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#barde manor
vampire-lord-garfield · 7 months
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I KNOW YA'LL DON'T SHIP SEBARD BUT PLS JUST HEAR ME OUT! Imagine servants greeting Ciel and Seb post Compania ark. And Seb is just covered in human bites (weird dolls) and has a massive fuck0you wound in the middle of his torso. Like even in canon he was pretty fucked up by that scythe and i headcanon that his body can't do it's usual demon healing magic on that wound. All energy goes in keeping him alive, so his injuries heal at human speed. So when they finally arrive at the manor who else then a army veteran wound treat his wounds. (You can't tell me Seb would allow human doctor look at his weird otherworldly anatomy, especially when you can see his freaking insides...). Imagine how triggering that would be to Bard. His mind would probably be on autopilot until he was finished. And then flashbacks to both war and his family dying. And like he thought of Sebastian as a "superhuman", a constant. Seeing him injured and in need of HIS help is verging on uncanny valley... (Also he saw this dude literally eat bullets. It would be kinda scary to think what was at sea that would fuck up Seb so badly... With human teeth no less.). --- Seb probably hasn't been so close to his own mortality in a long time so the whole experience doesn't sit right with him either... But even more weird is SOMEONE ELSE worrying ABOUT HIM. I like to think that he would be absolutely shit at comforting someone distressed about his wellbeing. Like his whole experience with that is comforting a bratty 12 years old and dealing with Ciel's nightmares. And here is a grown ass man with PTSD. He is so uniquely unprepared to deal with it. He tries his best, which is absolute worst, until Bard just asks him to shut up. And like he is probably not in a right mind either. He failed, he lost the fight, he got injured and then they basically run. And the whole "possibility of dying thing" is not a concept an immortals creature really thought about. He asks Bard to sleep at his room. Totally for Bard's sake. Not because of the latest events or because most demons don't like sleeping alone. Cause in hell that would just make you an easy target to others.
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penandinkprincess · 2 years
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oh
oh no
geralt who actually has had people try to follow him around before. in the history of all of his years on the continent, of course there would be a few intrepid (or stupid, he thinks) who want to tag along. but all of them. every single one. has always gotten bored or scared or just wanted him for some purpose of their own (lust, greed, etc.)
so he knows how it goes when jaskier turns up. mouthy kid looking for an adventure (and a fuck) tags along, gets spooked or bored, and then leaves. it’s how it goes. it’s why geralt isn’t thrown at all when jaskier starts tagging along. he’s played this game before. 
but then
jaskier doesn’t leave? he keeps staying? he says he’ll find geralt again in spring and then does it?? geralt only told him what town he’d start in bc he hadn’t thought it would matter???? and now it’s been years and jaskier is still with him? this is breaking every single pattern?
and then the mountain happens
pattern broken indeed. 
by geralt.
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magicalara · 10 months
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The Scents Of Kuroshitsuji: Phantomhive Manor
@briccy started asking me about the scents of characters. Now here we are. I'm gonna see if I make a series out of this so we're starting with the Phantomhive Manor and next will probably be the reapers. If there are any specific people or groups you'd like to see, send an ask and I'll fit it in somewhere! Enjoy!!
TW: mentions of death but like it's black butler, what do you want from me. also Ciel is o!ciel I'm not gonna do r!ciel or the 'rents unless asked otherwise lol sorry
Ciel Phantom:
The Earl of Phantomhive doesn't have a distinct smell as it changes with the environment and the mission he's on. For example, if the Queen hasn't given him a task and he's just working on Funtom stuff or is just generally in the manor or town house, he smells like paper, ink, and books. However, given he needs to be in places like the circus grounds in the Noah's Arc ark, he smells of dirt and sweat. Alternatively, if his mission requires him to mingle amongst the rich, he smells clean, like soap. Sebastian might also put a sweet smelling perfume on Ciel if he needs to up the whole "child Earl" thing.
Sebastian Michaelis:
Sebastian, like Ciel, has a main scent which morphs depending on the environment he's spending the most time in. When he's in the manor, though, I like to think he has the continuous scent of sweets or baked goods (especially chocolate) on him because he makes the stuff for Ciel. However, he does always have a faint undertone of a dangerous scent to him. It isn't blood, and it isn't death. But it does radiate danger. This is amplified when he's going demon mode or it's night time, specifically between the hours of 11:30 PM to about 4 AM and most intense between 12:30 AM and 1:00 AM. His dangerous scent is like that of a predator, waiting to capture it's next soul.
Mey-Rin:
Mey-Rin is curious because, while she does have a nice sized collection of perfumes (mostly from Ann when she was alive and Nina Hopkins), she doesn't use them as often as one might think. She only uses it during special occasions, such as an important big event (like the show in mbditw), or if she feels she's loosing touch with her femininity again. This is especially true after nights where she has to revert to assassin mode such as in Book of Circus. Otherwise, she just smells like general cleaning supplies such, mostly laundry detergent.
Baldroy:
Bard smells like smoke. Cigarette smoke, usually, but sometimes firearm smoke as well from guns, bombs, etc. But it isn't in a bad way. Because of his soldier background, it fits him. It fits his look, his accent (in my head, not the anime idk what they did in the anime), his vibe. It's almost comforting and protective in a sense. He was a dad and now protects and looks after the manor as is his job but also after Mey Rin and Finny because those are his best friend and almost child respectively. He knows they can protect themselves, but he also wants to protect them as best he can and the smokey scent surrounding him brings comfort vibes, especially to them. Not to Sebastian, though, who gets the startings of a headache when he smells smoke for too long, even if Bard isn't around.
Finnian:
Finny smells like outside. Dirt, trees, grass, certain flowers depending on the season. Point is, he smells like the essence of nature. He loves spending time outside because of his past, and, if left alone long enough, he would spend all day just messing around outside. He always has dirt under his nails and, on working days, specks of it around his face.
Tanaka:
Tanaka has different scents depending on who you ask. To Sebastian, it's an old soul who's very respectable (he doesn't taste like a normal human, I doubt he smells like one either so yes, he can smell souls). To the trio, it's the tea he drinks as well as a soft bookish scent. Like an old book in a library. To Ciel, though, it's comfort. He smells like home. Tanaka is the longest companion he's held, and he's most relaxed around him.
Snake:
Snake doesn't have a smell. Snakes don't smell like anything, and neither does he. The only time when he does have some sort of scent is if someone like rubs dirt on him or uses perfume or cologne or something like that. And even then, it doesn't last long and you'd have to continuously keep putting it every like 30 minutes to an hour if you want it to stick. Sometimes, though, this comes in handy for when he needs to sneak around.
The Phantomhive Manor:
The last is the manor itself. To outsiders, it smells like house. A fancy house full of expensive things. To those in the know, it smells like blood. To those who live there, it smells like home. To Ciel, it smells like the past. Even though it's an entirely different structure, he can still faintly smell his mother's perfume in the library, the scent of his father's favorite ink in the study, the scent of his aunt who would do house calls for his asthma in where his childhood bedroom was. It's home, but it's also so bittersweet for someone who lost his family so quickly. Special inclusion: to Undertaker, it smells like regret.
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abybweisse · 1 year
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Ch194 (p5), Disappearance of Noah's Ark Circus
Well, Doll seems to be more staff than student, but it doesn't particularly matter, since she's the bizarre doll that the Corgis have been selected for. She has full run of the place and seems to help keep the kids focused on their expected tasks. (Poor Nick 😢)
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Finny is more uncomfortable seeing this room that Doll has taken them to for tea. I just know Finny and Snake have either been here before, or this place is modeled after a place they've both been to....
But now it's time to get down to Finny and Snake's business... and Snake's personal quest.
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As Finny gets more and more unsettled by the place and their conversation regarding Noah's Ark Circus, Snake seems to be putting two and two together. Having worked at Phantomhive Manor for a while, and having travelled with/for our earl on a few assignments, he's probably starting to realize that our earl and Sebastian likely got rid of those circus troupe members.
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It seems she was never told by Undertaker (or anyone else) what actually happened to them. So far, she hasn't even said that "Smile" was really the Phantomhive kid they were supposed to capture and take to "Father". Then again, that would require her to admit they had been kidnapping kids and had been ordered to target "Ciel" Phantomhive. So, she might not know that Joker and Baron Kelvin died inside Kelvin's manor or that the others were killed by Finny, Mey-Rin, Baldo, and Tanaka. As far as she can tell, she was being left behind by the others.
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They simply "disappeared", and she lost everything she had known and essentially everyone she had loved.
I want to see if she remembers what our earl said at the end and what Sebastian did to her... or did Undertaker snip that part out of her cinematic records? If so, that would explain why she recalls "Finnian" who became "Smile"... but doesn't seem to mind being in league with real Ciel.
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bapydemonprincess · 9 months
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What if an actual good ordained priest comes to the manor lol?
Oh I actually have the best thing for that
The priest:
youtube
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deevotee · 1 year
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thinking about finny being canonically handsome...thinking about him getting flirted with every time they go out shopping in london...thinking about ciel being veeeery jealous and everyone thinks its cuz he's envious of finny but no, hes just the only one allowed to flirt with him thank you very much
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thefictioness · 6 months
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1. Dream
This work is part of a Kuroshitsuji Fictober series. For more information, click here!
It was the dead of the night, and all in the mansion was quiet. The young master had been put to bed by Sebastian, who then returned to his own room to fill out administrations at his desk. The other servants finished their tasks for that day and were sent to their bedchambers by Tanaka. Baldroy and Finny had said goodnight to the others, and were now lying on one ear. Or at least, Baldroy was lying on one ear, shielding his other ear with his pillow, trying to drown out the snoring from Finny, who was positioned like a starfish. Bardroy has had to sleep in all kinds of excruciating situations during his time as a soldier, but somehow Finny’s need to mow the grass in the middle of the night always took the cake. Reluctantly, Bardroy opened an eye to glance over to the other bed. In the dark, he could make out Finny’s form, now tossing and turning, kicking his blanket to the ground. “That won’t do…” Bardroy grumbled to himself. He got up, his mind stuck between muting Finnian with his pillow or tucking him in tight so he wouldn't catch a cold, when suddenly his young companion shrieked and sat upright. “Waaaaaah!” “Finny! Bloody hell!” Bardroy ducked for cover as Finny flung his arms around in a frenzy. Breathing heavily, he seemed to finally calm down after recognizing Bardroy’s voice. Bardroy turned on the light on their nightstand and gleaned over to Finny. In the flickering light, he saw that the youngster was drenched in sweat and teary eyed. He sat down at the edge of Finny’s bed. “Had a bad dream?” Finny didn’t respond. Instead, he hugged his knees to his chest. Bardroy chewed his lip. He couldn’t exactly fathom what Finny had gone through before arriving at the manor, but telling from his reaction to his nightmare, it could only mean one thing. You see it all the time in military folk, as Bardroy had awoken to his own and his comerade’s screams more than once. He placed his hand on Finny’s head, who flinched but didn’t swat him away. “Don’t worry, you’re out of that place now. And no one here will treat you that way. You’re safe.” The youngster began to sob. “I… I felt the needles again… And I heard them… Their voices…” Bardroy frowned and patted Finny on the back. At that moment, a knock was heard on their door. Finny yelped, while Bardroy got up and took a combative stance. “Who’s there?” He demanded. “It is me, Sebastian. The two of you are making quite some noise.” Bardroy sighed in relief and opened the door. There stood the butler, Sebastian, holding a candle and still dressed in his work attire. Doesn’t this guy ever sleep? “Finny was having a nightmare. He’s very shaken.” Sebastian glanced around Bardroy to take a look at Finny, who was still huddled on his bed. He sighed. “Try to calm him down some more while I fetch some water.” Bardroy nodded. Sebastian disappeared around the corner. It didn’t take long before he returned. He handed Finny a cup of warm milk and Bardroy a wet cloth. While Finny downed the milk, Bardroy tried to dab his head, drenching off the sweat. Finny hiccupped. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Sebastian,” he sobbed. Before Sebastian could answer, however, Bardroy jumped in. “No need to be sorry. Everyone has things from their past that are difficult to deal with. You’re an exceptional gardener and there is no way they’ll lay you off over something trivial like this.” He looked over to Sebastian for confirmation, but the butler was just standing in the corner, an unreadable smile on his face.  Finny put the cup down. “Thank you, I’m feeling much better,” he smiled weakly. Bardroy grinned. “No problem.” He handed the cup and cloth back to Sebastian. “Very well then, get some more sleep. I need you both to do your best again tomorrow.” “Yes Mr. Sebastian!” They said in unison. With that, Sebastian left and the two got settled into their beds once more. Bardroy rolled to his side, making eye contact with Finny. “Thank you Bardroy.” “No problem Finny, that’s just what comrades are for. Good night.”
He turned off the lights.
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Can I request something about Bardroy proposing to his S/O? 😊
heck yeah!! I am so soft for him aaaaaaaa
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Lord, he’s so damn nervous!! Are his hands shaking? Yeah, no, his hands are definitely shaking as he tries to prepare everything he’s trying to set up. He wants this night to be special, because his S/O deserves it. Besides… a marriage proposal should be special, shouldn’t it? He thinks if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right. So he tries very hard to keep things just so. Even if he can’t quite the meal properly made, Sebastian rescues the day, transforming it into (Name)’s favorite. The other servants… try to help? Once they get wind of what Bard is doing, he lets them help. Mey Rin can set the table, Finny can arrange (Name)’s favorite flowers from the garden. He’s grateful that his friends want to give him a hand, even if it ends up not quite being perfect.
It’s still a nice night. Despite the others attempt to keep shoving themselves in and get a look at the romantic scene, Sebastian manages to shoo them off. Eventually Bard is able to get alone with his S/O, and tell them how much they mean to him. For so long he really was convinced that he wouldn’t really find love like them ― that he was sort of broken and nobody could ever find anything to admire in him. He thinks they’re still a bit crazy to find any part of him attractive, but… he just thinks he’s so lucky. And he doesn’t want to ever go a day without them now that he has them. They’ve made him feel so much more like himself, so much more himself when he’s with them… he’s so happy they’re in his life. He can’t imagine not getting to go to sleep with his arms around them.
So… what do they say…?
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crimsonfacets · 2 years
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Seems no one’s takin’ her seriously when she says there’s an apparition of an old woman in the garden.... but there’s an apparition of an old woman in the garden.
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enby-ralsei · 2 years
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all i've ever known from hadestown but fnc
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lijojo · 9 months
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genshin sugar daddies
premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for every day of the week. a bit overwhelming, right? however, you somehow find ways to make time for each and every one of them, no matter how emotionally and physically demanding they are. it's just that, now they don't seem too keen on sharing, and you don't know what to do. (modern au)
tw: nsfw, dark content - minors dni
mondays are always harder in more ways than one. mondays are diluc's days, and that means that you're spending a good portion of your nights at angel's share.
on mondays, it's happy hour. which means that you're sitting at a booth in the corner looking pretty while diluc is tending to his customers. you're more than happy to sit back and relax while you wait for him to finish with work. when the drinks are on the house, you're willing to wait as long as it'll take.
periodically, when he's not busy, however, he'll walk over to you and engage in conversation. you act as a taste-tester for new drinks so he's always asking you if you like them. you two will talk about your day, any interesting events, and so on until diluc is pulled back into work again.
then you're back to fiddling your fingers and watching him work. over time, you've learned that he preferred that you not do anything while you were supposed to be with him. that instead, you fixated your gaze on him while he moved about. sometimes you'll catch him looking at you to see if your eyes are still on him.
even while he's dealing with a certain tone-deaf bard, there's something about the way he looks at you so intently that reminds you of a predator.
when angel's share closes, you're there to keep him company while he cleans up. when he's done, he'll sweep you away back to his manor.
you'll fall onto the sheets as he grinds against you. his shallow breaths brush against your throat. the look he gives you is nothing short of intense.
"everyone at the tavern was looking at you, you know," he mutters, running his fingers down your chest, sinking into your pants. he pulls them down effortlessly along with your panties. "didn't you feel it, darling? their filthy eyes on you. they want to ruin you. everyone wants to ruin you."
he throws your legs over his shoulders, his fingers crawling up your thighs. you jump when he suddenly inserts two fingers into your cunt, scissoring you. his free arm wraps around your leg to keep you locked against him. his eyes are glued onto you as he presses a kiss against your calf.
"but your eyes were on me all night, weren't they. couldn't take your eyes off me, could you. you're mine, dear. do you hear me? you're mine."
you don't overlook how tight his grip is. tight enough to make you wonder if he'll ever let you go. in the morning, he does, but you're scared for the day he wakes up and decides that it's for the last time.
tuesdays aren't as bad. when you’re sore from the night before, childe is there to take you out to meals, shopping, and sightseeing. he's not always available to spend time with you on tuesdays, because of his equally-demanding job and whatnot, but when he is free, he never wastes a second.
or a dollar.
childe smirks smugly from his sea. his posture is lax, one hand lazily tracing circles on the chair's arm while the other comes up to rest under his chin.
"how about you twirl for me, girlie? you look so beautiful."
you giggle, observing yourself in the mirror. "why thank you."
you bask in the way the soft satin kisses your skin. the way your newly-own earrings sparkle under the dressing room's light. just a couple years ago, you could've only dreamed of being dressed so prettily.
"do your side-bitches ever treat you as well as me?"
"childe!" you chide.
he laughs, getting up from his seat. but you both know better than to believe his little chuckle is genuine.
he approaches you, sliding his hands around your waist. tucking your head under his chin, he stares at you through the mirror's reflection.
you don't say anything, and childe doesn't either. it appears he's more than happy to enjoy just standing there. his gaze is glossed over, far away.
the two of you sway side to side for what seems like forever until he decides to say something.
"do they buy you pretty things like i do?"
of course they do, you think. although you spend one-on-one time with each and every one of them, they are all aware of each other. it's only right that they did. it was the first thing you said when you brought the idea up to them, that it wasn't going to be exclusive.
but when you see the way he looks at you, you can't really tell him the truth. not when his focus is redirected from his thoughts to you.
"the things you buy me are a special kind of pretty," you reply.
it seems like that answer is enough for him, because he doesn't say anything else. instead he hums quietly, letting the vibration ripple in the back of your head. he slides his hands down your hips and before you can say anything else, he whips his head around.
"i'll buy these sets." he motions over to the closest clothes rack to an attendant you hadn't noticed. "and that one. and the dress she's wearing. how many colors does this come in, by the way?"
the attendant doesn't hesitate. "five colors, sir. they come in bla—"
"great." he shuffles through his pocket to pull out a black card. "pack them up, we won't be here any longer," he retorts.
the attendant looks ecstatic, quickly shuffling out of the dressing rooms towards the cash register with newfound glee.
"childe," you whine. "i don't think these will fit in my closet."
his hands crawl lower, his finger hovering over your clit. "then they'll fit in mine. come over any time of the week when you want to wear one of my special pretty things."
your breath hitches as he rubs slow circles on your clit. he pushes the two of you back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.
"what are you doing, she'll be back any second—"
he kisses the corner of your jaw, pressing his lips close to your ear. "no worries. if there's one thing i'm sure about, it's that no one undresses you faster than i do."
wednesday is when usually everything calms down. kazuha will typically invite you to a new park, scenic route, or gallery. together, you'll write haikus, sonnets, and limericks together. some hours you'll just sit in silence, putting pen to paper. and when the sun goes down you'll exchange poetry.
out of the seven men, kazuha probably scares you the most. he was the first person you decided to do this whole ordeal with, after all. and since he's known you the longest, he also knows about your circumstances more than others. maybe that's why he's so focused on treating you as if you were a fragile cherry blossom petal. his touches feel like ghosts, running down your forearm as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.
in exchange for his protection, his money, and his care, you give him honeyed words. you act as his muse for when he's hit a creative block. you're there to listen to him read out verses when the wind can't bear the strength to carry them. you listen to his grief about his best friend, his loneliness when he was forced to leave his home country. as someone many of the locals looked to for wisdom, he too carried the emotional burdens of being someone's rock. emotional burdens that he let onto you (whether purposefully or not, you're unsure). but you listen anyway, hearing him talk about days of poverty, where sometimes he had to worry about things to eat, or how to get proper healthcare.
you can't lie and say you're always stable enough to hear some of the things he has to say, but you try.
even if you sometimes feel like you can't take it, you just smile and squeeze his hand tighter like you're supposed to. sometimes your mind will go on autopilot, and sometimes you'll stand up on the grounds of needing to go to the bathroom. but at the end of the day, this is what you signed up for. this. making men happy so that you yourself won't have to worry about your endless debt.
you peer over your notebook to see kazuha immersed in his own writing. but instead of his usual peaceful expression, he looks somber. his hands won't leave the paper, his eyes glued onto the words that he's drawn onto the pages.
"what's got you so worked up?" you ask curiously. "is it something new?"
it's like your voice snaps him out of his trance. he blinks, looking up at you. there's a smile you know all too well on his lips. "yeah, i suppose you could call it that."
"could i look at it? i want to see what's got you so focused like that."
his lips press into a straight line. "hmmm, maybe later."
his words catch you off-guard. usually he's the one who's eager to share his work, regardless of the quality. "oh? is it something you want to keep secret?"
he doesn't many any hint of an answer. instead, he puts down his pen and stares at the ground in contemplation. he's picking and choosing what words to say.
"i could protect you," he says, shuffling his papers to the side. you turn to him, curious. his expression slowly hardens. "by myself, i mean. i could take care of you."
"kazu—"
"i have the means to make a living for the both of us. i could sell more of my poetry, i know they'll sell well—"
"where is this coming from?" you move closer to him, brushing his hair aside. "kazu, are you worried about something?"
there's something that's stopping him from saying anything. his fingers intertwine with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.
he purses his lips, before turning away and sighing. "no, not really."
after that, he doesn't say anything else. the two of you bask in silence once again. even though you're used to the quiet, there's something deep down in you that feels nervous. like something in the atmosphere changed. there's a sudden resolved glint in his eye as he get backs to writing so diligently on a piece of paper he won't let you read.
after all these days spent talking about himself, somehow you're scared for the day he suddenly decides to stop.
on thursdays you're usually at tighnari's greenhouse, watching him take notes of other plants while you twiddle your thumbs. once in a while, he'll begin rambling about the plants—what kind of species they are, how rare, their medicinal properties, and the like.
you're more of a companion, than anything. someone who can make his days a little less lonelier. and you appreciate it. it's much more tranquil with him. you can enjoy his sharp quips, especially when cyno comes to visit.
his sex-drive is relatively normal, if not a little below average. just like wednesday, you also expect thursday to be a typical rest day.
except when spring comes.
when spring comes, your routine get a little wonky. for one week, at least. because that's when tighnari's heat hits him like a fucking monsoon.
you can already tell when it's coming when he begins to hover closer to you. whenever you take your hand out to do anything, even the slightest gesture, he's already taking it and dragging it towards his sensitive ears.
the moment you've made your plans set to 'take the week off' and help him out, he's already on you, face pressed into your neck as if it's his oasis.
as you can tell, he takes this week very seriously.
"i bet—shit—those other fucks don't get to hold you as long as i do," he lets out as he fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. his hands hold onto your waist like he owns it, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine. "looking so pretty for me. i wonder what they'd say if you got pregnant with my babies. you'd be so much more beautiful plump with my kids. is that what you want huh? to make them angry with my cum stuffed in your gorgeous pussy?"
some days you almost can't believe how uncharacteristically aggressive he is. he dicks you down like he's trying to imprint his shape into the core of your body so that none of the others can fit inside.
and when he cums, he'll take whatever unfortunate portions slip out and smear it all over your chest. especially where your heart is.
then the process starts all over again.
when it's over, he'll spoon you. as if he didn't almost fuck you to death. his touch is tender, like a ghost's hovering over your skin.
"why won't you leave them all for me?"
you shift a little to look at him and kiss him softy, sweetly, on the line of his jaw. "oh, nari, you know i can't."
his ears droop at your words. "you can't, or you won't."
his words make you freeze a bit.
you think back to last week, and the week before, and the one before that. you think about why you started selling your services in the first place, the endless debt you used to be in, and the progression of the relationship between all seven of your...contacts. even if you wanted to, you don't think you could back out if you tried. you've dug a hole for yourself. one deep enough to cause some sort of disruption if you ever decided to stop digging.
so you just hum. "you know how much i love routine."
as some sort of apology, you give him and open-mouthed kiss, one he's almost desperate to return. he moans, hands cupping your face to bring you closer to him.
you're well unaware how much your words have an impact him.
at the end of the week, all al-haitham wants to do is unwind. it's the only logical thing to do. no late-night drinks with the colleagues, no stressful trips to some tourist trap. on fridays, al-haitham comes home to a meal made with love.
when al-haitham's at work during the day, you're usually running your actual errands. it's when you have time to make those one-in-a-blue-moon visits to your actual home, although it's getting harder to call it that.
when it gets to the late-afternoon, you'll usually head to al-haitham's place to start cooking. if you didn't know how to cook before, you do now. every ingredient is handled with care, measured meticulously just as you knew he preferred.
and when he gets home, tired and stressed out, you're there to welcome him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.
during dinner, sometimes he'll talk to you about work or the latest research he'd gotten himself immersed with. in return, you tell him about some of your childhood memories. your likes, your dislikes, what used to be your hobbies. you do your best to keep your personal matters out of the conversation, no matter how many times he tries to pry into your private life.
sometimes dinners feel like a full on investigation, the way he keeps greeding for more information about you. he watches you eat with calculating eyes. you pretend to pay no mind to it.
in the beginning, kaveh used to join you for dinners. you always liked the guy, the way he bickered with al-haitham and riled him up. but now you've begun to see less of him, as if he never comes home on fridays at all.
after dinner, there are two different outcomes depending on his mood:
outcome one is that you'll spend the rest of the night curling up on his couch, the both of you immersed in your own books. al-haitham leans on your shoulder as he flips through the pages as if they're nothing. you can't help but feel ticklish whenever his hair brushes against your jaw.
somewhere in the middle, he'll move one hand to start fidgeting with the end of your shirt, sometimes crawling underneath to caress your sides.
outcome two is less quiet. the moment he gets home with that solemn face, you know it's coming. his voice is huskier, his responses shorter. it's usually a result of an impending deadline, colleagues being more peskier than usual.
the moment you two are done with dishes, he gingerly takes your hand and leads you up to the bedroom.
his kisses tastes like green tea and dinner. his hands run up and down your torso, trying to imprint the feel of your skin into every inch of your brain. you whimper when his thumbs press softly into your nipples, rolling them around as they harden.
your hands find purchase on his collar, tugging him impossibly close. he groans at the contact.
you let out a yelp when your back suddenly falls onto the bed. your hands are pressed onto the sheets, al-haitham's fingers encircling your wrists. his knee nudges your legs further apart, rubbing at your clit.
"don't look at the ceiling, dear, look at me," he breathes out, his hands leaving your nipples to gently guide your face towards. "that's it. good girl. just me. just look at me. only me."
he smiles.
"now, let me do god's work on your divine body."
saturdays with ayato can sometimes get hectic. some saturdays you're out getting bubble tea together and enjoying the city, and other saturdays you're hurrying to some publicitiy event hosted by the kamisato clan.
on those type of days, you can expect to wear gowns layered with shiny nylon tulle fabric. it's not as revealing as what you'd try on in dressing rooms with childe. in fact, it's a bit more modest.
today you're wearing a light-blue gown to match with ayato. you turn around to get a good look at the cute bow attached at your waist, your diamond encrusted earrings swaying along with you.
it's as if you've put on another costume. another front to wear for the night.
ayato enters the room just shortly after. in his hands is a diamond necklace to match with your stunning earrings. small smile falls upon his lips when he clasps it on.
"you're beautiful," he mumbles. you giggle when he kisses you square on the lips, licking away the tinted color.
"ayato," you press in-between kisses. you place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "you're going to ruin my lipstick."
he pulls away with a cheeky smile, taking your wrists to wrap around his neck. "you can always put on some more later."
you pout but kiss him regardless. he tightens his hold on you in reaction, moaning into your mouth.
at these kinds of events, you're there as his plus-one. just so that other officials could stop introducing girls to him when he clearly wasn't interested in them. it'd be arguable to say that you might even be there to make the events a little less intolerable.
somewhere along the lines, you'd sleep with him in addition to being his arm candy at parties. sometimes even before: you two rushing to put on your formal attires and fix your hair minutes before the event started.
but beyond that, you started to get to know him better. he'd whisper into your ear about funny stories relating to the guests as you meet them. sometimes you'd run away in the middle of the party to binge out on the food and talk about your other interests. surprisingly, he doesn't talk about the politics behind his duties as the head of the kamisato family. not as much as you expected, at least.
instead he talks about his dreams for a family. how many kids, what their names would be, how he'd raise them. and as he talked, he'd give you this heavy gaze that you're not sure what to do with. as if he was expecting something from you.
you're beginning to believe that ayato has somehow confused contractual girlfriend with actual girlfriend.
when you had met ayaka months ago, ayato introduced you as his girlfriend. you didn't attempt to correct him—that's ayato's business. not your's. but when you're expecting ayato to come clean to his dearest sister, you're sorely mistaken.
instead, while he kisses your lips so hungrily, he subtly slips a diamond ring onto your finger.
sundays are usually kaeya's days off. although the cavalry captain's duties are seemingly never endless, he takes the day off to take a breather.
in other words, he sees you.
at first, it was just candlelit dinners. he'd walk in with a bouquet of roses, complimenting your dress and staring at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. he'd take you to somewhere fancy, pull out the chair for you and sweet-talk you all through the night.
conversations were fun with him. you didn't have to think much at all, not about how to pay the bills, the six men in your life who seemingly began to want yours to only revolve around theirs, or being someone your not.
kaeya was probably the only one who you felt you could be comfortable with. he made you laugh, he'd tell all sorts of interesting stories, and he never made the silence feel awkward.
at least, that's how you used to be.
you see, usually after these candlelit dinners you'd both go back to his place, with him ripping off your clothes the moment the door closed. but as of recently, he's been asking to come over to your place instead more often. almost too often.
and that's not the only thing that's changed.
the sex used to be rough. heated. almost as if he was consumed by all of his pent-up sexual frustration and was only focused on getting off. he'd slurp your cunt like a man starved but he'd still rail you as if that's the only thing he cared about.
but as time passed, he's been getting more and more...sensual. the sex is much more slower. personal, almost.
vulnerable.
after dinner, he slowly slips off your clothing. one article after another, until your left in your underwear. he first kisses you on the mouth, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. slowly, he makes a trail of them down your body, as if no skin deserved to be left untouched.
although you made a rule that no one could leave your marks on you, it doesn't mean he doesn't try. as he kisses your lower lips, sometimes he'll attempt to leave marks close to your clit. if you're not careful, diluc will find it tomorrow.
his thrusts were always deep, but now that he's much more purposeful about it. it's rhythmic, as if he's trying to reach a new spot inside you. somewhere no one's touched.
the pillow-talks are much more longer as well. he holds you tighter now, wrapping his arms around your hips as he tangles his legs with yours.
instead of ranting on about the silly incidents he witnessed on the job earlier in the week, he talks about his feelings. towards you. towards diluc. towards himself. some nights you can handle it, some nights are too much.
but you can't say anything. not when he's holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. not when he helps you pay off your debt. and so you let his raspy voice whisper in your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair. you listen to him mumble sweet-nothings.
you're not sure if you like the adoring look he gives you as you drift off to sleep.
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that-one-dude · 1 year
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DND but the dungeon master doesn't have friends so they make pacts with all manner of beings so they can finally have players.
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honeykaes · 1 year
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— 𝐈’𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? 𝐢𝐢
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✦ breeding their beloved god (yandere sagau!) feat. itto, diluc, scaramouche, ayato
✦ warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact
✦ disclaimer: afab!reader with no set pronouns, everything is consensual, religious/cult themes breeding kink, creampies, yandere tendencies,  monsterfucking adjacent (itto), size kink (itto), cumflation (itto), dick piercing (itto), semi-public (diluc and ayato), power play (scaramouche), cockwarming (scaramouche), sadist (scaramouche), kinda hate sex (scaramouche), bath sex (ayato), dumbification (ayato), overstimulation (ayato), implied degradation (ayato and scaramouche), unedited
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Itto is probably the acolyte that most recently discovered you. Growing up, he wasn’t all that interested in the Creator, after all—what Creator would have people throw beans at him of all things? It wasn’t until recently, seeing your face in person when the Shogun introduced you to her land, that he realized he had been wrong this whole time and he will do nothing to stop atoning for his prior disbelief.
Whenever he would see you out, he managed to find you thanks to the rest of the Arataki clan, regardless of which high official you were with. This has granted many enemies he knows of, like Sara, to enemies he doesn’t realize like Ayato. Still, telling jokes and eating his favorite snacks with you is what he absolutely lives for. He is your obedient oni willing to go to jail time and time again if that means he can see your smile.
He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, cock pulsating and throbbing as he gulps to try to soothe his dry throat when your legs are splayed out to him—in the shabby, crackling shack he calls his home. He continuously swirls his tongue in his mouth, etching every sweet taste of your cunt in your memories before finally trying to push the tip of his cock inside of you.
Itto feared you would despise the inhuman curves and ridges of his cock, but you simply grabbed onto the sheets of the futon as he struggled to push his fat cock inside of you. He tries kissing every tear that drips from your eyes, feeling his stretch you out further and further as he pushes his way inside of you—the bulb of his length firmly nudging against your cervix wishing nothing more to push even further inside—body shivering from the cold metal from his Prince Albert piercing.
And even though he can’t fit, you’re shocked to feel your legs hooked on his arms as he proceeded to jam his cock inside of you over and over sharp teeth gazing over your neck. Even the oni teared up feeling your insides cave in, squeezing tight against his ridged cock. He can finally repent for being a disbeliever as you cry out his name repeatedly feeling him graze over the most sensitive parts inside of you.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head feeling his heavy balls empty themselves inside of you, a thick river of cum already beginning to stream down onto the damaged wood. Setting you down, he could only laugh patting the bulge in your belly—pressing it down to watch more of his cum drooling out of you.
Maybe if you accept his repentance, onis could truly be loved as you do him.
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Diluc was motionless when he realized you were his beloved God. He remembered going to church with his father when he was young, hearing the gospel and the glories you brought to them. Those stories were the only thing giving him hope, like a lone flame in his life of darkness once he lost his loved ones. And here you are, confused, and oh so innocent from the atrocities of this world.
He was the one you would stay with at Dawn Winery as he made it a mission to make you feel like absolute royalty—the uncrowned King of Mondstadt wouldn’t have it any other way. Some of his favorite things to do were listen to your day as the two of you ate dinner. Hearing your stories of exploring the manor and asking about his past, always made the usually brudish man smile…that is until he began hearing that others, like that bard and his cursed brother, visit you.
He hated how quiet he would get after that, sipping his grape juice and pondering how he could deter anyone from ruining the sanctuary he’s made here with you, the heaven that he rightfully deserves after years of suffering. 
Dinners became much more interesting when his fingers plunged inside of you, as your body lay out on the luxurious grand table. His digits exited out of you, coated with your slick before he unbuckled his pants and pressed his tip along your folds—slowly entering inside of you. His eyes could only widen in delight as you pulled him closer to you, your legs wrapped around his hips to bring him closer and cock plunging itself inside of you. 
He didn’t care if his staff saw. He didn’t care if his regional God even walked in. All he cared about was connecting your soft lips against his, rutting into you like a madman and savoring the heaven you had given him. 
He could hear your muffled moans against your lips as his hands woved themselves with yours, placing them high above you on the table. He continuously ground himself against your aching clit, feeling your gummy walls flutter themselves against him. Even as his hips bucked, hot cum spurting out inside of you, he finally parted your lips—a string of saliva connecting you two—before brushing his lips against your nape. 
Please let him have more time in Eden, with his beloved. That’s all he asks for.
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Why should he worship you, the Creator when all of his life has been suffering? Seeing you in person rattled the puppet, his body trembling in anger. Why are you looking at him in adoration? Weren’t you the reason why he could never have a heart, why one of your devolved followers, Raiden Ei abandoned him like a toy? As much as he hated to admit it, he so desperately wanted that look of want that you gave him.
Still, Scaramouche tried to avoid you left and right, but he always managed to come back eventually. He tried pushing you away with yours instead but seeing tears threaten your eyes was enough for him to succumb and apologize, holding you tight in his arms. He hated you…but he loved and craved you. How did this make sense? Maybe he was truly a faulty creation.
From this point on, Scaramouche began to travel with you claiming he was simply “protecting the creator” in an attempt to understand his feelings for you further. He couldn’t help but be irked seeing everyone worship and praise you or even seduce you. Wasn’t his feelings for you enough? Couldn’t you just be satisfied with that?
The frown on his face always curved into a smirk as you clung tightly to him, cock buried inside of you as the Ballader mockingly patted your back. Something was so thrilling to have the object of everyone’s admiration struggle not to cum by his orders. He could only shush you with a cruel smirk, feeling your inside clutch and try sucking him in further.
He pinched your cheek, causing a whine to erupt from you before snapping his hips up causing you to yelp. It was so utterly adorable to him, watching your lip quiver as he ground you against him trying to encourage him to finally plow inside of you. He chuckled, hand weaving around to pitch your throbbing clit instead, pulling on it as you cried out for him again before rubbing tender circles on it as your slick stained his fingers.
Suffer a little more, before he’s ready for you. It’s what you deserve for what you put himself through. Come on, tell him that he’s your favorite little doll already.
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It was mere child’s play to convince the Shogun to let you stay at the Kamisato residence, after all, he and his little sister had proven time and time again how loyal they were to you. There was something about walking you through the halls of his estate, your timid smile trying to convince him there was a mistake about you being God was enough to almost let his inner mind slip just how cute and small you were to him.
Ayato knows better, studying who the Creator was and how to best serve them, but he couldn’t help but want to test theorize for himself—test if you were truly worthy of his worship. Seeing you pass every trial with a determined smile, made his heart truly flutter in adoration. He, out of everyone, knew it would be a matter of time before you got a concubine from the endless list of your devoted followers. So he was determined to be the one to seduce you first. 
It was rather easy getting you flustered. Simple touches here and there. Leaning in close to see if you’d finally close the gap between you two. Things were much slower than he would’ve liked, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do. Even as he sits in the hot spring baths, all he could do is sigh continuously strategizing before he heard the doors open.
Everyone knows this is the time the lord takes his bath, it’s in his schedule. When lavender eyes made your gaze, his lips could only curl up into a smirk. He would finally reap the benefits of this long political game he had set out to win.
Having yourself pinned against him, the warm, very shallow swatters of the bath—clit burning in overstimulation for his fingers continuously toying with it no matter how many times your body came in pleasure. His cock thrust inside of you rapidly, your legs propped up on his wide shoulders letting him rut even deeper inside of you.
He couldn’t help whispering how it was unbecoming of a god to cave into their lust as you did, but he would continue worshipping you despite your falls feeling your walls tighten, and back arch as you came yet again from him. Finally letting a groan out and cum inside of you, cock pulsating inside of you as it finally became to soften. 
A dark chuckle escaped him, pressing his thumb against your glossy lips, wiping the drool threatening to drip down. 
Aww how cute. It seems his precious God forgot their name.
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vixstarria · 6 months
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"Where my nice, simple plan fell apart"
This is my take on how Astarion’s romance might have progressed with a silly, chaotic energy bard Tav, who doesn’t really fall for his initial manipulation but rather humours it, throughout Act 1.  
There will be more – I want to flesh this out and write more ‘behind the scenes’ moments, and continue this into Acts 2 and 3 (I’m still only at the beginning of Act 2 as I write this!) 
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav  
Comfort, fluff, budding love, cuddling, humour, no spoilers, non-explicit, light angst 
Approximately 2,000 words. 
~~~~~
“Let’s find our own little piece of nowhere. Somewhere we can lose ourselves and forget all this madness.” 
“Astarion, you insufferable trollop, what piece of cheap pulp did you fish that line from?!” you squeezed your eyes shut, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No, wait, let me guess... Madame Scarlett?” 
You watched his face turn from indignation to irritation, to finally settle in a resigned amusement, in a rapid succession.  
“My, a fellow connoisseur of the vulgar arts? The Madame’s been dead and out of print for over a century. But yes.” 
“A professional interest – a bard must be able to entertain all kinds of audiences, with all kinds of material” 
“And would you indulge me with your expertise tonight? But I do much prefer show to tell...”.  
This was the beginning. You did end up sleeping with him that night, despite his initial soppy attempt at seduction. And then it happened again another night. And then it kept happening... 
You tried to be discreet about it at first, but of course it wasn’t long before the other members of your party noticed your nightly disappearances, and there was no point trying to conceal it.  
You were vexed by their reactions – just about everyone found it necessary to at one point pull you aside and express their concerns about the vampire, asking you to be careful. This was, perhaps, justifiable – Astarion was admittedly quite stab-happy and had an inclination for bloodthirst (literally and figuratively). But he was on your side! And damned if you needed anyone’s approval for your choices in whom to bed! 
By that point you and Astarion had turned the cliched language of poorly written erotica novels into an inside joke. Casually addressing each other in increasingly mawkish and over-elaborate terms had turned into a game. Once the secret of your escapades was out, you weaponised this game, turning it to deliberately exasperate everyone around you with your antics. 
With your shared penchant for dramatic flair the two of you became utterly insufferable.  
You would shout corny names at each other across camp: 
“Oh precious, it’s your turn to set up the campfire! And no, I don’t care that you won’t be eating with us” you called out as the group stopped for the day to set up camp, but no answer followed. “My silver lynx..? Starry?? Snickerdoodle??” 
“Your snickerdoodle wandered off to slaughter another bear!” came an exasperated shout from Wyll. 
Strangers weren’t safe from your hijinks either:  
“My sun, my beating heart, flame of my loins, ache of my head. All my riches, at your feet”, he declaimed to you in front of a confused and embarrassed vendor, as he rummaged through and shook out his pockets and sleeves, spilling an assortment of semi-precious gems, silver cutlery and somehow even an entire silver tray, pilfered from an abandoned manor you came across earlier. 
Just to make the others uncomfortable, you would unceremoniously plop into Astarion’s lap at any given opportunity, including in your morning meetings to establish your itinerary for the day.  
One evening, as you all sat around the campfire to enjoy a shared meal, Astarion (who would ordinarily stay away during this time, or sit nearby with a book) sank down next to you, lifted your hand towards his mouth, and nonchalantly sank his fangs into your wrist and began to suck, slurping.  
“Oh, so I can’t enjoy a nice meal with everyone else, and have to be excluded? Bigots, the lot of you!” he chided, your blood dripping from his lips, to the sound of everyone’s shouts of shocked revulsion. Surprisingly, this was the closest you’d ever seen Lae’zel come to laughing.  
(You and Astarion had arranged this prior, of course. Ever the gentleman, he always asked before he bit.) 
Another night, as you were having a quiet chat with Shadowheart at her tent, while everyone else lounged at the fire, she asked: “So what is it like with him, really..? How is he?” 
Suddenly finding yourself abashed by this genuinely intimate question, you covered it up with pomp and bravado. Winking at Shadowheart, you stood up, threw your head back and began to orate, making sure your thundering voice would be heard by the fire, which you had been separated from by a distance and some bushes: 
“HIS MAGESTIC MANHOOD, WHEN UNSHEATHED, IS AN OBELISC OF MASCULINITY AND GLORY. IT IS A WONDER BIRDS DON’T CRASH INTO IT WHEN IT IS FULLY E- Ow! Who threw that?!” 
A projectile salami from your camp supplies came flying from behind the bushes, and slammed into the side of your face.  
All hell was breaking loose back at the campfire, as Wyll, Gale and a smug Astarion convulsed and shouted through poorly concealed laughter, blaming each other for the missile, as Karlach shook in hysterics and Lae’zel complimented the mystery thrower’s accuracy.  
Gale did look more sheepish than the rest once you started to develop a black eye from the impact, promptly healed by Shadowheart.  
What was it like with him? 
Despite the flowery epithets and exaggerated displays of affection you awarded each other in public, in private you had a mutual understanding that it was all frivolous, no strings play. You had a parasite that could turn you into a mind flayer at any given moment, twisting in your brain. Every day bore violent encounters. Since the nautiloid crash, you hadn’t gone a single day without something trying to murder you. You didn’t want to have to worry about anything other than survival, and you took life day by day. Distractions were welcome, but actual romantic attachment would be a burden, you told yourself. 
You thought of it as being friends with extended benefits.  
You let him feed (well, snack, really) on you, of course. It wasn’t sexual, not since the first night. He used your wrist, so as not to be overwhelmed by the blood flow. He ended the sessions by healing you himself, assisted by a magical trinket he’d picked up somewhere on your journey. You made sure not to let Gale get his hands on that one.  
In battles his arrows always picked off foes in your immediate vicinity, before they were directed to other targets. You’ve yelled at him for this, saying you were more than capable of holding your own, whilst you’d lost count of the revivify scrolls you’ve spent on Gale.  
“Yes, well, the way the man goes on about his ‘natural talents’ and ‘mastery of the weave’, you’d think he’d put that big wise brain of his to developing a strategy for not getting stabbed so often” - Astarion rolled his eyes. “I’m just encouraging him to improve, really. And besides”, his eyes narrowed, “only I’m allowed to spill your blood, darling”. You frowned at that last bit, as he flashed you a sweet and almost innocent smile, and stalked off.   
As for the other ‘benefits’ - the sex was intricate, if somewhat mechanic, almost too skillful on his behalf. Wanting more passion than efficiency, you eventually asked him to talk dirty to you. That made it nearly too intense for you to handle, and seemed to keep him more... personally engaged. During daytime you had to force yourself not to get caught up in flashbacks of his red eyes watching you writhe as he described what he was doing to you, what he was going to do to you, or how you looked while he worked your body. 
The night that you, wanting to reciprocate, asked him exactly how he wanted to be pleasured and what he liked was a fiasco. You didn’t understand why. First he said something about being able to please you being his greatest reward and satisfaction (which you immediately shut down). Then he grew flustered and irritated, becoming uncharacteristically at a loss for words. You tried to divert the conversation, but the mood was unsalvageably ruined.  
There was one takeaway from that debacle, however. After abandoning the idea of sex for the night, you laid next to each other, talking about nothing in particular: Baldur’s Gate, places you were both familiar with, comforts you were looking forward to having again. At one point he looked at his jacket, which you’d been lying on, and lamented that he couldn’t find any gold thread to fix the embroidery. You laughed and rolled over to give him a hug, and simply never let go. He wordlessly pulled you closer once it was clear you had no intention of leaving. That was the first time that you fell asleep and slept through the night in his arms. 
This became somewhat of a ritual, or another game with unspoken rules. Once you were done with each other, you’d pretend to quickly fall asleep with your face nested in the crook of his neck, or to otherwise be too exhausted to get up and make way to your own tent or bedroll. He pretended not to notice the regularity with which this was happening. You pretended not to notice the soft kisses he started leaving on your neck or forehead once he thought you were really asleep. It seemed... important, somehow, that you both pointedly refused to acknowledge any of it. You sensed that otherwise a certain line would be crossed. 
Last night, you were too exhausted to even think of anything but sleep by the time everyone started turning in for the night. Yet rest wasn’t even on the horizon for you – you remembered that you’d neglected to clean your weapons and carry out the well overdue maintenance on your equipment, which you did not allow anyone else to touch even when offered. You were planning to venture into the shadow-cursed lands the following day. You couldn’t afford to be sloppy. You begrudgingly set about your tasks. Astarion was as tired as everyone else, you figured it was needless to say you’d spend the night apart. And yet...  
“I guess I finally get my bedroll all to myself tonight, how delightful” you heard behind you. “No one to wrap themselves around me, no one nuzzling into my neck... Only free, undisturbed personal space” You heard a hint of dejection beneath the sarcasm, and something in your stomach flipped, giving you pause.  
“I’ll come back for a cuddle if you say please” you murmured over your shoulder. 
“Never!” he rasped in a perfect imitation of Lae’zel when you asked the same of her before freeing her from a tiefling cage, and disappeared into his tent. 
Over an hour later, as you collapsed into your own bedroll, you saw a pair of red eyes staring at you from across the camp, tent flap ajar. You held Astarion’s gaze.  
“Please”, he mouthed soundlessly, smiling as he lifted the edge of his blanket.  
Within moments, you slipped into his embrace, pressing your lips against his. But his kisses were gentle and feather light, lacking the usual persistent neediness.  
You pulled away from him, locking eyes as he softly ran his hand down your cheek, brushing your lower lip with his thumb. 
“Gods, you’re beautiful” he breathed. 
That night he fell asleep with his head against your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.  
Your breath caught in a silent sob as you were overwhelmed by a bittersweet realization of how much you really stood to lose if you failed in the journey still ahead of you. You didn’t think you’d ever felt happier or more miserable before in your life, as you hugged him tighter. 
~~~~~
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markrosewater · 3 months
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Maro’s Teaser for Murders at Karlov Manor
Before previews for Murders at Karlov Manor officially begin, I thought it would be fun to do another of my Duelist-style teasers where I give tiny hints of things to come. Note that I’m only giving you partial information.  
  First up, here are some things you can expect:  
 • white gets a card that lets you play a subset off the top of the deck
• a new enchantment subtype Case
• a card with four different hybrid symbols in its mana cost
• a popular mechanic returns tweaked with a new name
• a green sorcery that you can have any number of in your deck
• a keyword mechanic not printed in a premier set since 2008 returns on a single card
• a creature that allows you an alternate nonmana cost for all your spells
• some creature tokens in the set: (note that some have abilities) 0/0 green Ooze, 0/0 colorless Thopter (also artifact), 0/1 green Plant, 1/1 black Bat, 1/1 white Dog, 1/1 red Goblin, 1/1 white Human, 1/1 blue Merfolk, 1/1 white and black Spirit, 1/1 colorless Thopter (also artifact), 2/1 black Skeleton, 2/1 black and green Spider, 2/2 white and blue Detective, 2/2 red Imp, and 5/5 green and white Wolf
• And yes, Murder is in the set
 Next, here are some rules text that will be showing up on cards:  
  • “Whenever a creature an opponent controls dies, if its toughness was less than 1, draw a card.”
• “Choose any number of target players.”
• “Creature cards in your graveyard gain ‘You may cast this card from your graveyard’ until end of turn.”
• “Then sacrifice it if it has five or more bloodstain counters on it.”
• “you may search your graveyard, hand, and/or library for a card named Magnifying Glass and/or a card named Thinking Cap and put them onto the battlefield.”
• “target opponent gains control of any number of target permanents you control.”
• “If an ability of a creature you control with power 2 or less triggers, that ability triggers an additional time.”
• “As long as there are no cards in your library,”
• “If one or more tokens would be created under your control, those tokens plus a Clue token are created instead.”
• “Whenever you sacrifice a Clue, target opponent gets two poison counters.”
 Here are some creature type lines from the set: 
 • Creature – Vedalken Artificer Detective
• Creature – Ogre Cleric
• Artifact Creature – Insect Thopter
• Creature – Lammasu
• Creature – Weird Detective
• Creature – Goblin Bard
• Creature – Viashino Assassin
• Artifact Creature – Clue Fish
• Creature – Elf Crocodile Detective
• Legendary Creature – Mole God
 Finally, here are some names in the set: 
 • Airtight Alibi
• Caught Red-Handed
• Deadly Cover-Up
• Eliminate the Impossible
• Homicide Investigator
• Innocent Bystander
• It Doesn’t Add Up
• Person of Interest
• Private Eye
• Scene of the Crime
 Follow the story each day this week and tune into the debut at 9:00 am PT on Jan 16 on twitch.tv/magic or youtube.com/@mtg to learn whodunit! Can you solve the mystery before detective extraordinaire Alquist Proft?
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tenjikyu · 5 months
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𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 - 𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘬𝘪 - 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐
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౨ৎ ⋆。˚ really angsty with some fluff at the end , male!reader throughout the entire series .
PART I • PART III • GENSHIN M.LIST
tag list :@wanderchive @wanderer-baizhu-simp @gimmealamp @mis-disaster @remi-appalace @lucianidealz @sleepdeprivedpotato @unemiart @heejinsong @kiiyoooo @sweett-heartzz @camryn-ciel67 @aruaruaru @danika-redgrave124 @ravencalamity @snowcatlove @bunbunboysworld
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it’s been awhile since diluc had seen his little brother’s face, and from the moment he stepped into the manor he knew something was up.
he noticed it in your eyes, the colour dimmed down and that childlike glint lost into the depths of your coloured iris’. he saw your eyebags, weighing down your once flawless skin. he noticed your attitude, expecting a big hug and questions of his wearabouts, however he received nothing more then a harsh glare and a quiet “i’m going out, see ya”, not even sparing him a second glance. you just walked out the door, not a care for his presence.
what a familiar sight that was, only the brothers roles had been reversed. just how much had he fucked up, and what was left of yourself to apologise to?
you laid your head on the young bards thighs, his fingers dancing upon his lyre with a gentle breeze forming in the winds. your tears stained your cheeks, however you made no attempt to wipe them, as a soft white feather came down before your fingers could reach and wiped them away for you.
“what should i do barbatos? i’m lost” you whispered gently, the gods ears picking up every word as your lips moved.
lord barbatos knew the answer, however he knew you may not take his answer lightly. you were only getting colder, showing even less signs that your old self was still present in your husk of a body.
for now though, his thin fingers would continue to caress your head, stroke your hair and keep you close. for now, he would do his best to stand in as your light in the dark, your safe place.
lord barbatos knew, deep down in his soul, that you weren’t just unhappy, you were utterly shattered and no amount of apologies, gifts or explanations could repair what your brothers had caused you.
for now though, he wants you to just continue holding onto whatever you can of your sanity.
you wandered aimlessly around the streets of mondstadt, dragging your shoes against the pavement and sulking to yourself. the lingering numbness that never left your side since that fateful day was a lot more rowdy then usual, thumping in your stomach. how much longer should the gods make you suffer like this? how many tears will you shed on that bards shoulder until you finally feel at ease? how many times do you have to push away diluc before he takes the hint that he can’t fix this??
making your way back home to the manor, you dreaded what awaited you.
it was the same thing every time you made it home.
diluc would be sitting in the dining room chair, mulling over how to approach you. he’d give you an apologetic smile, open up his arms.
and you’d shove him away, just like every other night.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T CHECK IN ON (Y/N)?! WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING SINCE I LEFT YOU INCOMPETENT FOOL” diluc’s voice boomed through the dawn winery.
“I WAS SCARED DILUC! I WAS TERRIFIED YOUD DISOWN HIM, JUST AS I WAS!” kaeya had fought back.
that shut diluc down, and so kaeya continued.
“ YOU UP AND LEFT HIM JUST AS MUCH AS I DID, DONT YOU DARE MAKE ME THE SOLE PERSON TO BLAME. WE BOTH FUCKED UP MAJORLY AND NOW THERES NO FIXING IT! YOU SAID IT YOURSELF EARLIER, HE WANTS NOTHING TO DO WITH EITHER OF US ANYMORE” kaeya sobbed, salty tears soaked his cheeks and dropped onto the wood floors of the tavern.
both of them fell silent upon heading a third party enter the tavern…
“ he left.” was all venti spoke.
it was only just above a whisper, red strains in his eyes indicating tears had recently filled his vision not long beforehand.
“i didn’t stop him, he just picked up a bag, said his goodbyes to me and headed towards liyue. my best guess? he’s either headed towards inazuma to be as far away from this mess that you both have created, or he’s headed towards fontaine using liyues route, as an attempt to throw the both of you off his track.”
and then, the sounds of the dieties shoes exited the tavern.
the two contrasting brothers could only stare in utter disbelief at the bards words, but then,
they ran.
almost in sync with eachother they raced towards the manor i’m a rush unlike any other they had ran.
kaeya had never run so fast and diluc had never felt so ill. both of them could only pray to the gods above that there would be some form of evidence of your whereabouts once they arrived back at the manor.
and they were completely out of luck.
your bedroom had been destroyed beyond repair. diluc hadn’t entered your bedroom once since his return, in hopes to give you as much privacy as possible and kaeya hadn’t even entered the place since the fight.
your bedsheets were mauled, almost as if a boar had trampled on them. your clothes were everywhere, only your staple clothes seemed to no longer be in the room. notes upon notes with incomprehensible writings but obviously very emotional statements were scattered around them. your walls had marks and scratches from furniture denting them, plates and cutlery were stacked on your desk and finally,
you. you were gone.
for the first time 3 years, diluc held his brother as he broke down in your bedrooms floor, his own body suddenly to heavy for his legs to withstand.
and unfortunately for them, it would be a long time before they ever got to see you again.
you had finally made it to the entrance of the court of fontaine, only your bag in hand as well as a melusine next to you, guiding you to your new home that you had purchased with some of the mora you.. obtained while back in mondstadt.
“here it is! this apartment unit has been on the market for awhile considering it’s price! i’m surprised a foreigner was the one to claim it! all the furniture is already in the house, so you don’t have to worry about a thing. here’s the keys!” the ever so kind melusine handed to you.
not having the heart to be rude to such a sweet creature, you gave her a gentle smile and she skipped away. with a deep breath, you decided to head into your house..
or you tried to, anyways.
“hello there good sir! it’s lovely to meet you! we live close by and thought we’d introduce ourselves.” the hyperactive man in front of you spoke.
sighing to yourself internally, you decide it’s better to start off on a good foot over a bad foot when it came to your neighbours.
“my name is lyney, and this is my lovely twin sister lynette! we have a younger brother too, however he is currently out diving at the moment, so he couldn’t be here to greet you. both my sister and i would love to have you come to one of our shows that we’re performing in two days time! here’s a free ticket.” he winks to you, handing you a ticket, lyneys (seemingly reserved) sister only sighed at his antics.
“thank you.” you you muttered. “now may i please enter my house? i’d like to see it” you say with a.. slightly irritated tone, however neither of them payed much mind to it.
“of course, mon chéri! but only if you let us in for tea” he once again winked at you with a sly smile.
you knew should have just shut the door in his face when you had the opportunity…
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