Tumgik
#and then i was looking around and there was a goddess statue and i had enough orbs so i was like yeah sure i'll get another heart
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You always knew that your husband would fulfill your every wish. He just loved you so, so much! He always listened to you and tried to make you happy. Sometimes you joked that he was obsessed with you, like a fanatic is obsessed with his god, but Satoru just smiled innocently at you and winked, playfully asking what you would do if it turned out to be true.
So when you asked him to participate in the "long role-playing game", he couldn't refuse you.
You had a vacation, but you didn't want to just go somewhere and relax. You wanted to have fun with your husband and maybe remember why you fell in love with him. Pretending to be strangers was too boring, so you remembered all the internet stories you read and suggested that Satoru pretend to be yandere.
"You can 'kidnap' me and keep me in one of your family's estates. You will play the role of someone who is obsessed with me and deeply in love, and I will try to escape and save myself, but in the end I will fall in love with you."
Satoru looked at you for a long time, then smiled and nodded. "That's a great idea, my dear!" You giggled at the way his heavenly eyes shone and said that he could kidnap you at any moment. Also more interesting!
When you woke up on a random day of your vacation not in your own bed, but in a completely unknown place, at first you were afraid. But then you quickly remembered that you suggested it yourself. In addition, Satoru appeared on the threshold of a chic bedroom, who crossed his arms over his chest, smiled sweetly at you and wished you a good morning.
"How did you sleep, my dear? Everything okay? I tried to move you as carefully as possible. Oh, please don't worry. This place... is now your eternal paradise. And you will be with me forever."
You could only giggle inwardly and try to pretend that you were scared. You were waiting for walks (that is, attempts to escape) in the fresh air, delicious food, lack of people and only your beautiful husband!
As you ran away from him through the forest, you could feel your heart beating harder and louder. Satoru played yandere so perfectly! As usual, he was perfect in everything.
He looked at you as if you were a goddess, the most precious thing in his life that he would kill anyone for. He treated you like a porcelain statue, as if he was afraid of breaking you. He was angry and crazy when you tried to escape, always catching you and whispering in your ear that you would never, ever leave him. He tried to get your love and promised that he would kill anyone who dared to approach you, steal you from him.
You almost believed it was real.
On the last day of your vacation, you were sitting at a table opposite Satoru, drinking tea and smiling contentedly. Your little "game" has come to a logical end: you have surrendered to your "maniac" and agreed to be his and only his. Satoru sat across from you and smiled broadly as he watched you eat the sweets he bought for you.
–It's been a good two weeks, – you put down your cup and stretched. – I'm kind of sorry that I'll have to go back to work soon…
–M? What are you talking about? I told you, you'll stay with me forever. And you agreed. What kind of work can we talk about?
–Satoru, stop messing around, – you tapped him on the forehead. – I told you, 'game over.' And we have discussed this many times. I'll go crazy with boredom if I don't work. Plus, I love what I do, so…
–What game, my dear? – Satoru smiled innocently at you. – Initially, there was no game.
You looked at your husband... and shuddered. He's been playing the maniac you're obsessed with so perfectly all this time... why does he keep doing it now, when you've already told him it's over?
–Satoru, this isn't funny, – you rolled your eyes. – By the way, where are we? I don't remember your family having an estate in the middle of the forest…
–This is my personal purchase. I did it as soon as I saw you.
–Uh, cute... probably? Did you want to give me a present or something?
You watched as Satoru slowly got up and walked around the table. He put his hands on the back of your chair, and you shivered all over. You knew, knew that your husband was just joking… B-but why were you suddenly afraid?
–I must admit, you should reward me for waiting so long, – Satoru leaned in close to your ear, and you could almost feel his smirk. – I've been waiting so, so long for this moment. I've watched these pathetic humans interact with you, how they waste your precious time... how they take you away from me.
–S-Satoru… I told you... "game over"…
–O-o-oh, my precious, – Gojo took a lock of your hair and pressed it to his nose, inhaling the scent. – You're completely wrong. It's just getting started…
You jumped up abruptly and spun around. Satoru looked at you with... hungry eyes. There was a creepy smile on his face that sent goosebumps all over your body, but now you didn't feel as excited as you did a week ago. Now your husband looked like a maniac... instead of trying to play the role of a maniac.
You took a couple of steps away from him and slammed into the table. Gojo chuckled and held out his hand in your direction. The ring glinted on his ring finger.
–What's the matter, dear? Didn't you like it when I acted like an obsessive, jealous animal? That's what we came here for. Oh, I'm so, so glad that you accept me for who I am…
He started moving towards you, but for some reason you couldn't stop your body. You couldn't think, you rushed to the door leading to the veranda and burst out. Your feet started to lead you towards the forest. You grabbed your phone and started tapping your finger on the screen, not knowing who you were going to call.
Satoru followed you out and looked at your retreating back. Over the rustle of branches, you heard his hysterical laughter, which made your insides freeze. You almost stopped and froze in place…
–My dear wife, do you think I won't find you the same way I did all the other times? Back then, I didn't even try, didn't even use my Six Eyes… And now... now that you're running away for real, the hunt should be real too, right?
You ran, you ran, you ran... you hoped to escape, somehow. Fortunately, so far you've been able to make a call, and you've taken the opportunity.
–Yes...?
–N-Nanami-san! I-I need help right now! S-Satoru is chasing me! I think there's something wrong with him! I need someone to know my location on the signal!..
You yelled when Gojo suddenly appeared in front of you. You turned around and started to run, but his big, strong arm wrapped around your waist and held you close, holding you firmly in place. He put his other hand over your mouth. Somehow, your phone is trapped between his ear and shoulder.
–Gojo-san?..
–Oh, I didn't think you'd address me so respectfully, Nanamin! It's so cute!..
–In general, I turned to your wife, do not even hope. Gojo, what's up? What was that?
–Oh, remember what I said about the little themed vacation that (Y/N) came up with? – Satoru said that like he wasn't holding you in his arms at the moment. You tried to resist, tried to scream, but the sorcerer was just too strong. – She got so used to being the 'victim' that she accidentally called you! I'm sorry if she distracted you from your important bread things. She wanted everything to be as close to reality as possible.
–Yes, I would also call someone if I was kidnapped… In any case, I don't want to know what the two of you are doing there. Say to her "hi" to for me. And also ask her not to call me with such "practical jokes". Realism is realism, but I might think that she was actually abducted by someone.
–Of course, of course! Bye-bye, Nanamin! I kiss you!..
–I didn't want to hear it.
As soon as Satoru took one hand away from you, you screamed. However, Kento didn't hear this because it was the first to disconnect from the call. Gojo silently put your phone back in his pocket.
You shivered all overas Satoru pulled you closer to him and leaned in close to your ear, his hot breath burning your temple.
–I couldn't stand having you around other people. I've waited so long to trap you… – Satoru kissed you on the cheek, then lifted your hand and kissed the ring on your finger. – Now only I can see your beautiful face, hear your angelic voice, and smell your divine fragrance… You'll be mine now. And that's what you've been dreaming about, isn't it? A normal person could not have imagined that they were being abducted by yandere.
You tried to resist, but you knew it was useless. Satoru easily hoisted you over his shoulder and carried you back towards the manor. Your own game... took you to the grave.
As you sat on the bed and tried to get as far away from Gojo lying on his side and smiling, you were horrified to remember every expression on his face, every movement, every word he said…
It was all true. Every threat to your family and friends, every promise to put you on a chain or put a collar on you, every word that Satoru is ready to destroy the whole world, if only you were near him… It was all true.
You always knew that your husband would fulfill your every wish. He just loved you so, so much! He always listened to you and tried to make you happy. But now you understood why this was happening. He was just luring you into a trap. He just wanted you to rely on him and him alone. He just wanted... to have you all to himself.
He will indeed grant you every wish... but not the one that concerned your desire to escape. This is now your new home. The home... right next to him and only to him.
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ittibittium · 1 year
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i think i accidentally paraglided myself into an end-game quest of totk this is me accidentally falling off a roof into the ganon fight while trying to see how high i could climb in botw all over again. i havent even done the start of game quests yet or gotten any of the sages KFJDSJKGH
#i was like#im gonna see if i can use this wing thing to get into that cloud over there there's islands in there i wanna see#and then i botched that and got yeeted off the island without my flight contraption but somehow managed to stamina potion my way in#and then when i landed i was like#i cant see shit here#fuck it#blooms arent helping either i obviously havent done something i needed to do before coming here#like when i hot air ballooned into the water temple island but couldnt do the quest because i needed to tell sidon where a water bridge was#and i had no idea where that was so i was like fuck it i'll fly myself up#but anyway i was on the island in the storm and was like fuck it im just gonna jump off and go do other quests then no point being here#and then i just HAPPENED to jump off the island right into the hidden shrine#so i did the shrine#and then i was looking around and there was a goddess statue and i had enough orbs so i was like yeah sure i'll get another heart#and then i saw the doors#and i hit open without really thinking#and i just HAPPENED TO NOW HAVE EXACTLY THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF HEARTS TO OPEN IT#I DIDNT THINK IT WOULD ACTUALLY OPEN WHEN I SAW IT WAS ONE OF THOSE HEART DOORS I WAS LIKE FUCK IM GONNA LOSE MY HP#BUT I LIVED AND IT OPENED BECAUSE I HAD THE EXACT AMOUNT BECAUSE I JUST GOT ANOTHER HEART#and now im at the factory building what i accidentally read was an end game mecha#i have ONE battery charge thing#i havent even gotten more of the charges#i barely even made it to the location#im KJHFDKSJHGJ#debating if i make this or go do other stuff rn#i got one of the legs but#FHJGHFDLKHJ
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strawberrystepmom · 1 month
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gojo x f!reader are married. he refers to readers breasts and makes a lewd joke. divider by cafekitsune my most beloved | wc 822
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“That one looks like you.”
Squeezing Satoru’s bicep where your hand rests against it, arm looped through his, you giggle and shake your head. The statue in front of you is flesh made marble, a woman with thighs that maybe on a really good day resemble yours so painstakingly crafted that crowds gather to see her. She’s beautiful, a depiction of a goddess from fables you are both vaguely familiar with.
Is this really how he sees you? It makes those same butterflies he always manages to create stir in your belly and you wrinkle your nose, taking a peek up at him but looking away to admire the beauty depicted in front of you.
“You’ve already charmed me, Satoru. You don’t have to tell tall tales.” His gaze shifts from the sculpture to you, something you can feel rather than witness. He scoffs and tilts his head, shifting from standing beside you to in front of you, arms still linked together.
 “You always say that when I compliment you. Why?”
Laughing, you reach to pinch his side with your freehand and he dodges just in the nick of time. It’s preventative, he always giggles and causes a scene when you touch the tender ticklish spot right at his hip bone, and a museum in another country on a trip the two of you had to bend your schedules to go on is not the place to have a tickle fight. He traps your hand in his and deposits it at your side with a smug half smile.
“Let’s not get into it right now. I’ll just say thank you for the compliment and we can move on.”
Never one to take being put off gracefully, he crowds against you until there is zero space between your bodies. You worry about the PDA being seen as offensive or too much and glance around the mostly empty on a weekday museum where everyone else is fairly ignorant of your existence. It’s just the two of you, as always and not just in your head this time. Smiling, you let him embrace you and rest his balled hands against the small of your back, your entire body leaning into his side.
“You know, I’d have a house full of sculptures and paintings of you just like that if you’d let me,” he mumbles under his breath to bait you. You laugh aloud, pressing your cheek to his arm. “What, nude?” He sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and raises his eyebrows over the tops of his sunglasses. “Obviously. Or clothed or in a gown or in water or tangled in our bed sheets.” 
Pausing to take a breath, he’s surprised to see you already looking up at him when he gazes down at you. He wishes he could capture this with more than just his eyes, his phone and heart. He has painted you before and would create a thousand more odes to his beauty if he had more time on his hands and you’d let him. You’re so eager to disbelieve your own beauty, you haven’t sat to be painted by him in years. 
Satoru makes a mental note to rectify that as soon as the two of you get home but continues to speak now that he has your undivided attention, smirking, all dimples and mischief and the things you love the most about him, the tenderness in your glance a reflection of how you feel.
“I’m just saying. I’m sure I could find some sculptor to carve my pretty wife and would do those,” he glances down at your chest and you roll your eyes half-heartedly, still wearing the smile he put on your face with his casual comparison of your likeness to that of a goddess. “The artistic justice they deserve.”
Despite the tongue in cheek joking, he can be such a romantic when he wants to be. You kind of feel he’s laying it on a little thick because you’re on vacation but what’s the harm in having fun when it is luxuriously just the two of you, the rarity that it is?
Smiling up at him, you offer a better solution.
“Maybe they can sculpt both of us. We can see if they’ll do that,” you subtly reach down and pat just below his belt buckle before he can swat at your hand or turn on his Infinity to keep you away, pulling your hand away as quickly as you can. “Some justice too.”
Now that’s an idea he appears to like, his smirk sliding into a full smile. You pat his arm and separate yourself from him, only to be met with a whine. You reach behind you and grab his hand, fingers intertwining as naturally as they always do, pulling him along with you.
“Now let me show you which one reminds me of you,” you tease him, smiling over your shoulder. 
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cameronspecial · 8 months
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I Want To Be Your Boyfriend
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of Sex
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.9K
Summary: Rafe never thought that he could fall for a Pogue, but the Goddess in front of him might change his mind.
A/N: This is a prequel to I Want To Be With You and requested by @sublimepenguinpeach-blog
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When he first saw her, he thought she was the most beautiful Kook he had ever seen. The lavender silk Prada shirt she is wearing crops just above her belly button. It reveals a delicious sliver of her stomach that he just wants to rest his hands on. The recognizable double G of her creamed colour belt displays the girl’s financial status. But as Rafe’s eyes trail down to her pants, confusion crosses his features. The black jeans she wears are distraught with holes in a fashionable manner, yet, he doesn’t recognize the brand and the material looks too cheap to be a brand name. Her shoes also don’t match the top half of her outfit as the white Sketchers look so worn out that it had to be done because she can’t afford new ones and not because of aesthetics. 
Sarah and the rest of the Pogues joining his Goddess help put the puzzle pieces together in his mind. His sister is known for her love of sharing her clothes with her Pogue friends, so the Goddess in front of him must be a Pogue. Unlike Sarah, Rafe would never associate himself with Pogues unless they were working for him. Yet, the concern she shows for JJ over a bleeding cut on his forehead from falling down makes Rafe realize he doesn’t care that she lives on the wrong side of the island. She lets out the most amazing laugh he has ever heard and he has to be the one that makes her smile. He makes his way over to talk to her, but Kiara stops him in his tracks. 
“Don’t even think about it. She is too good for you,” she warns him away. He tries to sidestep her, “Come on, Kiara. Let me talk to her.” The girl shakes his head and turns him away. He doesn’t want to make a scene in front of the goddess, so he walks away in defeat. Throughout the night, he tries to talk to her and is intercepted by the other Pogues. 
——
For weeks he has been trying to talk to her, but every time a Pogue is there to stop him. At least he learnt her name. Y/N Y/L/N, the name of a goddess. He is sent by his dad to pick up something to eat at The Wreck and this is when he sees her next. She is whipping down a table on the far side of the room, which makes him switch course toward her. JJ spots Rafe’s new direction and runs into his path with a smirk. “I’m sorry, man. I can’t let you near her.” “You can’t tell me what to do, Pogue,” Rafe spits out, standing up straight so the small height distance looks a little bigger. JJ wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand to try to hide his chuckle, “When it comes to her, I can. Now, as the French say, arrivederci.” Rafe is going to argue more, but the call of his name for his order pulls him away from the blonde.
��—
It felt like fate when he got to the coffee shop to see her hunched over a notebook by herself. He looks around the store to check that she really is alone and no other pogue is in sight. He grins at this new revelation, sliding himself across from her in the booth. “I’ve been trying to introduce myself for weeks. I’m Rafe,” he sticks his hand out for her to shake. She brings her hand to his and he notices that although they are calloused, they are still supple, “I know your name silly. And I know you know that you have been trying. My friends don’t keep things from me.” 
“Right, so you’ve just been making me chase after you on purpose.” 
“You know, Rafe, you are the one with the name that means counsel of the wolf in Old Norse. I’m starting to see that it is a pretty accurate name.”
“You are just as smart as I thought you were because I have no idea what you mean.”
She finds his honesty cute, “I’m saying that wolves are predators and you have been chasing after me like a pray for weeks.” He likes that she isn’t condescending when she explains the joke to him. “Ahh, I totally understood that. Please, keep blessing me with your wisdom.” 
——
Rafe has been talking and texting Y/N for a month now and he is finally convinced they are not going to be caught hanging out together by the other Pogues. This means he is finally going to ask her to go steady with him because he is assured they can go on a date without being caught. She stares at her TV show while his head is resting on her thigh near her stomach. He is between her legs and his focus is on his phone. “Y/N,” he catches her attention. “I want to be your boyfriend.” His tone is practically begging her to say yes. She looks down at him with a soft smile and her fingers lace through his hair. “Rafey, I would love for you to be my boyfriend. But I don’t think there is going to be much of a difference in our relationship,” she confides, twirling his hair between her fingers.
“Why not?” 
“I don’t think you can get any more clingy than this, Rafey.”
“True, but there is something I can start craving more than your touch, Baby”
He lifts his head off her thigh and brings himself to hover over Y/N. He gives her a peck before moving in to deepen the kiss. His hands find the buttons of her shirt as he begins kissing his way down her neck. Forget about her laughter, her moans are the most amazing thing he has ever heard.
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lady-harrowhark · 1 year
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A list of characters who are described with some variation of “waxen”:
Harrow’s parents
Protesilaus (Beguiling Corpse Edition)
Naberius (Tower Prince Edition)
Kiriona
Ianthe
…One of these things is not like the others.
If I were going to put on my tin foil hat, I might start thinking about how Ianthe says she was born via “surgical means” after Corona had “removed [her] source of oxygen” which put her survivability “somewhere around definite nil” (emphasis original). I might also start thinking about how badly their father “wanted a matched set.”
The first time she’s described as such, it says she “looked so completely like a shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture.” And if I had my tin foil hat on, I might notice that this sounds suspiciously like the exchange right before dios apate minor, when Augustine tells her she looks like “a statue of some lost goddess hauled up from the waters, painted lineaments removed but marble intact.” To which she responds, “Covered in moss, mould, and gunge… You should see my sister.”
Good thing I don’t have my tin foil hat on.
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lady-ashfade · 4 months
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Blood And Pressure
Part four
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Yandere!Pjo × Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)
-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next
-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that's all really (maybe more in the future!)
-♡ words: 1k
-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens.
-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.
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You’d like to say you could understand everything that was happening but you had not even a small clue. You sat in the big house with your bag in hand while the two adults argue over you.
“I forbid her to leave, she’s not hera’s child,” you sink back while Mr.d points his finger at you, “she belongs here, with me.”
The god fought for you to stay with him, he kept you happy and feed, even made you smile. All for someone else to claim you? It made his blood boil and you could see it on his face as he shouts.
“She’s been claimed and even if we don’t understand, it is how things have to be.” Chiron sounded disappointed but stern. Of course he would stay up for you, like he always does. He hated for you to leave but you wanted so badly to leave them and have friends and he could understand.
“Mr.d,” you step forward to the god, “I’ll make you a promise.”
“And what’s that kid?” He hated how he spoke to you but he was just too heated that he could banish everyone kid from camp.
“I’ll come visit and play cards with you every week?” You try and bargain your time, even when the thoughts made your bones tighten at thinking of being stuck like that again.
He looked down at you with a suspicious glare while he thought it over. He didn’t have a choice but that didn’t mean he liked it. So finally he let out a breath and agreed while rushing off and mumbling under his breath.
The next stop you had was weirder.
The cabin was dark and empty. Cold and you could feel your spine shiver at the lack of heat. You glanced around but found no furniture to even sit on. No one was supposed to sleep here. Hera had no half-blood offsprings because unfaithfulness was not her way, and yet here you stand being claimed by her. And something tells you all the gods had something to do with it. Mr. D seemed to be more jealous when he spoke about the queen of gods. Like she was unworthy to have you.
“I suppose we’ll be needing to fetch some essentials for your new home.” Chiron tried to sound happy.
“Don’t worry,” you hold up your arms that carried pillows as far as you can with a reassuring smile, “I’ll survive.” and truth be told your bed was the one thing you would miss about staying there.
You find yourself walking up to the firepit and staring up at the statue of hera holding her staff. The way her eyes looked…you felt calm, but almost afraid of what it would be like to look in the real ones. She wasn’t someone to mess with while even her husband feared her wrath.
“So, Chiron?” You ask. You continue to stare up at the stone goddess. “Do you know why she claimed me.” there wasn’t much hope he’d share his insight. the centaur kept quiet for a second to consider his next words wisely.
“Just as clueless to me. Maybe we’ll get some information in the morning after a goodnight sleep.” Just as you thought. Not a peep from him.
You nod and turn around and place everything you had on the floor which wasn’t much but you were glad you had all you did. Chiron handed you the blankets with a smile on his face and for a minute it looked like he was going to cry while he looked at you.
So you open your arms wide and pull him into a hug, or what you could reach and he chuckles deeply and pats your head. In all his years you were his favorite to ever walk into this camp and to guide you. To him, camp was nothing without you.
You settled in quickly while unpacking what you could to make you feel at home. You had two blankets, one on the floor and pillows on top and the other over yourself. You tried to pick a place to the fire without burning up or being too cold.
And for the first time you were all alone to your own thoughts.
“Pst” a hushed whisper called out from no where. The voice startled you as you jump forward and grab ahold of the nearest thing, your old book.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a camper.” The voice had no body to go along with it making you confused. Was it one of Apollos children? Whoever they were they didn’t belong here.
“Says the person who stays hidden.”
The person in question lets out a laugh and then you see a figure appearing out of no where. A blue cap was the first thing you notice as they move their hand down with it grasped. A girl with a orange camp shirt, pretty eyes and blonde hair twisted into a braid.
“You grab a book to hurt me? Almost seems like you know me.” She smirked amusingly.
She had been watching you since you arrived at camp two years ago when she could, she grew to now you like no one else did. And now you’re out and into the camp with her she couldn’t let you walk without keeping a eye on you. You arrived with percy, another person she needed to watch so it was easy.
“What’s you name?” You ask the mysterious girl.
“Annabeth, consider me your guide from now on.” She walked further and stood above you. Her wicked smile seemed off just like everyone else you have seen.
“What cabin are you from? I heard some kids saying Apollos kids-” she cut you off by waving the hat in her hand.
“Athena.” You nod.
“And you’ll need me.” You tilted your head at her words and arched your brows. Need her? What was she talking about.
“For what? I mean I’m glad to have a friend but..” taking a deep breath as her eyes glint with something almost dangerous.
“For capture of the flag.”
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Taglist: @maria699669 @gorgeourrific-nerd @alliriseabove @targaryenluvs @theaaeht @dabalyuteeeftia @weepingwitchofthewest @iris1587 @tulipmagnoliaisme @ameliashideout @purplerose291 @poppyflower-22 @riaaavm @anonymouslyawesome25 @orionspaperwork @a-cat-loverr @Ilpovi @eatmyassfictionalstyle @theanklebiter-blog @nasyu-kookies
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waayfo · 27 days
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‘CONFESSION’ aventurine x fem!reader (fluff, ballroom dancing)
this is actually a part of my fanfiction that i just post on AO3 but short ver ! it’s actually kinda long (honorable mention; wingman topaz)
A night filled with stars, sounds of people talking in the background, and occasionally the moon gives off reflected light to the ambiance.
A day before Aventurine left to go to Penacony, he was invited to attend an event. The event was nothing more than a dance party in a ballroom.
Fancy and elegant, if Aventurine had to describe it. Several statues representing Greek gods and goddesses are carved beautifully, even the corner of the ballroom looks majestic. And of course, the other invited guests were none other than important people. Aventurine felt a little honored to be invited.
And of course, you are also invited to the event.
Aventurine couldn't take his eyes off you; how the expensive satin dress you're wearing captures every curve of your body perfectly, and how the makeup on your already bewitching face makes you look even more divine.
Aventurine couldn't help but wonder; How does it feel to have you? Will you always allow him to put his hand on your waist so that everyone knows you are his? Will you always call his name with a smile?
Aeons, Aventurine can’t get enough of you.
“Ves'tacha, you look enchanting.” You were surprised by the nickname he used on you, but a blush managed to appear on your cheeks.
“Thanks, Aven. You look even more attractive.”
Schwanengesang, D.957: No. 4 Serenade. Something you wouldn't expect to be played by the great and talented musicians invited to the event.
Sipping the wine given by the waiter who went around to offer wine, you looked at the couples who were dancing to the rhythm.
It tastes good, you think to yourself.
Feeling a hand on your shoulder from behind, you immediately turned around quickly. Finding Aventurine who is now holding your hand.
“Mind for a dance?”
Your confusion was quickly replaced by a smile. “Why not?”
Aventurine kissed your hand, then guided you to follow him. You two look like a couple, that’s what you always thought.
The way Aventurine led the dance immediately, his hand was always gently on your waist, his other hand holding yours.
“You’re going to Penacony tomorrow?” You asked between the silence between the two of you.
“Mhm. Will you miss me?” Aventurine didn't know where he got the courage to get the confidence to ask it.
“Of course,” you answed. Aventurine's eyes easily showed that he was surprised. He felt a slight warmth which relieved him.
“Then, let's go together.” Now you are the one who is surprised. But you can't lie to your heart that wants to say yes.
Just by your smile, Aventurine knows your answer. He shouted victory in his heart.
“Aven,” you called.
“Yes?”
Masquerade Suite: Waltz. You gave him a smile.
“I like you.”
Aventurine was silent. It took him three seconds to process and try to say something, but his mouth couldn't say anything.
His hand was on your waist pulling you closer. Without saying anything, he kissed you when the music was at its peak. “Ves'tacha,” he whispers.
‘May this heart beats for you.’
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Note
any Husk headcanons?
Yes actually!
Let's start with the fact that I don't think he has ever truly been at an Overlord level of evil. Arrogant, power-hungry, and mischievous? Absolutely. But he wasn't in the same league of villainy as Alastor or Valentino. He got to the top by being lucky and playing his cards right, yet lacking the ruthlessness required to stay there.
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At the height of his game, he was living it up, throwing these epic parties at his casino that everyone who was anyone in Hell made sure to attend. Unlike other Overlords, he wasn't all about plotting and taking over Hell – he was the life of the party, had killer taste in music, and always brought in top-notch performers. It was a joy to be around him, and everyone loved him. Or it looked like that.
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He fell in love with one singer. When he was still "young", reckless and power-drunk, she seemed to be a perfect match for him. So beautiful everyone envied him, so talented her voice could enchant the whole ballroom. She commanded the crowd effortlessly like a goddess; she was the most charming arm candy, and she was so smart and cunning she could easily keep up in conversations with people of higher status. Husk worshipped the ground she walked on, and she was always by his side, his Lucky Charm. But then, he hit rock bottom, losing his money, his casino, his everything. And when he needed support the most, all those fair-weather friends, including Lucky, vanished because he wasn't useful to them anymore. That broke him – realizing that everything he thought he had in Hell was just an illusion. No one really cared about Husk; they were there just for the Overlord of Gambling. Ironically, Alastor turned out to be the only honest one because he never pretended it was anything but a game for him.
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That's why Husk initially despised Angel's "fakeness" so much—he had encountered too many deceitful people in his life, and one of them had ruined him forever. He's also deeply ashamed of his past because he loathes the Overlords and everything they stand for, yet he's convinced that deep down, he's no better than them. He doesn't think he deserves to be saved or even loved by Angel because, in his mind, he's not much better than Valentino. Especially after realizing how different Angel is from Lucky, he feels he deserves him even less. Yes, he has come to terms with being a loser baby because he lost everything to his gambling addiction, but he has never fully forgiven himself for being part of the cruel system that exploits common sinners so the Overlords can indulge in endless parties and pointless fights.
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foxy-eva · 1 year
Text
Adore You
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Summary: Spencer makes sure you know how much he loves your body
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) body worshipping, oral (fem receiving), coming untouched (Spencer)
Word Count: 1k
Masterlist
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Spencer had always been someone who appreciated art in any form. That was why he couldn’t take his eyes off you when you stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel covering your figure. 
“You look gorgeous,” he mumbled as you approached the bed. “It’s almost unreal.” 
You smirked at him when you suddenly let the towel drop to the floor, revealing yourself to him. 
“How about now?” You snickered. 
“Even better.” 
The truth was that anytime he laid eyes on your bare form, he couldn’t help but think of artists carving statues into marble in an attempt to do a goddess justice. Someone like you must have inspired them. When you crawled into his lap to straddle his hips, he was quick to drop the book from his hands. 
Spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact that the greatest masterpiece on earth was there with him, waiting to be admired fully. There was nothing that could ever distract him from his mission to adore you. 
“You look like a goddess,” he cooed while placing his hands on your waist. “Please let me worship you.” 
Leaning down to kiss him, you mumbled against his lips, “I’m all yours, Spencer.” 
With one swift motion he turned you around so you were laying on your back with him hovering over you. He seemed almost greedy when he kissed you then, slipping his tongue into your mouth after just a few moments. You welcomed his enthusiasm, even more so when he left your lips to kiss down your neck instead, leaving goosebumps everywhere his hot breath tickled your skin. 
When he got to the curves of your chest you felt him smiling against your body. He kissed and nipped your sensitive skin, content when you began to sing him his praise in the forms of sighs and moans falling from your lips. His hand was caressing one of your breasts while he licked over the hardened peak of the other one. 
He took his sweet time with your breasts, alternating between the two of them until he was sure that he gave each of them enough attention. He started kissing down your stomach when he decided that it hadn’t been enough yet, pawing at your breasts once more before kissing each nipple several times. 
“You’re absolutely perfect,” he breathed as he nestled his face against your chest. 
His adorable display of affection made you giggle, “I know you love them.” 
“I love all of you,” he corrected you. 
“Show me.” 
He didn’t hesitate any longer to kiss further down your body, exploring every inch of you with his hands and lips. When he got to your hips, he gently bit into the supple flesh, making you squirm underneath him. One of his hands reached around you to grab a handful of the curve of your backside, burying his fingernails into your skin until you were sure he’d leave marks. 
The thought of finding the evidence of his worship painted all over your body in the morning let your heart skip a beat. You loved being reminded of his desire for everything you had to offer. When he kissed the soft patch of skin just below your belly, your legs spread open for him to lie down between them. 
He took a moment to take in the sight of your exposed core, purring, “Marvelous.” 
Instead of kissing you where you were already aching for his touch, he began nipping on the insides of your ample thighs instead. He took his time kissing and licking along them until he reached your knee, only to repeat the same thing on the other leg. When he was done with that, he sat up between your thighs to find your eyes. 
Your cheeks were glowing and your eyes half-lidded when he looked at you. The way he showed you his adoration for you aroused you more than you could put into words. It was obvious how excited he was by the large bulge in his pajama pants. You would have been happy to help him get some relief but you knew that bringing you pleasure was everything he needed right then. 
He let his sight roam over your body, his eyes filled with wonder when they lingered on your center. Gentle fingertips made contact with your silken folds, spreading your sweet essence from your entrance along your crevice. However, his touch was too light to grant you some much needed friction. 
“Don’t tease me, Spencer,” You whined. 
As if he was snapping out from a trance, he quickly apologized before laying down between your legs, “Sorry, you’re just so beautiful.” 
Your whole body began trembling when he began collecting your honeyed wetness on his tongue. He was mesmerized by your heady scent and couldn’t help but begin to rock his hips against the mattress while bringing you pleasure with his mouth. With your hands in his hair you brought him even closer to you. 
After exploring your core with his tongue as if to imprint your uniqueness into his brain forever, he focussed on the small bundle of nerves. By the sounds of your whimpers and moans he knew that you were about to enter a state of pure bliss. He was eager to worship you the way you deserved, relentlessly moving his tongue and lips over you to let you fall over the edge. 
Both of you felt light-headed but Spencer got completely lost in the pleasure. All the tension suddenly left his body when he found release in his pants without ever being touched. Only moments later did you find your high as well, tremors wrecking through your body as you savored the euphoria. 
You practically had to push Spencer’s face away from your core as he was still buried between your legs, a whine escaping his lips when you denied him access to your ambrosial taste. Your open arms offered consolation and he was happy to take it. 
As your hand snuck down his body to make him feel good too, you found him already soft and his pants stained. 
“Naughty boy,” you teased him and he buried his face into the crook of your neck. 
“I can’t help it when you taste so divine,” he whispered. 
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If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fics in my NSFW Masterlist!
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thiscoldheart · 1 month
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some details that i loved in la chimera (spoiler heavy) :
i posted this on twitter as well but i wanted to include it here too. i love this little moment here where italia rests her head on arthur's shoulder and for a brief moment, he's anchored to the present by that touch, but him being the orpheus that he is, just HAD to turn back and find himself gravitating towards the tombs, the past and his eurydice.
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the fact that italia's name is literally italy in italian and by the end of the movie she creates a community of her own where she's looking out for those that are outcasted by society, in an abandoned train station named riparbella which literally means "to start again".
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arthur's eye always being blocked by shadow throughout the movie until he sees the light at the very end
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according to wiki, the goddess the statue is based on is cybele, goddess of nature, animals, wild places and represents the "creative and destructive force of nature." her phrygian name matar (mother) alludes to the fact that she was a "mediator between the boundaries of the known and unknown, the civilized and the wild, the worlds of the living and the dead." i love that this goddess' presence in the movie symbolizes arthur traversing between the living and the dead worlds and getting closer to beniamina. i love that by the end of the movie, the statue itself becomes unknown to human eyes and returns to the wild, far away from civilization, which is arguably the same fate that arthur meets as he dies.
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the red string that's following arthur around is very reminiscent of the red string ariadne gives theseus to find his way through the maze. it's beautiful how this red string seems to appear only in his dreams at first but slowly starts crossing the boundaries of dreams and reality as the movie goes on until he is able to tug at it by the end and cross over into beniamina's world.
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arthur, at the beginning of the movie, says "so it's you. my last woman's face." how cool is it that beniamina's face resembles cybele's?
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arthur goes back to flora's house after being injured and her daughter finds him in the bathroom. spooked, she says "i thought it was a ghost" which arthur might as well be considering how he's essentially been a walking corpse this entire movie.
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also a special shout out from the bottom of my heart to the sped up sequences, didn't even realize how badly i needed them until i saw them. the chaos in these sequences is everything to me. this is REAL cinema!
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in general, one of the themes that i've come to love about this movie is how objects can have different meanings to everyone. an object like the bell arthur found was just "a thing that rings" whereas italia interprets it as a gift until she comes to realize it's been excavated from a grave. the statue was part of a shrine back when it was made, but to the tombaroli and the sellers, this is only a means to make more money. the train station started off as a place that symbolizes movement of people from the city to the countryside but has now become a home for the outcasts of society. the apotropaic phallus would've have warded off evil and bad luck back in the day, but is now used as a means of escape from the law. a simple red string is the literal lifeline for arthur as he tries to find his way back to his lover.
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also want to give another shout out to the inclusion of the italian troubadours (our greek chorus) who beautifully spell out the tragedy of our protagonist and his gang.
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speaking of music, i really liked this particular song italia was singing as she was practicing. the lyrics go "i'd like to explain to you, o god/ where my suffering lies/ but fate condemns me to weep/ to weep" and that's exactly when arthur finds her crying son. at least italia finds a way for her suffering to end by the end of the movie. maybe we can say the same about arthur too?
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i'll probably add more as i keep rewatching the movie lol and make a thread of this on twitter too (x) thanks for sticking around and let me know what other cool details y'all noticed!
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oizysian · 1 year
Text
Closer | Wanda Maximoff
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader Warnings: dark!wanda, breeding, self harm, mind control, manipulation, slight dubcon, Wanda has a magic penis. Word Count: 2k Genre: Smut
summary: while exploring the multiverse, Wanda comes across a most curious scene.
I'll tell them my religion's you
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I placed the last rock atop the altar, licking my dry lips as I admired the stack of beautifully unique stones. The candles were all lit, various tapers of different colors and sizes illuminated the space they occupied.
I got on my knees before the shrine, bringing my hands together and closing my eyes so I could make one final plea to the Goddess.
“O, Goddess Scarlet Witch, please hear my prayer.” I took a deep breath, pushing back the tears that pricked at the corners of my eyes. “I’ve made several offerings to you, O, Goddess, and I hope you are pleased with them, but I’m afraid I’ve nothing left to offer.”
I had offered her fine jewels, precious stones, even brought to her a lamb for sacrifice, but now I was out of things to give … save for one thing.
“So, I offer to you, my life.” I took the knife out of its sheath, my hands shaking as I raised it up, as if she was there to see it. “I hope I am a worthy sacrifice.” I whispered into the night, bringing the blade down to my abdomen and plunging it in.
With a cry of pain, I laid myself down in front of the altar, letting the sweet darkness of death take me to her. I shivered, the chill of the night soaking into my bones as I let myself go.
“Foolish girl.”
I heard a soft voice say as my vision got cloudy, my head too heavy to lift to see who was intruding on my private final moments with the Goddess.
I gasped softly as I felt my body mend itself, the fabric of my being stitching back together. I gathered my strength and opened my eyes, watching as this beautiful woman hovered over me, and from her fingertips red wisps wove themselves into my gaping wound.
I was left speechless as I watched her, the Goddess, tending to me. On her head was her crown, her reddish brown hair flowing over her shoulders, her eyes red, glowing in the darkness of the night, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Goddess,” I breathed softly. “You came to me.”
“I am no Goddess.” She said, her unfamiliar accent thick.
The glow in her fingertips and her eyes subsided, and with it so did my pain. I took a deep breath and sat up, looking down at the dried blood on my belly, but with no wound to speak of.
“You are The Scarlet Witch.” I said softly, looking into her hardened green eyes. “You are the Goddess of chaos magic.”
I pointed to the altar behind her and she slowly turned around to look at it. A statue resembling her stood tall, surrounded by candles, flowers, bottles of wine, baskets of fruits and bread, small rocks, and jewelry of all kinds, but mostly rings.
“What is this?” She questioned as she stood, her stained fingertips reaching out to touch the face of the marble carving.
“It is you.” I said before getting on my knees before her, my head bowed in submission.
“And you were willing to die for me?”
I nodded, but kept my head down, knowing I had no right laying my eyes on a Goddess.
She reached down and grabbed my chin, raising it so I would look at her.
“You are too beautiful to be a sacrifice.”
I opened my eyes and admired her; her full lips, her deep, green eyes, her high cheekbones. She truly was the Goddess.
“Thank you, Goddess.” I said softly, wanting nothing more than to please the woman that finally answered my prayers and appeared before me.
“You want to please me?” She tilted her head at me and I froze, not understanding how she knew what I was thinking.
“Y-yes, Goddess.”
“My name is Wanda. And what do they call you?”
“Y/N.” I said quickly, swallowing nervously. “I’m Y/N.”
“Y/N.” She said my name as if she was feeling the weight of it on her tongue. “You can please me, Y/N.”
“How? Please tell me how. I’ll do anything for you, my Goddess.”
She helped me to stand and I took hold of her arms to balance myself. I stared into her emerald eyes, completely transfixed by her astounding beauty. She leaned in closer to me, just barely ghosting her lips over my own. I trembled, unsure of how to respond to her.
At my hesitance, she moved in, cupping my face in her hands and pulling me closer to her, kissing me softly. My heart pounded in my chest at the closeness and the feel of her, her smell and taste intoxicating. She ran one of her hands through my hair, getting it tangled in my tousled locks and grabbed a handful, tugging on it gently.
I opened my mouth, gasping at her slight aggressiveness and she slid her tongue inside, exploring me. I stayed still in her arms, responding to her kisses the best that I could. Her lips and tongue seemed so skilled and I could barely keep up with her. She released my hair and let me breathe.
“I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” She spoke against my lips and I nodded, wanting to do anything and everything she asked of me.
She smiled down at me and stroked my cheek gently, and I nearly purred at the feel.
“I know you’ll be a good girl for me, malyshka. I know you’ll do everything I say.”
I nodded eagerly and pressed my lips to hers in excitement, trying my best to kiss her the same way she had kissed me. She smiled against my lips and allowed me to briefly take control, quickly realizing that I had no idea what I was doing, but I was very anxious to learn.
Red wisps surrounded us and I could feel them slipping underneath my clothing, wrapping around my limbs and holding me in place against her. I felt one of them wrap around my neck and tighten, and at that moment the wet spot in my panties couldn’t be denied.
She pulled away from me and admired the view before her; me struggling against her magic, the tendrils bound me completely, not one inch of my body under my control.
She raised me up, a small gesture with her wrist had me hovering in front of her and suddenly those same tendrils came towards my face, invading my mind and my senses. All I could feel was her. All I knew was her - my goddess.
All I wanted now was to taste her, to feel her, to be hers.
“Goddess,” I whined pathetically. “I am yours to have. Let me please you.”
“You will, malyshka.” Her magic tightened around my throat and I couldn’t help but moan. “That’s all you’ll do from now on.”
She motioned towards my body and suddenly my clothing was gone, leaving me bare and open in front of her. A wicked smile crept along her face and the want to rub my legs together to ease the ache she caused was greater than my desire to survive this encounter.
Her fingers moved delicately and my legs spread apart for her. She tilted her head as she eyed me hungrily, needily, and I shivered under her heavy gaze.
“You are so beautiful.” She spoke softly, her painted fingertips coming to stroke my soaked folds. “So wet for me.”
“Goddess!” I squeaked, not used to being touched in such a way. “Please!”
She looked at me for a moment, a flash of realization crossing her features before her satisfied expression returned.
“A virgin sacrifice.” She bit her lip and smiled. “An offering any deity would gratefully accept.”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as she continued to look me over, my body trembling with want. I was so unfamiliar with all of this and now the Goddess wanted one of the last things I could offer her - and I would gladly let her have it.
Her fingers dipped into my pussy, my body attempting to move against her as she carefully explored me without going too deep. She removed her fingers and brought them up to her lips, her tongue jutting out to taste the sticky slick on her hand.
“And so sweet.”
“Please, Goddess.” I cried, unsure of what I was even begging for, but the look on her face told me that she enjoyed it nevertheless.
“Don’t worry, detka. I’m going to take very good care of you.”
Wanda’s hand hovered over the altar for a moment and soon it was bare, suitable for her needs. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again, her clothing was gone, and laying along her thigh was a glowing, red, cock, surging with chaos magic.
“You are mine, malyshka.” She stroked the cock and it reacted as if it was an actual penis, becoming erect in her hand and dripping with precum.
She laid herself down on the altar, still stroking herself and waved her hand towards me, the pulsing red tendrils dragging me towards her.
My breathing was ragged as I was lowered onto her. She was large, throbbing, and I was suddenly scared for a moment. But then, my eyes fell upon hers and all my fears melted away. My virginity was hers - all of me was hers.
She grabbed my hips as I took the cock inch by inch, my aching cunt stretching to accommodate her size.
“G-Goddess! It’s too much!” I cried and she shushed me, running her hand over my abdomen as I took her.
“You were made for me. You can take it and more if I want you to.”
I groaned as I finally bottomed out, my belly bulging ever so slightly at the intrusion.
“See?” She grunted, thrusting upward into me as she held my hips. “You take my cock so well.”
A tendril slid from between my breasts up to my mouth, slipping it’s way inside and fucking my throat. I gagged on it and I could hear her laughing, her hips slapping against my own as she fucked me in two of my holes.
“You’ll be covered in my cum once I’m done with you.” She said as her magical cock throbbed inside of me, her strokes slow and purposeful.
Her brow furrowed and beads of sweat built up on her forehead as she got closer and closer to release. The wisps circled my nipples, tugging and pinching them as I continued to take her the best I could.
Wanda let out a small, whimpering cry before cumming inside of me, her cum completely coating my insides and filling me up. The tendril in my mouth jerked before also cumming, the magical cum shooting down my throat.
I gagged as it slid out of my mouth. Coughing, I caught my breath, the fluid spilling past my lips and falling onto my chin and chest.
She continued to fuck her cum into me, the squishy sounds incredibly loud in the quiet room. Wisps circled my thighs, caressing my clit with featherlike touches, almost instantly bringing me to orgasm. I writhed within my binds, my cheeks burning red with embarrassment as I came on top of her.
I threw my head back and called out for her, my pussy milking her fat cock as I came. The sounds she made were sinful as we both came down from our intense highs. The tendrils began to release me and I laid on top of her, trembling as she wrapped her arms around me.
“You did so good, malyshka.” She whispered softly, pressing a kiss to my crown. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re mine.”
“Only yours, Goddess.” I tentatively raised my head to press my lips against her own and she gladly accepted my kisses. “Only yours.”
I thought the only way I’d get closer to the Goddess was to get on my hands and knees and pray. I don’t need to pray anymore.
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gyll-yee-haw · 2 months
Note
may I request a smutty one shot based on this pic/the Cartier gala? 🤤 (I’m going insane rn!!)
https://x.com/bkgyllenhaal/status/1756016461481390325?s=46
Hii, babes! Thanks for the request, I went FERAL over this photo 🥵
Warnings: oral (m), dirty talk, a little edging, Jake is literally the cutest baby ever
Like 1k words
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Pov: you took the picture at the hotel room you were staying that night <3
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Here's the full story:
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"Look at me! God, you're so handsome!" You smiled, watching Jake doing nothing but sitting there... looking gorgeous and expensive.
"Fine!" He smiled, visibility tired. "Just one more, okay?"
Jake had a lot going on in his life at the moment. Tonight's gala was the ending of a long week of traveling and very little sleeping. You understood that. And you were there to give him support, on everything he may need... and right now, that man needed some rest.
"Right. Don't move." You told him, kneeling in front of the chair he sat.
He watched as you worked to remove his clothes. First his shoes, then his suit. Very slow and carefully, taking your time to feel the soft fabric but, more than that, doing things slowly for once that week would relax him. Just seeing you moving with no rush would bring him peace.
Once or twice he protested, saying he could do it and you didn't need to worry... but deep down he loved being taken care of, so he didn't fight back.
Once he was only in his underwear, you kneeled between his legs. Nails up and down his thighs, sending him goosebumps.
"Baby..." His breathing became heavier, body shifting on the chair.
"Hmm?" You asked innocently.
"Don't tease..." He smiled, gently stroking your hair.
"Aw sorry." You gave his thighs a squeeze. "But tonight's all nice and slow, you need to relax, Jakey."
He hesitated for a second, but allowed you to take control. It didn't sound like a bad idea...
You spread little kisses up his thighs... slowly going up until your lips ended on his underwear. You opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around his clothed balls, letting your hot breath tease him while you applied a little pressure with your lips.
You kept doing that, while your hand ran through his cock over his underwear. He wasn't fully hard yet, but he was getting there fast.
"Mmm so proud of you..." you moaned the words, sending a vibration that made him gasp.
"Baby..." He held tightly to the armrests on the chair.
"Hmmm?" You smirked.
"Please..." you weren't used to him sounding so... submissive. In other occasions he would probably grab the back of your head and pull his underwear down. But you couldn't deny you were loving this.
"Wanna suck you off, baby, make you feel so good..." you talked dirty, watching his now fully hard cock throbbing inside his underwear.
"Go ahead, sweet girl..." his knuckles turned white against the armrests.
"You don't look very relaxed." You teased.
"Hm." He chuckled. "Right, I'm not. It would relax me very much if you let me see those tits, baby, come on."
You smiled and stood up. Before he knew, your pretty silk dress fell to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your panties.
"You're a goddess." He adjusted himself on the chair again, so frustrated. "Come sit on my lap, princess."
You shook your head "no" and kneeled on that same spot again, between his legs. You could see a little wet spot on his underwear. Poor Jake was already leaking for you.
"Don't worry, baby..." You cooed. "Gonna get you some relief, yeah?"
You pulled his underwear down and he already left out a content sigh. But nothing compared to the sound he made when you wrapped your lips against the tip of his cock, licking all of his precum.
His hand landed softly on the back of your head, not pushing you or rushing you. More like encouraging you. So you took him as deep as you could.
You moved slowly. You gave him a show. Working your tongue on his favorite parts... the ones that got him uneasy on that chair. The eye contact and the way you moaned like you were having fun got him impossibly hard. The way you massaged his balls and eventually took them in your mouth as you stroked his shaft with your hand, got him bucking his hips, fucking your hand desperately.
"Shit, baby...." he grunted. "Getting close, so close..."
"Yeah?" You smiled. "Where do you want it, baby? Tonight's all about you..."
He couldn't think straight enough to give you an answer.
"Jake..." you squeezed the base of his shaft, making him moan painfully. "I'm afraid I can't let you cum if you don't talk to me..."
"Please, please, don't stop..." he shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on not letting go yet.
"Where, baby? Where do you want it?" You asked again, resuming your hand movements.
He wanted to scream I don't fucking care, just let me cum, but he figured it would be worse.
"Hmmm... come on, baby..." He moaned frustratedly. But soon enough he got a wave of pleasure and he realized he couldn't hold it anymore. "O-open your mouth for me, pretty girl... tongue out and... that's it, good girl, fuck, good girl..."
He could barely finish his phrase before you felt ropes of cum landing messily on your tongue, dripping down your chin.
You didn't stop stroking his cock until he put his hand on top of yours, forcing you to.
You stood up to grab a towel to clean yourself up. When you came back, you couldn't help but chuckle at his state. He was absolutely ruined against that chair. You rushed to sit on his lap.
"I love you." You kissed all over his face.
"I love you too." He left out that precious laugh. "So much, fuck, you're incredible."
"Let's get you to bed?" You suggested. "You really need some rest."
---
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moncherellie · 9 months
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hii!! i saw you were taking requests so can u write an knight!ellie x princess!reader period piece?
it was never meant to be
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a/n: thank you for the cool request! i don't know how i feel about this- never wrote for this time period before. it was a fun learning curve!! i hope you enjoy it. requests are open <3 please. please. tell me. smut or fluff or angst idc
-content/warnings: 1.8k words, fem!princess!reader x knight!ellie, arranged marriage/political marriage, mentions of reader having to marry a man, slight angst? happy ending though, feminine reader i suppose
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You were a goddess amongst mortals, treading the Earth lightly and gracing the barren ground with flowering spring beauty. There was an elegance to your touch. Anyone blessed enough to know you were changed for the better, your kindness and charity caressing their soul like hundreds of dandelion wisps in the wind. Heads turned when you walked down the pathways, villagers hoping to get a glimpse of their beloved princess, to catch her stray gaze as she passed. You were the kind of person who would never be subject to malice; even if someone wished they could despise you, the love behind your eyes would soothe their violent minds. Your soul seemed to be sculpted by the hand of a creator who endowed you with pure goodness.
Ellie’s skin was etched with years' worth of hardship, mental fortitude carved into her perpetually crinkled brow. Dirt caked her bloodstream, poisoning her soul as it moved through her heart. Behind her eyes was no mercy, no forgiveness, only seeking vengeance on some imaginary being that had seen no value in her from the moment of creation. It seems the same deity that sculpted you had been corrupted as it created her, molding her heart of ashes and skin of rotten wood. She was a decades-old shattered, rusty sword thrown into a river. No value. No hope. Only a broken promise of a better future that had been forgotten.
​​But your merciful, generous sight had befallen her by some stroke of luck. You recognized something good within her and gave her the chance she'd always dreamt about. You sponsored her induction into knight training, looking past her fiery faults and into the essence of her spirit, finding a spark of virtue. You tended to it until the ember became a blaze, and Ellie Williams became a force to be reckoned with. Despite the whispers of naysayers around the castle, there was something honorable and just inside her. There would never be enough words in the English language for Ellie to express her gratefulness to you properly. Even if there were, she couldn't string them together- she was never skilled with words. Instead, her every step carried a purpose: to echo your goodness through her actions.
Every so often, she'd find a quiet moment and reminisce upon the years of hardship she'd endured in training. Initially, she'd been one of the weakest pupils, lanky and malnourished but with a lust for improvement. She would cry herself to sleep the first year, and every night, she'd sneak out to see the dear princess, who would hold her and assure her that she belonged. It took time, but Ellie began to believe her. She sought comfort from you night after night, conversation topics turning personal after Ellie’s mental health had begun to improve. You’d talk about nothing and everything: silly hypotheticals, stories of growing up. The juxtaposition between your upbringing and hers was comical, but you both found comfort in learning about each others’ lives. 
When Ellie was with you, she felt like her social status didn’t matter. She was just a girl, and you were just the girl she was in love with. The class difference didn’t matter and neither did the impossibility of being together. Just two girls in love, neither with the courage to admit it. 
The lingering touches turn into shy smiles as Ellie sits in your room. Ornate tapestries adorn the walls and silk kerchiefs cast you in warm golden light- you look like a sun goddess in a long linen dress, your well-manicured hand coming to rest on Ellie’s knee as you laugh at something she said. Her rude humor was a welcome change to the sterility of castle life. You grew tired of the roles forced upon you by your authoritative parents and court, and vastly preferred Ellie’s brash personality. Your parents would have a collective aneurysm if they knew you were mingling with the ‘peasant knight’ (their words, obviously), so the two of you were reduced to sneaking around. 
Ellie’s smile dropped a bit as she felt your touch through her trousers. Her head felt dizzy and she attempted to compose herself, finding it hard to focus when your touch was so delicate and warm. Your call of her name was like a siren song, impossible to ignore its dulcet velvety tones. “Ellie?”
“Yes, Princess?”
You scoff. “Stop with the title. You know I hate it.”
Ellie smiles. A selfish thought crosses her mind- she wishes you were born normal, born in the village like her instead of in an ivory tower. Maybe then, things could have worked out. “That’s why I use it.” You laugh again, and she feels her stomach turn. Why couldn’t you be like me?
-
A week later, Ellie’s thoughts are the opposite. You sit in the throne room, grandiose decor embellishing the great chamber. Lavish royal purple flags and bright maroon banners drop and fold along the walls. Opulent chandeliers of pure wrought iron hang from the ceiling, supporting crystal fixtures through which valuable beeswax candles bathe the room in light. Stained glass rose windows and fleur de lys seem to further isolate Ellie, who stands guard by your throne. Invasive thoughts plague her as she keeps her professional face. I don’t belong here. I never have. I wish I was like you- then I could take you away from here. The thoughts are heightened when she sees the reason the entire town is gathered under the concave.
Four suitors from across the land vie for your hand in marriage. Ellie bites her tongue, her taste buds flooding with a familiar metallic sting. 
They don’t really want you, not like I do. All they want is power. They don’t treasure your time or your kindness. You deserve more. 
She clutches her spear, posture erect, seeming the quintessential knight. Only you noticed how her hand shook with nerves, how she seemed to hold onto the weapon as if letting go would kill her.
Each suitor takes time to introduce themselves. They focus on their own qualities, never talking about why they would be honored to be with you. And they would be. You sit on your throne, deep purple taffeta draping your body elegantly as you cross your legs. Aphroditic, a Hellenistic Roman statue come alive. Romantic, expressive, nymphlike in every way. If you were Euydice, Ellie thinks she must’ve been Orpheus. The anticipation of witnessing you choose your husband (and thus leaving her) was beginning to affect Ellie physically. Her heart felt like it would die in her chest: she swore she felt an arrhythmia. 
First, the suitor from the East describes what he would gift you if wed. As if you would be swayed by material possessions. The suitor from the South notes his conquests. The changes in your expression are minute, but Ellie knows the look. You’re entirely disgusted, and she clears her throat to catch your attention. You look over, the unimpressed look still donning your face, but your eyes light up when you see her. Ellie smiles- a silent reminder: I’m still here for you. It’s like you’re the only two people in the room.
The Western suitor wears his pants inside out, and your eyes immediately meet Ellie’s. You cover your mouth with your hand, appearing classy while chuckling and snorting behind your cover. 
The Northern suitor is handsome and decent, Ellie reluctantly admits. She’s not blind. She hates that she doesn’t hate him. He expresses interest in you and vows to give you autonomy. It’s basic, but more than the others offered. She tries to read your expression and for once, she can’t. It makes her heart drop. 
After every suitor is introduced, you and your court go into the back room to discuss your final decision. The decision that, whomever you choose, will ruin Ellie. She stands guard before the door, straining her hearing to find some clue that you won’t marry these men. She begs silently to whatever immortal being watches over her. 
You haven’t done much for me. I haven’t asked for much. But I’ll do anything to stop this. Please. 
A knock at the door signals Ellie to move away. She takes your hand and leads you back to the throne. You sit, and Ellie has to will herself to let go of you. What if this is the last time she’ll be able to hold you? The thought nearly brings her to her knees. Her joints ache with every step she takes away from you, returning to her post in front of the chancel. Your father stands, his creaking bones the only sound in the room. Everyone holds their breath as he speaks.
It’s detached apolitical jargon that Ellie can barely pay attention to. She thinks that if she doesn’t listen, the situation won’t become real. To her dismay, your father ends his aloof speech and presents you. Sir Williams has never felt so sober.
Ellie watches with wide eyes as you stand. She peers up at you from below the stage, and she can’t help but realize what a perfect metaphor this is. You stand above her, gilded and unobtainable, while she looks up, dreaming of what could’ve been. Of course, she’ll support any decision you make, but she’ll never be happy with it. It seems time moves gruelingly slowly as she awaits your voice. At any other moment, she’d be hanging off your every word, waiting excitedly for what you have to share next. But now, she hopes the words never come.
You open your mouth, words leaving in slow motion. She wants to close your mouth to shut you up and kiss you so hard that you never think about anyone else again. She doesn’t.
“Dearest suitors, I thank you for coming here today. Your travels are long and treacherous and your efforts do not go unnoticed. As noted by my father, I have come to a decision regarding my spouse. I am firm in my choice, as this is the most chivalrous, goodhearted, and impressive person I have met. The only person who understands me.”
Ellie is used to you switching from your formal persona to your true self, but she never gets over it. It’s you, but it’s not you. You stroll along the chancel, in thought, and Ellie takes the chance to admire everything about you as if this is the last time she’ll be able to. Posture, gait, the way you hold yourself as if you’re sure about every action. She doesn’t know you’re terrified beyond belief.
Your finger comes out to point to a suitor. The great hall inhabitants draw a collective breath, Ellie included. You drag your finger from the right side of the stage, passing over the suitors of the East, South, and West. Ellie knows where this is going. Of course, you’ll choose North. He was the obvious choice, and she couldn’t fault you for that. And suddenly, your finger passes by him.
Ellie’s mind races. What’s happening?
Your body turns, and soon, Ellie stares down your hand, furrowing her brow. Her eyes are filled with childlike hope.
“Ellie Williams, if you’ll have me?”
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A Jason Grace Analysis 
While my Jason fics relies on mainly interpretation and headcanons, this one’s mostly going on the limited list of Jason’s life from the books. YOU’RE ALLOWED TO DISAGREE WITH ME,JUST DO IT RESPECTFULLY IN THE COMMENTS. be nice pls.
Spoiler alert 🚨 (for PJO, HOO and TOA)
Jason Grace is a character who was, in a way, screwed over by Rick during his writing of Heroes of Olympus and eiDzgventually Trials of Apollo. His story was very sad, but never explored to its fullest potential and in some cases didn’t make sense. He’s a character who is seen as ‘boring’ by the fandom, which , in a way, makes sense. Uncle Rick didn’t do him justice, so I’m here for a Jason Grace analysis.
Firstly, Jason’s incredibly depressing life. Because I do not know what vendetta that Rick had against my boy, but I would argue his story is the most tragic of everyone in the books. Yes. Even Nico. 
Jason’s mother was an unhinged alcoholic who was obsessed with fame. For the first 2 years of his life, he was basically looked after by his sister, who was also a young child. As hard as Thalia tried, she probably wasn’t the best caregiver on account of her age. His mother was unstable, which has got to leave some scars, even if you’re a young kid, because you still know what’s going on to some extent. And Jupiter seemed to leave the family to their own devices after a while, not even staying for a kid. So Jason has been basically abandoned, keep track of how often that happens. 
Then Jason was abandoned again, this time by his mother, left as a sacrifice for Hera. And he wasn’t sacrificed just anywhere, he was left at the Wolf House, where Lupa tested him to see if he was ‘pup or food’. So Jason, at two years old, was tested by a Wolf Goddess, a ruthless one at that, who threatened to kill him if he didn’t live up to expectations. Just a great environment for a toddler to live in. And while the time he spends in the Wolf House is unspecified, the general consensus is that it was for a year or two. This is more of a headcanon, but the implications of ‘pup or food’ could show that he stayed with her longer than the average Roman demigod. In SoN, it’s shown that most demigods do their Wolf House training for like, a week. And the training sounds harsh when Percy, age 16 does it. So imagine a 2 year old, going through that, constantly. Then he is off to New Rome. 
In HoO, it’s pointed out that Jason has 12 lines of his forearm for his years of service in New Rome. 12 lines representing 12 years of service.
Jason has been serving 12 years of military service since he was around 3. So that means that this literal infant is just… in the military. How does that work? Was baby Jason just running around in little armour? Was he doing the same drills as other kids when he was much, much younger? Also the fact that in Camp Jupiter, you train for 10 years, then go to live in New Rome. But Jason has been serving for longer than that, with 2 extra years. It seemed like he wasn’t going to retire anytime soon in the books, so that also adds some mystique to his character that was never explored.
Then we move into the other things at Camp Jupiter, which is that Jason was treated like a statue or a star, instead of a person. Hazel says that he is ‘more legend than boy’ which is so sad! This kid, this 15 year old is seen by those around him as a hero, a legend to look up to. Did Jason have any other friends? While Reyna seems to be close, Reyna had a crush on him, and while he didn’t know that, it must have made the friendship a bit… different. Jason isn’t specified to have any other friends in the books, probably because everyone was to in awe of his status as a Son of Jupiter. And while Jason may care about the rules, in Roman terms he was a very radical person. He was just trying to live a calm life, to not be known only as the Son of Jupiter. He joins the least respected cohort. He tries to take less important quests. But it doesn’t work, because he does get assigned big quests and while he is in the 5th cohort, people still treat him like a legendary hero instead of just a guy. And while the phrase ‘victim of nepotism’ is quite controversial, I think that Jason actually fits that bill.
Then we come to SoN. You know that tweet that’s like: hey we’re calling off the search party. we found a different guy out there we like more. That’s what Camp Jupiter did to Jason. Again, he was abandoned, this time by his own Camp. Like I know 8 months is a while, but oh my gosh, do we have to elect a new praetor? There’s also a contradiction. Percy is a Greek demigod, which isn’t a thing the Roman’s really like. Yet after a couple weeks at Camp, he’s already a PRAETOR? While Jason was put down for being ‘unrecognisable as a Roman’, they elected a very Greek person as a praetor? He was immediately accepted into the highest position of power? Also the fact that Jason wasn’t looked for. At all. While CHB was scrambling to find their boy (as they should), no one in CJ cared? Like, aren’t they the ones with the giant searching eagles? It seemed like everyone forgot about him, with him being missing not being a huge thing for most people (except Hazel and Reyna to my memory, fill me in if anyone else gave two frogs) and that’s gotta sting. The knowledge that your entire camp not only replaced you, but didn’t bother to look. 
Jason also had amnesia and never regained huge chunks of his memory. That must be horrible, to have parts of your life gone, to not remember much. While Percy got everything back, Jason got so much less!
Jason goes on the quest, then comes back. He goes to CHB, goes to school. He starts having a normal life. And he gets broken up with, making him genuinely sad. And while I know that Piper had no ill intentions whatsoever when she broke up with him, that also could count as an abandonment. Because they don’t really keep in touch in the book, they seem to go their separate ways. So kinda half of an abandonment, even though both parties weren’t in blame.
Finally we have his death. While Thalia got turned into a tree by Zeus, a slightly caring act for a god, Jason died. This could be because Jupiter is crueller than Zeus or it could be because of the cycle of patricide, with Jupiter killing his father, who did the same to his father. Maybe it’s because of his paranoia. Maybe it’s because Jason called Jupiter unwise, but it still counts as an abandonment. The god saved Thalia (she could be seen as non threatening, not a killer. Not someone who could carry on the tradition of son killing father) and abandoned Jason, left him to die the ‘heroes death’. 
Jason’s life has been one big struggle and rejection. 4.5 times, he was abandoned, left somewhere by someone. Left to die in the end. He was a child soldier, meaning that he was a kid that never got to be a kid, just a tool for the gods, for years and years. And he struggled with making friends, making new rules, trying to push the camp into the future. Seen as unroman, even Reyna says it. That’s an awful life, one that Rick Riordan never explored and one that’s contradicted at times.
Jason was a character that Rick dropped the ball on so hard.
Because, while his life is incredibly difficult, it has so much potential for storytelling, that Rick  dashes on the rocks, leaving the fandom with a character who people acknowledge as weak and boring.
So, in the fandom, Jason is regarded as having no personality, or being a knock off Percy. So, Jason not really having a huge personality, as a kid who trained as a soldier from a young age, makes sense. He was spending half his childhood trying to survive so trying to figure out what MBTI type he was may have fallen low on his list of priorities. Then he got amnesia, and sent on the Seven quest. So Jason not having time to develop a sense of personality makes sense, buts here’s the catch. It’s never explored. Rick never, ever explains why that might be happening, which could make for a compelling story arc. Rick never expands on the child soldier thing at all, which sucks because instead of Jason having an identity crisis about Greek and Roman camps, he could be really weird since he’s a child soldier. (I’m aware that they’re all child soldiers, but I refer to Jason as child soldier since he was just a baby when he started)
And the seeds were there. For example, the scene with Jason being wary about Nico and not wanting to rescue him, that could have been Jason being taught that practicality is key. That some people are expendable. He could have learnt that from the ARMY THAT HE GREW UP IN. That could have been a plot point, that Jason struggles with taking breaks or knowing that’s he’s appreciated, that his childhood was abusive and not normal, that life isn’t a constant battle for survival. That could have been his arc! All of the pieces were right there! Rick, dude, you’re a great author, but you fumbled so hard on this one!
And also the fact that… unpopular opinion time….
Jason wasn’t stronger than Percy, but he should have been.
Jason has been in the army since he was a toddler, and I know that Percy’s really powerful, but come on! Jason being this really nice, really powerful kid with super strong powers and no social skills could have slayed. Maybe this is the inner Jason stan in me, but I personally think that Jason should have been stronger than Percy, simply because it makes more sense. Jason has been training for ages and ages, he single handedly fought a Titan at younger than Percy (around 14 or 15) so it seemed like his powers were muted by Rick. This could probably be because the PJO fandom is like a toxic TikTok boy mom when it comes to Percy (I can be like this too), making him centre stage and getting annoyed when he isn’t. Percy is meant to be the strongest, which isn’t bad, in some situations it just doesn’t fit. Or maybe Percy’s just wildly OP.
This is not to say that in the book Jason was weak, but people treat him like that.
And Jason’s really sad life is never explored! He should have been struggling with 1500 mental illnesses at once because that constant abandonment? The stress of everyone’s expectations? Trying not to die at like 4? He’s neither the eldest nor a girl, but he’s got so much eldest daughter syndrome and is burnt out gifted kid syndrome personified. And it’s hardly touched on! 
There’s also the fact that’s a really small nitpick, but, the fact that Jason only has 1 single lip scar? That shows that Rick wasn’t paying attention to his own character. Jason trained with the Wolf Goddess then was in the army, he should be covered in them.
In conclusion, Jason’s very sad and tragic story was hardly utilised and the very interesting parts of his character were not used in a way they could be. But don’t worry Jason. While Rick Riordan may have flopped you, you are one of my favourite characters.
Peace ☮️
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esamastation · 8 months
Text
Shizuroth, part five.
-
Sephiroth looks panicked. 
Genesis looks him over with an experienced eye, swiftly and with increasing concern.
Defensive stance with his back to a wall and the Restroom's only exit clear in sight. His face is pale - well, it's always pale, but now he looks practically grey. Shadows under his eyes, wide eyes, mouth slack. Well, for Sephiroth, anyway. The man has a resting face of a statue carved by the thirstiest of hands, and sometimes Genesis wonders if he has a partial facial paralysis, so little does it change. But he can tell the difference between Sephiroth with a resting face and Sephiroth with a spooked face.
"Sephiroth," Genesis greets him.
"... Genesis," Sephiroth says, and it doesn't sound even vaguely irritated. Mostly he sounds confused.
How concerning!
Side effects, then, bad ones. He'd managed to get out of Injections without being held back, so they're not physical. Mental.
No outward aggression, his pose is subtly defensive, shoulders ever so slightly curled in, holding his PHS in both hands. Was he messaging someone? Unlikely, with Sephiroth, he must've been reading something, trying to distract himself, misdirect whatever is going on in his head. Or…
Or it's that… other side effect.
Genesis had been gearing up to annoy Sephiroth back into sanity, but with this new information he quickly changes tacks. Sephiroth isn't about to lose it - he already did. "I heard you were locked up in injections for a full day. How bad was it?"
Sephiroth hesitates and his fingers tighten around the phone. Then he looks down. Demurely?
What?
"Three times the maximum dose," Sephiroth says.
Oh. "What, are they trying to kill you now?" Genesis asks incredulously. "See how far they can push the envelope before it bursts into flames? Questionable indeed is the wisdom of a professor, by the Goddess." Sephiroth's doses are already the highest in the program.
Sephiroth looks at him weirdly. "... Well, my heart did stop," he says finally. "Apparently."
Genesis makes a face. "Condolences," he says, wincing sympathetically. That was always the worst. "What's the damage?"
"I'm fine," Sephiroth says quickly.
"Ha! My friend, legend shall speak of this day," Genesis points out, motioning around them, at the restroom. "Of the greatest warrior - holed up post-op in the Restroom. You scared the poor Third Class who was here, he sent out an SOS."
Sephiroth scrunches up his nose at that, mouthing that, SOS. "And so you're here to save my soul?" he asks bitchily.
Heh, already he's starting to feel better. And to think Lazard panicked about Angeal not being in Midgar to take care of it. Little does he know - Genesis is the best at this.
"I shall be your hero of dawn at this hour," he agrees and steps closer. No defensive reaction, so he dares to reach out. "It's alright, my friend - we've all been there."
Sephiroth looks uncomfortable with Genesis' hand on his arm but doesn't try to knock it off. "I…" he says and then glances down at Genesis' chest. He looks resentful.
Being such a big man, he does small and defensive poorly. It's like watching a dragon curl in a corner. Tragic and kind of terrifying.
"Feel like you got a hole in your head?" Genesis says knowingly. "All your thoughts rattled, memories all up in the air? Any idea about how much you lost?"
"I'm fine -"
"Last year I came out of the labs and I couldn't recite half of the dialogue from LOVELESS!" Genesis admits bluntly. "It was unbearable, I was beside myself for a week - I had to re-memorise the whole thing."
Sephiroth looks confused at that, giving him a wary look. "That's…" he trails away, uncertain.
"A common side effect. Happens to everyone, to some extent," Genesis assures him easily. Honestly, he thought it happened most to Sephiroth. He has the personality of a man chemically lobotomised… like a lot of the early SOLDIER candidates. "Mako gives and Mako takes. In the wake of these crashing waves, we do our best to fill in the broken flood barriers of our minds. So. What is the damage?"
Sephiroth hesitates. "It's… nothing I can't figure out on my own."
Obviously, and even if he couldn't, it wouldn't matter - Shinra didn't keep them on Mako for their brains or their wit. Sephiroth could lose his mind and become a drooling idiot, and Shinra would still pump raw force into his veins, so long as he did their bidding. Which is honestly a shame - Sephiroth, when he could be annoyed into it, had a poetic sense of humour and came across as an intellectual.
"My friend, fates are cruel," Genesis says, shaking his head. "But we need not face their winds alone. What can't you remember?" He was obviously trying to look up something, after all.
Sephiroth looks away, his eyes troubled, and hides behind the PHS. "... My room," he admits finally. "I can't… figure out where my room is."
Genesis carefully doesn't laugh at that. It's not funny. It happens to a lot of fresh SOLDIER, and it's never not hilarious, watching baby Thirds bumbling around like lost ducklings - but it's not funny now. Sephiroth must be seriously distressed. He doesn't know how to get home!
A snicker manages to slip through, and Sephiroth glares at him, hard. "Apologies, apologies, my friend," Genesis says and grins. "Happens to the best of us. Apparently! Did you not check your key card?"
Sephiroth scowls and digs around his pockets, bringing our four key cards. He looks at them with embarrassed frustration and Genesis picks out the one to his private room. "Here - the floor and room number is written right here."
"... Ah," Sephiroth says.
Oh! Genesis didn't know Sephiroth could blush!
Oh… oh, that is terrible, that's utterly horrible.
Genesis clears his throat. "Come, my friend, let me escort you to your dwelling," he says and motions grandly to the door. "Where we shall partake in that awful tea you favour and lament our pride lost!"
Sephiroth, still looking a little flushed, makes another bitch face at him and then allows himself to be herded out of the sanctuary of the Restroom.
Genesis despairs.
This man, this most devastating of individuals, tall and broad and proud and terribly handsome, isn't supposed to be cute!
-
I have decided that Genesis has the emotional intelligence brain cell and that's how he convinced bunch of SOLDIERs to defect with him; he's the wine mom friend.
Also watch me headcanon SOLDIER lore up the wazoo...
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frenchkisstheabyss · 10 months
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♡ wanna be yours♡
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♡ Pairing: bouncer!bang chan x stripper!chubby!fem!reader
♡ Summary: You've had your eye on a bouncer who works at your club for the longest time. Tonight may just be the night that you get your chance with him
♡ Genre: smut/angst-ish
♡ Word Count: 1.5kish
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♡ Warnings: light violence during fight scene, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, dick riding (in the fun sense)
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If years of being a dancer have taught you anything it’s how to pretend to give a shit when you’d much rather be at home vegetating. It’s not that you hate your job. You simply aren’t always in the mood to socialize. But the club’s packed tonight and bills need to be paid.
At least the customers are generous, the music’s tolerable, and your best friend’s scheduled to work with you. Spinning around on the pole, you spot her over by the bar lighting a sparkler inside a bottle of champagne. She waves to you, blowing you a kiss. You blow one right back at her.
A sweet moment's swiftly interrupted by the thud of a body crashing onto your platform. With the music blaring overhead, you hadn’t noticed the fight breaking out behind you between bouncers and a few frat boys who’ve clearly had one too many vodka shots. The frat boy laid out at your feet has blood gushing from his nose, ruining his shirt and risking the safety of your brand new stilettos.
He sees the bouncer responsible for his broken nose headed in his direction and so do you. Both of your heart rates increase for opposing reasons. His because, despite his blurred vision, he’s ready to go another round. Yours because the bouncer in question is Bang Chan or Channie as he lets you call him.
You’ve had an embarrassingly heavy crush on the platinum blonde haired Aussie since your first night working here. Somehow you’ve managed to remain oblivious to the fact that the feeling’s mutual. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of the frat boy sneaking a knife from his pocket.
You stomp down on his wrist, applying your full weight, and you feel something crunch beneath your heel. He cries out in pain, the knife falling to the floor. Now his nose isn’t the only thing that’s broken.  Chan grabs him by the shirt, tossing him into the arms of two other bouncers waiting nearby.
You’ve never seen him this angry before but his rage is fleeting when he rises from retrieving the knife and lays eyes on you. He smiles up at you, basking in your beauty like you’re one of those goddess statues in a museum. Masterfully carved in marble and perfect in every sense of the word.
“My hero” he gasps, hand over his heart. You roll your eyes, “Dramatic much?” Chan takes your manicured hand, kissing it so gently that it sends a chill through your body. “Thank you. I mean it. I owe you one.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand, your gazes lingering on each other as the rest of the world fades away.
It returns with a roar as the fight erupts again. “I, uh…” he stutters, torn between the longing to stay with you and his obligation to fulfill his duties. “Go. Do your job. No slacking” you tease, shooing him away. Chan blushes, grateful that the darkness of the club conceals it, and disappears into the crowd.
Being the professional that you are, you immediately go back to dancing. Your mind’s even farther gone than before, floating somewhere in the clouds treasuring the tingle left behind by his kiss like it’s gold. 
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“Absolutely not” you sing, slamming the door to your locker. In the dressing room girls crowd around a half dozen vanities, dashing between clothing racks, hurrying to put the finishing touches on their looks before they’re called to the floor. You, on the other hand, have already changed into a hoodie and a cozy pair of sweats.
The night’s over for you. At least it was before your best friend cornered you, begging to borrow your car. “Oh, come on. Please, please, please” she pouts, “It’s only until tomorrow and I’ll give it right back.” “And how exactly am I supposed to get home?” The grin that spreads across her glitter speckled face is adorable and concerning all at once.
Throwing her coat on, she takes your hand and drags you through one of the side doors where Chan leans against his car waiting for you. With the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled up and a few buttons undone, you get a peek at the tattoos covering his muscular form. Whatever workout this man does has done sinfully good things to his body. 
Your best friend plucks the car keys from your hand, nudging you forward, “You look out for my girl, Bang Chan!” “I’ll take good care of her” he promises, opening the door for you. There’s something sensual about the way he says that. “I’ll take good care of her.” You throw the bag on your shoulder into the backseat, hesitating to get in yourself.
“You really don’t have to do this.” “I owe you, remember?” Unable to argue with him, you hop in and put your seatbelt on.  As sexy as he looks walking around to the driver’s side, you wouldn’t object to being taken care of by him.
You pinch yourself on the arm, shaking off the thought of anything happening between the two of you. He probably doesn’t want it to. Even if he did, you work together. Something like that would never happen. It can’t...
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An hour’s passed and you’re thrown across your bed, knees pressed to your chest, breathing like a pregnant woman in a Lamaze class. You have no clue where your clothes went but honestly, who the hell cares? Chan’s face is buried between your legs, slurping at your pussy like it’s the only thing he’s eaten in 48 hours.
Though that may not technically be true, you definitely taste better than any meal he’s had in recent memory. Your bed’s soaked from how wet you are, a year’s worth of anticipation dripping from his chin. He sucks your clit between his lips, circling it with his tongue and pulling away.
He repeats this over and over again, edging you to the point that you’re a trembling, overstimulated wreck. “Channie…” you whine, your eyes falling close as your nails dig into the sheets below. Chan grabs onto your lush hips, lifting you away from him, “Keep them open.
I wanna see those pretty eyes when I make you cum.” You pry them open and catch him staring up at you with nearly the same look he had at the club. Only now there’s an insatiable hunger behind those eyes. Grinding you down against his face, his tongue plunges into the depths of your warmth.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” is all you can say when he has you coming apart at the seams. “Mmm” he hums, sensing how close you are by the way your walls clench around his tongue. He flexes it along your g-spot and you’re cumming harder than you ever have. Your body’s twisting, pitiful moans fill the air, fingers grasping at his hair.
This must be what it feels like to have a demon exorcized or to be possessed by one. Either way, there’s nothing in this world like it. Even as your body goes limp, your mind going cloudy, Chan’s still kitten licking your slit to gather every drop of your juices. When he finally stops, he straightens your legs out, massaging them as he trails wet kisses up your stomach.
He takes the hand previously responsible for breaking someone’s nose and delicately toys with your nipples. They perk up for him, making each graze of his fingertip twice as intense. He drags his tongue over your bud. Up your chest. Along your chin. You open your mouth to catch your breath and he’s pulling you into a decadent kiss, laced with the sweetness of your arousal. 
“I knew you’d taste amazing but that was…” he groans, using two fingers to stroke between your folds, “I could stay between those thighs all night.” “You’ll have to come up for air at some point” you tease. Chan wraps his arms around your waist, hooking an arm behind your knee, “Breathing is overrated.”
In one fluid motion, he’s rolled you over on top of him, his thick cock resting against your twitching clit. Your legs are as structurally solid as jello but you manage to prop yourself up on them, fingers running along his length. “Is this all cause of lil old me?” you ask, dipping your thumb in the precum leaking from his tip and licking it off. 
Chan cups your cheek into his palm and you nuzzle it, kissing his palm. “Can I keep you?” You giggle at the question, raising your hips and sinking down onto him. “You can'' you moan, rotating your hips in graceful figure eights that have him ready to implode. A mixture of pleasure and panic floods his system.
It’d be embarrassing to cum this quickly but you’re making it impossible. It takes everything he has to hold back watching you have this much fun using his dick to make yourself feel good. 
Chan gets it, how men can throw everything in their pockets at you when you’re on stage. He’d empty every bank account in his name to have you sit on his face. Just sit there. Not even move.
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