin companions, or are non-existent at worst. ast*rion having a reading animation that he shares with gale (as halsin and shadowheart do too), or having their tents next to each other (like wyll and gale do in act i) isn't really enough for me.

as i've said previously, i have tried to engage with the pairing because it's sadly inescapable since people often don't bother tagging, but there's nothing except shallow ooc stuff.

#ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: asks #text: personal #meta: mybg3 #bloodweave critical

[youaintnothinbuta]

“I wanna go steady” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: part two to this fic, where Elvis finally asks you to go steady n be his girlfriend

Pairing: Elvis or austin!Elvis x reader

Word count: 1K

Warnings: none! Fluff, maybe typos sorrryyy

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sound of the doorbell echoing through the house sent your heart racing as you rushed downstairs, nearly tumbling down the stairs with the fright it gave you. You reached the bottom step, smoothed out your dress, and took a deep breath to calm your nerves.

You exclaimed a bright “hi” as you swung open the door, and there he was, Elvis, standing before you with that charming smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. He was dressed in a black button up, his hair slicked, his eyes just as piercing as ever. In his hands, he held the most beautiful and enormous bouquet of flowers you'd ever seen, all of them in your favorite shade of pink.

“Hi, baby.” He enveloped you in a warm hug, his arms wrapping around you in a familiar embrace that felt like home. As you leaned into him, he pressed the flowers into your hands, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss.

“Elvis,” you mumbled, kissing him on the jaw, “these are beautiful. Thank you.”

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with affection as he watched you admire the flowers, “you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

“Come,” you pulled him inside, going to search your cabinets for a vase for them. Your parents weren’t home, they went out for dinner, otherwise he would have gone and said hello to them. You rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out a delicate vase from the back of the cupboard. Elvis stood by, covering the countertop with hand to protect your head as you stood.

While arranging the flowers, you discovered a small note hidden among the blooms. You hadn't noticed it before, and your heart skipped a beat as you read the words. He held you from behind, resting his chin in the crook of your neck as you read it.

To the prettiest petal there ever was.

All my love, Elvis.

“Oh, you!” You squealed with delight as you gave him a peck on the lips. “Elvis, you are too sweet.”

He chuckled, his hand resting on the nape of your neck, his touch firm yet calming. “Nonsense,” he whispered, his voice gentle, “now, you ready?”

You gave a satisfied nod, heading for the front door. His tall frame reached out to grab your coat off the hook before you could, wrapping it around you with a gentle touch that sent shivers over your skin.

With a quick peck on the cheek, you shut the front door and headed to his pink Cadillac. The drive to the restaurant was filled with laughter and conversation, the anticipation of the evening ahead palpable in the air between you.

As you arrived at the restaurant, you were greeted by the warm glow of candlelight and the aroma of delicious food wafting through the air. Over dinner, you shared stories and dreams, lost in each other's company as you savored every moment together.

As you sat across from each other, sharing ice cream for dessert, Elvis reached across the table to take your hand in his, clearing his throat.

“Y/n, there's something I-I've been w-wanting to ask you.” His nervous stutter that you adored so much made an appearance, you gave him an encouraging glance.

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his love and affection reflected back at you. “What is it, Elvis?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “I know we've been seeing each other a w-while now, and I ain’t never been happier,” he began, his eyes filled with sincerity. “I wanna go steady, y/n, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, Elvis,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He leaned closer into you, you leaned in too, your lips meeting in a tender kiss.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box and placing it in front of you. “I got you something,” he said, his voice soft.

You opened the box, your breath catching in your throat as you saw the delicate silver bracelet nestled inside. It had a tiny heart-shaped charm with his initials engraved on.

“Elvis, it's beautiful,” you exclaimed, feeling overwhelmed by his generosity.

He took the bracelet from the box, gently fastening it around your wrist as he looked into your eyes. “Like you.”

He looked up at you from your wrist, his thumb reaching out to wipe away a tear that threatened to spill over.

After he paid the bill, he stood up, once again helping your arms into your coat. After dinner, Elvis took you for a leisurely drive, the night sky twinkling overhead the cool breeze brushed your hair back. And as you arrived back at his house, you cuddled up on the couch and watched whatever was on tv for a while, getting cosy. As the night progressed, Elvis felt your lean more on him, yawning, growing tired.

“Let’s get you home so you can get some rest.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

At your home, he walked you to your front door, he kissed you goodnight, his touch lingering on your lips.

“Thank you,” you smiled sleepily, “tonight has been the best night of my life.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” He replied.

"Wait a minute, darlin'," he stopped you, as you turned to go inside. "Turn around for me."

You did, and he unclasped your necklace, slipping a ring off his finger and putting it on the chain. He did it up again, and you felt a little thrill run through you.

"What's this?" you asked, touching the ring.

“Well, you gotta wear my ring around your neck,” he said, his eyes sparkling with romance. "You're special to me, darlin', and I want everyone to know it."

You kissed him one last time, feeling like you were floating on air. You went inside, took off your shoes and coat, and couldn't stop grinning from ear, not even while you were sleeping.

A/N: the little stutter he would get like at the beginning of the 1955 maybellene recording and in that scene in loving you OH MY GOD I love it so much

#Elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis x reader #elvispresley #elvis x y/n #elvis film #army elvis #50s elvis #elvis imagine #elvisaaronpresley #elvis the pelvis #elvis fans #elvis presley x yn #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presely smut #elvis x you #you x elvis presley #yn x elvis presley #elvis x yn #austin butler elvis #austin!elvis fic #austin!elvis x y/n #austin elvis imagine #y/n x elvis #reader x elvis presley #reader x elvis

[cricketnationrise]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks to @cha-melodius, @kiwiana-writes, and @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags!

How many works do you have on ao3?

253

What's your total ao3 word count?

481,635

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB, Check Please!, Tortall, verrrry occassionally The Parasol Protectorate

Top five fics by kudos:

Going Platinum - camboy!Alex AU

Burnin' Through the Sky - speed dating meet-cute

Set in Platinum - camboy!Alex sequel

warm from the inside out - some stuff happens under a desk 😉

Downburst - In The Shadow of Two Gunmen/West Wing AU

Do you respond to comments?

I have responded to every comment so far!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't tend to write angsty endings. That being said, this Check, Please! ficlet I wrote for @shygryf is very angsty: Hotel Room, Mar. 1 (I did fix it with a later ficlet, but on it's own...)

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of them tbh. I'm an unrepentant happy ending lover.

Do you get hate on fics?

Nothing that comes to mind--I've been extremely lucky. I've gotten some baffling ones and some with a strange tone, but I think that's more down to English not being their first language, not hate.

Do you write smut?

Yes.

Craziest crossover:

I tend toward fusions/AUs rather than actual crossovers. Although there are Check Please! easter eggs in the Going Platinum universe.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of, although I would hope that any translator would have let me know so that I can flail in overwhelmed gratitude.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet, although there's one that's been sitting for a year-ish that I'm gonna be really excited to finally get to.

All time favorite ship?

I won't choose and you can't make me.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Not right now. All the wips I've got that are more than just like, one line or a title, I'm really excited about writing and sharing.

What are your writing strengths?

Immersive descriptions, humor, and metaphors. This bitch loves a metaphor.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes. I'm getting better, but any time I have a particularly big action scene I beg on my knees for @cha-melodius to get into the doc.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Only If I feel confident about the translation. I'll usually get a native speaker to check it over if it's more than an easy phrase I already know/can google, especially if it's a whole conversation.

First fandom you wrote in?

Check, Please!

Favorite fic you've written?

You're so mean to me making me pick. Le sigh, fine.

Check, Please!: How Delightful if that Were True - Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society AU (100% homegrown epistolary baybee)

RWRB: More Than Brick and Mortar - sentient Brownstone AU, magical realism

Tortall: i'll rise up in spite of the ache - hockey AU of First Test

Parasol Protectorate: No Small Matter - 5+1 pranks on Conall that I wrote for @homobiwan

(narrowing these down was absolute agony, btw. hope you're happy.)

Tags under the cut, but if you wanna do this, who am I to stop you? Aka consider this your open tag.

@celeritas2997 @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @anincompletelist

@firenati0n @missanniewhimsy @montrealmadison @doggernaut @parvuls

#cricket writes #writer games #20 questions #rwrb #omgcp #tortall #parasol protectorate #check please #personal faves