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theostrophywife · 5 months

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heaven and back.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader x theodore nott.

song inspiration: heaven and back by chase atlantic.

author's note: poly! matty and theo just hits different. the teamwork that these two would put in. whew baby that's a one way ticket to st. mungo's. these men break backs, not hearts 😏

You were good at playing games.

As a matter of fact, Mattheo and Theodore would argue that you were a little too good.

After all, you met your boyfriends during one of Malfoy’s infamous game nights in which you swindled Mattheo and Theodore out of a few hundred galleons during a tense round of magical poker. Ever since that fateful night in fourth year, the three of you became inseparable. Thanks to your slyness, the first Saturday of every month was deemed sacred to your fellow Slytherins. Game nights were reserved for drinking and debauchery, which just so happened to be your specialty.

Though the entirety of Hogwarts coveted an invitation to the longstanding tradition, very few were allowed a glimpse into the inner workings of the serpent’s nest. Tonight, the guest of honor was none other than the Gryffindor golden girl—Hermione Granger. She and Draco only started dating a month ago, but anyone with eyes could see that Malfoy was quite smitten. Before Hermione, Draco had never invited a significant other to game night.

You were determined to give Hermione a warm Slytherin welcome. Hence the special potion you brewed just for the occasion.

With a smirk, you produced the potion from your back pocket. The liquid sloshed around in the glass vial, the iridescent purple mixture flecked with specks of glitter.

“I know that look.” Theo remarked, pulling you into his lap. “What sort of trouble are you brewing, dolcezza?”

Mattheo chuckled and nestled against his shoulder. “Don’t act like you don’t like it, Teddy. You know we both benefit from her mischief. Isn’t that right, princess?”

You smiled, ruffling Mattheo’s curls. “You’re absolutely right, Matty. Tonight, everyone will reap the rewards of my tricks. I concocted a special little potion that’ll make game night a little more interesting.”

Pansy raised a perfectly groomed brow. “What exactly does this little concoction of yours do, Y/N? The last time I drank something you brewed, I ended up streaking through the quidditch pitch.”

“As I recall, I was right beside you, Pans.” Your friend chuckled, nodding in confirmation. “Consider this a social lubricant. It takes the edge off, makes you feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. It’s the perfect balance between feeling tipsy and high. Lowers those pesky inhibitions.”

Draco scoffed. “If this group lowers their inhibitions any further, we’d all be expelled.”

“That’s why we have you, Dray. What good is the Malfoy fortune if it can’t bail us out of sticky situations?”

“Need I remind you that the last sticky situation almost ended with Enzo in the infirmary after Mattheo and Theo convinced him to race backwards on their brooms.”

Hermione watched the back and forth exchange, absorbing the interaction with a small smile.

“Draco’s exaggerating, of course. Anyone would’ve missed the whomping willow in the dark.” The Golden Girl chuckled as you sent her a conspiratory wink, causing Draco to sigh in exasperation. “Besides, Berkshire had fun. Didn’t you, Enz?”

“Oh, loads. I had a blast pulling twigs from my arse for two hours straight afterwards.”

“See? You’re not talking us into taking another one of your poisons, Y/N.”

Enzo shook his head. “Speak for yourself, cousin. I’m definitely in.”

The rest of your friends expressed their agreement. Even Blaise, who would never dream of drinking anything besides the finest vintage, was eager to participate. Mostly to see the others make a fool of themselves, which was perfectly fine by you.

Draco rolled his silver eyes. “Fine. You lot are going to end up talking me into it, anyways.”

“What about you, Hermione? Would you like a sip as well?”

Her warm, honey brown eyes darted around the room. Draco clasped her hand in his, squeezing gently. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, love. I’m only agreeing because I don't want to have to take care of these heathens.”

You nodded empathically. “No pressure, Hermione. You can say no if you’d like, but I am rather proud of my little concoction and it would be an absolute honor if the golden girl partook in our debauchery. After all, you’re dating Draco. You might as well get used to it now.”

A mischievous grin pulled at Hermione’s lips. She shrugged nonchalantly, her curls cascading over her shoulder. “Why the bloody hell not?”

“That’s the spirit, Granger!” cheered Pansy.

You smirked in response and slithered out of your boyfriend’s lap. Both Mattheo and Theo watched intently as you crawled across the plush ornate rug, slowly making your way towards the Gryffindor. Hermione sucked in a breath, her cheeks blossoming into a pretty blush. Her hands, which were laid in her lap in the most prim and proper way, twitched when you knelt before her on the sofa.

Behind you, Mattheo mumbled something into Theo’s ear. When you glanced over your shoulder, your boyfriends were staring directly at you, anticipating your next move. You responded with an innocent smile before turning back to Hermione.

With a sly smile, you held her honey eyed gaze and tapped her bottom lip. “Open up, love.”

Hermione swallowed thickly before parting her lips. You gently cradled her jaw before tipping the vial into her mouth, pouring a generous amount of potion for the golden girl. She looked up at you expectantly, her lashes fluttering ever so slightly.

You rewarded her with a cheeky wink. “Good girl, Granger. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She shook her head, the flush on her cheeks mimicking her house colors as you wiped a droplet of liquid off of her lips with your thumb. Beside her, Draco sighed. “For Salazar’s sake, stop putting the moves on my girlfriend.”

“What’s the matter, Dray? Are you scared I’ll steal Hermione away from you?”

“You can hardly blame me. You’re a shameless flirt, Y/N.”

You placed a hand over your heart, feigning offense. “Why, I’d never dream of flirting with your lady. You know how jealous my boys get.”

Your boyfriends shook their heads, clearly amused at your attempt to rile Draco up. Truly, your friend made it too easy. You chuckled as the blonde glared at you. “Come on, Malfoy. It’s your turn. Maybe the potion will loosen you up, yeah?”

Draco rolled his eyes, but allowed you to pour the potion into his mouth. You moved down the line, doing the same for Pansy, Blaise, and Enzo. The latter grinned as you ruffled his hair. After Enzo, the only ones remaining were Theo and Mattheo.

“Come here, cara mia.” Theo said, beckoning you with two fingers. “Mattheo and I are waiting.”

“I saved the best for last, boys.”

Mattheo smirked as he pulled you into his lap. You settled against him, making yourself right at home. He kissed the side of your neck, smiling against your skin. “Go on, then. Don’t leave Theo hanging.”

You nodded, body heating as Mattheo rubbed your thighs. Theo raised a brow, his watercolor eyes settling over you. Licking your lips, you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander. Your boyfriend looked rather casual in his emerald jumper and dark jeans, but there was something about the way that Theo carried himself that exuded sex appeal. The cocky smirk on his handsome face told you that he was well aware of the effect he had on you.

Theo cocked his head towards you and opened his mouth. You tipped the vial past his lips, admiring how plush and pouty they looked. Lust darkened your boyfriend’s watercolor eyes as he watched you through hooded lids. The potion dribbled off his chin, making you giggle.

“Oops, I spilled.” You licked the remnants off, lapping up the liquid all the way to the corner of his lips. Mattheo’s fingers dug into your hips as you finished off your little show with a kiss.

Theo grabbed the back of your head and deepened the kiss. He didn’t take kindly to being teased. Never one to shy away from public displays of affection, Theo groaned softly and slid his tongue into your mouth, giving you a filthy open-mouthed kiss before pulling away and winking.

Across the room, Hermione flushed, her lips parting ever so slightly. “Oh,” she whispered softly.

Mattheo chuckled, his laughter caressing your skin as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He turned you over in his lap and tapped his lips. “Me next, princess.”

“Open wide, Matty.”

“Funny. Usually I’m the one saying that to you.”

Your friends groaned at the suggestive comment, but you only grinned in response. Mattheo parted his lips eagerly, not once breaking eye contact as he swallowed the potion. The intensity of his big, brown eyes made your hands shake, causing you to spill a few drops on your fingers. Your boyfriend took your middle and pointer finger into his mouth and sucked them clean.

You gasped in surprise. Mattheo chuckled darkly, catching the vial before it slipped out of your fingers. Behind you, Theo tugged at your hair and titled your head back.

“Your turn now, mi amor.” Mattheo drawled, his voice a seductive song in your ears. He lowered his voice, so only you could hear his next statement. “Be a good girl and swallow.”

The eager nod made both of your boyfriends smirk. Theo gathered your hair in one hand, fisting your locks into a makeshift ponytail while Mattheo poured the last of the potion into your mouth. The liquid was strong and sweet, trailing down your throat and warming your body with a pleasant heat.

“That’s my girl,” Mattheo said. Theo raised a brow, which made the curly headed boy laugh. “That’s our girl.”

“Better,” Theo remarked before pulling you against him.

You settled into his lap, watching the rest of your friends start a game of poker. As always, Draco was way too competitive. Blaise was hustling the hell out of him, but the blonde didn’t seem to notice. Pansy wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s shoulders, leaning in every so often to whisper things in his ear that made him smile.

Enzo reclined back on the couch, an endearing smile pulling at his lips as he took small sips of his firewhiskey. From his glazed eyes, you could tell that the potion was hitting him the hardest.

Mattheo rested his head on your lap, tugging at your hand in a silent request to play with his curls. You obliged happily, scratching at his scalp and twirling his bouncy locks between your fingers. Every so often, he’d lean in and show you his cards, asking for advice.

As the night progressed, the potion took its effects, loosening both lips and limbs. Theo’s long legs bracketed you from either side, the intoxicating scent of petrichor and cigarette smoke clinging onto him like your own personal drug. Mattheo stared lovingly up at you as you continued playing with his hair.

When you looked up, you met Hermione’s inquiring gaze. She was leaned up against Draco, who kept an arm around her waist, absentmindedly drawing circles underneath her sweater.

She cocked her head, a question forming in her brilliant mind. “So, how exactly does it work?”

You leaned back against Theo’s chest, a playful smirk curving against your lips. “How does what work, love?”

“Having…two boyfriends.”

“You mean, being poly?”

“Poly,” Hermione said, testing out the word. There wasn’t a hint of judgment in her expression, just plain curiosity. Apparently, the Gryffindor girl’s innate hunger for knowledge extended to the intricacies of your relationship. “If you don’t mind me asking. How exactly does a poly relationship work?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s like every other relationship,” you started, glancing at your two favorite people in the world. Mattheo and Theo smiled back. “We go on dates, we argue about stupid things, then we kiss and make up. Except sometimes the boys like to gang up on me.”

Theo chuckled. “I reckon ganging up against you is the most fun that we have, dolcezza.”

“I’d have to agree with Teddy,” Mattheo interjected as he grinned up at you. “We give teamwork a whole new meaning. Don’t we, princess?”

“See,” you said, waving your arms between your boyfriends. “These sassy men will be the death of me.”

Theo wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling against your neck. “You love us though.”

“That I do,” you replied with a smile.

“Do any of you ever get jealous?” asked Hermione.

Theo nodded. “Of course, it’s a natural part of every relationship, but we have ways of working it out.” Your boyfriend smiled and kissed your cheek. “We just make sure no one feels left out.” He leaned down to place a kiss on Mattheo’s forehead too.

Hermione hummed. “That sounds rather nice, actually.”

“I wouldn’t call it nice,” Mattheo countered with a sly smile. “Y/N can get a little feisty sometimes. You should’ve seen what she did to Lavender for touching my shoulder last week.”

Theo nodded in agreement. “It’s nothing compared to the fight she had with Cho after she tried asking me out. Poor girl thought that polyamory equates to having an open relationship. As if I’d ever need anyone else besides Y/N and Mattheo.”

“So polyamory doesn’t translate to opening your relationship to others,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “I’m learning so much.”

Mattheo confirmed her statement with a nod. “Yes, we’re all very committed to one another. It’s only Y/N and Theo for me.”

“While we all adore your wonderful little trio,” Draco cut in. You could tell by the tension in his shoulders that he would definitely not be open to sharing the golden girl with anyone else. “I think it’s time to call it a night.”

You chuckled. “Such a party pooper, Malfoy. Don’t worry, Granger’s just asking for education purposes. Aren’t you, Mione?”

“I know what you’re doing, Y/N. You’re devious, you know that?”

Theo smirked at his oldest friend. “Don’t be jealous cause she has more game than you, Dray.”

“After all, that’s how she got us. Right, princess?”

Draco sighed exasperatedly. You rolled your eyes fondly before saying goodbye to everyone. Pulling Hermione into a hug, you winked behind her back as Draco glared at you.

“Thank you for indulging me,” Hermione said softly. “I feel thoroughly educated now.”

“No problem, Mione.”

You kissed her cheek before wrapping Draco into a hug as well. “Stay sharp, Dray. You’ll have to work harder to keep up with this one. Granger’s way out of your league.”

Draco smiled. “I’m well aware.”

Later that night as you laid in bed sandwiched between Mattheo and Theo, you felt the potion reach its peak. You giggled into Theo’s neck, squealing as Mattheo pressed his cold feet against your legs. The three of you were chatting about your day like you usually did, but thanks to the potion, one of you always got sidetracked, leading into cuddles and kisses mid sentence.

Matty spooned you from behind, his possessive grip snaked around your waist like a vice. “I’m not going to lie, watching you crawl towards Granger tonight did something to me.”

“That’s her game, mio amato. You know she loves to tease.”

You turned over to face him, an amused smirk toying at your lips. “I thought you liked my little games, Teddy. At least your lower half did. I could feel you pressing against me all night.”

Theo smirked, grinding his erection against your thigh. “Can you blame me? You knew exactly what you were doing. Admit it, cara mia. You weren’t cozying up to Hermione just to get under Draco’s skin. You were doing it to rile us up too.”

“It worked. I’ve been hard as fuck all night. The way you teased Granger had me thinking vile thoughts.”

“So I’m not enough for you, Matty?” You jested, pouting your bottom lip at your boyfriend. “You want Draco’s girl too?”

Within the blink of an eye, you were pinned underneath Mattheo with your arms raised above your head as your boyfriend glared down at you. “No. If anything, you’re the one flirting with Granger like Theo and I aren’t enough to handle already. Maybe we should remind you who you belong to.”

You hummed in agreement, biting back a smile. “Hmm, maybe you’re right, querido. I’m not opposed to a little refresher.”

Theo shook his head in disbelief. “Fucking hell, bella. You just want to be railed until you cry, don’t you? Such a little brat. You could’ve just asked for what you wanted.”

You batted your lashes in response. “But it’s so much more fun this way.”

As retaliation, Mattheo flipped you over on all fours. With a smirk, he leaned back on the headboard and pushed down his gray heathered sweatpants as Theo crawled behind you. He gave no warning as he bunched up your nightdress, pressing a filthy kiss against your clothed sex. You were dripping for him, coating his lips with your taste as he pushed your head down on Mattheo’s lap. You groaned as Mattheo pumped himself between slender fingers, tapping the tip of his cock against your lips. He bucked into your mouth just as Theo plunged his tongue between your folds.

“What was that, principessa?” Theo hummed against your aching cunt. “Matty and I can’t hear you over all that moaning.”

Mattheo laughed meanly as he gathered your hair in his fist, thrusting down your throat with a choked moan. “Put that smart mouth to work, sweetheart.” He thrust in lazily, barely giving you his tip. “Spit on it.”

Glancing up at him through your lashes, you spit on Mattheo’s cock and watched as his head lolled against the headboard. “Teddy? Wanna give me a hand, pretty boy?”

With wide eyes, you gasped as Theo leaned over and pumped Mattheo in his hand before lining up his length against your lips. Theo kissed your cheek before shoving your head down to take inch after inch. Once Mattheo slid all the way in, he pulled out just to slam back in forcefully. You could feel Mattheo hitting the back of your throat, activating your gag reflex while he smirked in satisfaction.

“Gonna shut the fuck up and take my cock like a good little slut, aren’t you?”

You nodded, tears forming in your eyes as Mattheo continued to fuck your throat. As if that weren’t enough, Theo flicked his tongue on your clit and feasted on you from behind like a starved man. He took his sweet time, sloppily making out with your pussy and lapping up your arousal before slipping a finger inside, pumping you as you gagged on Mattheo’s cock. You groaned as Theo pried your legs apart, his intense gaze never leaving your face as he kissed the inside of your thighs. Hooking your right leg over his shoulder, Theo began licking and teasing, his tongue flicking through your folds with expert precision. He sucked hard, lapping your juices up with fervent devotion.

The potion increased the sensations tenfold, intensifying your pleasure as you bucked against Theo’s face. It seems that your less than innocent academic pursuit had truly paid off because both Theo and Mattheo seemed to be affected just as much. The current of the concoction surged through all three of you, slamming you with wave after wave of heady desire. It felt better than drunk sex or fucking while you were high. This was just unbridled lust and want, flooding you with the need to be nothing but an obedient fuck toy for your favorite boys.

Mascara streaked down your cheeks as you cried out for more, fisting the sheets as your boyfriends occupied both of your needy holes. The cries of pleasure were muffled around Mattheo’s cock. Your boyfriend’s breathing grew ragged and his grip grew tighter, his abs rippling as he shot hot ribbons down your throat.

“Good girl. So fucking beautiful, swallowing every drop of my cum like a perfect little whore. You’re flawless, Y/N.”

Theo made quick work of you afterwards. Warmth spread from your core, hot tendrils snaking all over your body as he pushed you to your first orgasm of the night. When Theo crooked his middle and pointer finger inside your gummy walls, you squirted into his mouth with a cry. Despite your cries of pleasure, Theo showed no signs of stopping. His cool breath fanned over your sensitive sex and you whimpered at his ravenous appetite, squirming away from Theo’s tongue. Displeased, Theo flipped you onto your back and dragged you towards him by the ankles.

“I’m not done with you, tesoro.”

Your boyfriend growled and glanced at Mattheo. “Hold her down,” Theo commanded, his pretty eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re done when I say you’re done. Sit back, look pretty, and let me eat your pussy until you’re sobbing. I’ll make you feel so good, bella. Surely you have another one in you, don’t you, Y/N?”

You nodded, still reeling from the aftershock of your orgasm. Mattheo placed you on his lap, prying your lips open with his fingers. “Theo asked you a question, princess. Use your words.”

Theo smirked. “Give her a minute. I think I’ve fucked her so dumb with my mouth and fingers that she can’t even form a sentence.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Mattheo said with a chuckle. He caressed your jaw, pressing kisses against your shoulder. “Don’t you want to cum again, sweetheart? Either way, you don’t really have a choice. Theo’s going to feast on you no matter what you say. You know he hates being teased.”

“I can take it,” you said in a shaky voice. “I’ll be good, I promise. I just want to make you both proud.”

Theo smiled, revealing the dimples you loved so much. “I know you do, Y/N. We’re not stopping until you’ve soaked the sheets. Now come on, be a good girl and sit on my face.”

You swallowed thickly as Theo switched places with you, laying back on Mattheo’s lap while bringing your hips forward. Steadying yourself on Mattheo’s shoulder, you slowly lowered onto Theo’s face. You grinded against him slowly at first, minding your sensitive sex, but it wasn’t long before you were bucking into his mouth, riding his face like you’d ride his cock.

There was no other word to describe Theo but feral. He gorged himself on you, poking and prodding your wet cunt with his tongue and fingers until your head fell onto Mattheo’s neck, gasping against his skin while Theo’s fingers dug into your hips. You groaned as Mattheo kissed you roughly, whimpering at the overwhelming pressure already building in your core.

As your moans and screams grew louder and louder, Mattheo gagged your mouth with his fingers, shoving his middle and pointer finger past your lips in an attempt to muffle the noise.

“Are you trying to wake the whole castle up, princess?”

“Let her,” Theo said, chuckling darkly as he wrapped his lips around your clit. “Let the whole castle hear what a desperate little slut she is for us.”

You groaned as Theo picked up the pace, fucking you with his tongue until you were coming undone in his mouth. The second orgasm was an out of body experience. Stars exploded behind your eyes as you came with a cry. You could’ve sworn that you went to heaven and back.

As you collapsed backwards into Theo’s arms, your boyfriend grabbed you by the throat and kissed you. The taste of you lingered on his tongue and your eyes rolled back as Theo’s lips claimed yours. He chuckled when you chased his kisses.

“Don’t be greedy, pretty girl. Matty wants a taste too.”

Your lips parted in surprise as Theo grabbed the back of Mattheo’s head and kissed him hard, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip and they both groaned. Theo smiled into the kiss, savoring the taste. He patted Mattheo’s cheek before pulling you into his lap.

“Such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Theo cooed, caressing your cheek and rewarding you with neck kisses. “I love when you ride my face. You’re fucking perfect. I’m so proud of you, pretty girl.”

“Don’t go all soft now, cariño.” Mattheo teased, licking away the remnants of you from the corner of his mouth. “We’re only getting started. We haven’t even fucked her yet.”

Theo smiled down at you, wiping away the mascara streaks clinging to your cheeks. “Then by all means. Finish the job you started, Matty.”

“I intend to,” Mattheo replied as he loomed over you.

With a wink, Theo spread your legs apart and presented your sopping wet cunt to Mattheo like a present. He reached down and rubbed his middle and pointer finger against your clit, holding your hips in place as you arched off the bed.

“Look at that. Pretty little pussy’s all nice and wet for us,” Theo said with a chuckle. “You’re so eager, aren’t you? So insatiable, dolcezza. Maybe Mattheo and I should give you a double dose. Fuck you at the same time.”

“Yes,” you breathed, mewling as Theo continued rubbing lazy circles against your clit. “Please, please, I need it.”

“Just a cockhungry little slut. You’re fucking greedy, mi amor. Begging for both of our cocks. Don’t worry, baby. We’ll give you what you want. Fill you up like you need.”

You whimpered in response as Mattheo manhandled you, pushing your face into the pillows while he lifted your perky arse in the air. He kneaded your ass, rubbing his cock along your folds. When you grinded against him for more, Mattheo’s palm landed on your right cheek with a hard smack. As you looked behind you, Theo winked before slapping your left cheek. The sting of his palm burned against your skin, making your eyes water.

“What’s the matter, bella? I thought you wanted to play.”

“I do,” you breathed, gripping the sheets. “Please, Teddy. I need more. Spank me harder.”

“Dirty girl,” Theo said fondly. “Ask and you shall receive.”

As his palm came down on your ass over and over again, you gasped for breath, chasing air while Mattheo lined himself up at your entrance. Theo leaned down to kiss the handprints on your arse, biting softly and embedding his mark onto your skin before mirroring Mattheo’s actions. Theo teased against your puckering hole and nodded at the curly headed boy beside him.

He placed a soft kiss on Mattheo’s lips. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Mattheo responded with a grin.

You braced yourself to take both of them, gripping the sheets while they filled you simultaneously. It was a tight fit and you could feel both of your boyfriends stretching your walls.

“Such a good girl,” Theo groaned, moving slowly so you could adjust to his girth. “Letting Matty and I stretch you wide open. Fuck, I love being inside of you. It feels like fucking heaven, tesoro.”

Mattheo groaned in agreement. “Your pussy’s so wet. Does it turn you on to be ruined like this?” You cried in pleasure, mewling as Mattheo took Theo’s hand and placed it on your lower abdomen. “Feel that, mi corazón. Can you feel me fuck her deep, rearranging her insides?”

“Merda, you two are going to be the death of me.” Theo said, his dead eyes rolling back. “Fuck me, I could cum just watching Matty move inside of you, Y/N.”

As the two of them moved in sync, you gasped and panted, tears streaming down your cheeks from the overstimulation. There were so many sensations all at once, overloading your senses, making you writhe and whimper while your boyfriends ruined you. Mattheo tilted your chin, praises dripping from his lips, sweat slicked skin glimmering a pretty golden shade in the dim light.

The hard planes of his abdominal muscles rippled while he fucked you from behind, grasping at the base of your throat until you were gasping for air. “Who’s pussy is this?” Mattheo growled into your ear, his curls tickling your cheek while he released a ragged breath. “Who do you belong to, Y/N?”

“You and Theo,” you breathed. “Only you and Theo.”

Theo smiled at your answer, lacing your fingers together. “That’s right, principessa. You’re ours to love, to fuck, to worship. Don’t forget that.”

“Oh gods,” you moaned, gripping Theo’s hand while wrapping your fingers around the hand that Mattheo had around your neck. “I’m yours and you’re both mine.”

“Damn fucking right,” Mattheo said with a sharp thrust.

As Mattheo’s breathing grew more ragged, you and Theo both knew that he would succumb first. Theo fisted Mattheo’s curls in one hand and pulled him in for a filthy kiss, swallowing the cry that left his lips as he came inside of you. The sensation of him filling you up was too much to handle and the orgasm rocked your body, making your limbs seize as that familiar white hot heat blinded your senses.

Theo was the last to cum, pulling out of your sensitive hole so that Mattheo could wrap his lips around his cock. His endurance was rewarded with vulgar noises as Mattheo gripped his hips in place and sucked him dry.

When your third and final orgasm ran its course, you found yourself laying flat on your back, blinking back up at the ceiling as you regained control of your senses. Through the haze, you blinked and found Theo and Mattheo fussing over you, casting a cleansing spell and wiping your damp forehead with a clean cloth. With a smile, they both leaned in and kissed your cheeks before tucking you safely between them. You hummed, placing a gentle kiss on both of their foreheads.

“You know you two are all I need, right?”

Your boyfriends both nodded, curling against you. “Of course, mi corazón.”

“You’re all we need too, cuore mio.”

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appocalipse · 1 year

Text

RIGHT WHERE I WANT TO BE : ̗̀➛ SIRIUS BLACK

summary: it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with.

"Oh, crap!" Lily seems on the verge of panic as she stares at the fresh stain on your clothes. "I'm so sorry!"

Somewhat shocked, you reach your hand to the front of your uniform and try to rub it away. It's no use. "It's okay," you assure her gently, relieved that the liquid didn't spill on the clean set of clothes you were folding instead, "it was an accident."

You put the clothes safely away in the trunk near your bed. They still have the fresh and clean scent of lavender. Your uniform, however…

Lily points her wand at your chest, and the stain quickly disappears. She had rushed through the entrance of the dormitory fast as lightning, crashing right into you and spilling…

Well, what exactly?

"Lily," you bring a hand to your own face, sniffing, then sniffing again. "What is this? It smells like a wet dog and-"

Your eyes meet and you immediately dislike the look on her face. Too much restrained excitement slowly bubbling up...

"-cigarettes…" you trail off, some sort of realization dawning on you way too late.

It can't be.

Lily bites her lower lip as if trying to hold back a smile. "Is that what it smells like to you?"

You also catch the scent of quill ink and freshly brewed coffee, so it can only be…

You put your hand away from your nose as if it's on fire.

"Tell me this is not what I think this is."

"If you're not thinking of Amortentia, then yes."

"Why would you brew Amortentia?!"

"For Professor Slughorn," she sees the confusion etched on your face and looks positively horrified. "Not for Professor Slughorn to drink! Ew! I said I'd like to try brewing one because it's, you know, a bit complicated and I've never tried before. He said he'd give Gryffindor some points if I succeeded. I didn't know you would… you know, smell Sirius."

"I never said I smelled him!"

"Okay! Okay," Lily raises both hands in surrender. Then, quieter, she adds, "You can pretend all you want."

You sigh. "Did you only have this vial?"

"Well, there should be some potion left in the cauldron, I think."

Great. An opportunity to escape this beyond strange situation. "I'll go get it for you."

"But I-"

You're out the Gryffindor common room before Lily has a chance to question your offer. The need to get away from that impending conversation is stronger than anything else right now.

Your heart is racing as you walk through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the dungeons, where Potions class usually take place. Each step is an effort to calm your turbulent mind and find some peace.

Upon reaching the Potions classroom, you welcome the silent space as you enter. The characteristic smell of magical ingredients and herbs fills your nostrils, bringing a familiar and almost comforting sensation… until you catch that smell. Amortentia.

You look around, searching for Lily's cauldron, which she mentioned leaving behind.

It's not hard to find; the smell is quite distinct, enchanting, all the things you love most in the world somehow united in a single aroma.

The cauldron is sitting on one of the workbenches. You approach cautiously, making sure not to knock anything over. Then you rummage through the shelves for an empty vial and pour some of the potion into it, feeling like you're doing something wrong even though Lily had Slughorn's permission.

The door opens, and you almost drop a row of glass bottles as you turn to look.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

It's Sirius. Of course, it's him.

He closes the door behind him, and your heart skips a beat as it usually does whenever he's around. He's wearing the Gryffindor uniform, the first two buttons undone, revealing a patch of delicate skin just below his neck.

You don't need to wonder how he got there or why. Chances are, he extracted every piece of information he needed from Lily with little to no effort.

"What are you doing?" he asks calmly. You, on the other hand, don't feel calm at all.

"Nothing, just..."

"Just?" He takes a step closer, and you instinctively move away from the workbench, trying not to show the nervousness you truly feel.

"I just came to get something," you say.

Sirius gives a suspicious glance at the cauldron. "Is it a love potion?" He's a skilled wizard. Skilled enough to know the answer to that question, yet he waits for you to respond.

"Lily made it," you say defensively, holding up the vial containing the potion to illustrate your point unnecessarily.

"And what scent do you smell?" he questions, with a genuine curiosity in his tone that catches you off guard. "What does the potion smell like to you?"

"Lily told you," it's far from a question.

But Sirius has a knack for playing games.

"She told me what?"

"You know what."

This time, you step back as he advances, unable to help yourself, swallowing hard and Sirius notices. He takes another step forward, and you take another step back.

"Sirius," you warn.

In return, Sirius says your name, his tone lighter, more playful, soft as a feather. Then, another step.

You nearly bump your hip against one of the workbenches as you take another desperate step back. Sirius, being Sirius, raises an eyebrow, making no effort to hide his amusement.

It's unfair. It's simply unfair that he's so good-looking, starting at you without feeling the need to averting his gaze. "You don't have to do this," you find yourself saying.

Sirius seems genuinely puzzled.

"Do what?"

You steal a glance in your peripheral vision. The room won't go on forever; you need to say something to get out of this situation before he gets too close. You don't trust yourself near Sirius.

"Turn me down. Be all nice-" you stutter. He keeps advancing toward you. Back almost against the wall, you dodge another workbench and turn to the left, trying to prevent him from cornering you.

Sirius chuckles. "Is that what you think?"

"I'm a big girl. I can take rejection."

He glances in the direction of the cauldron. "Do you want to know what scent I smell?"

"No."

"Leather-"

"Sirius-"

"Gasoline," he raises his chin, nose in the air as if enjoying one scent after another. "Apple pie."

For a moment, you close your eyes. "Stop it."

"And lavender."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. He's not being serious, a little voice in your mind insists. It can't be serious. He's just teasing you... or maybe just being a good friend. Too good a friend.

It would be easier if he wasn't. If he were less kind to you, less handsome, less charming.

It's not easy.

You're breathless, trying to keep your distance from Sirius as he sets a slow advance, a constant tease. It's an internal battle between the desire to give in to the attraction you feel for him and the need to protect yourself — but the latter wins, for now.

"Sirius," you plead, your voice quiet, "stop"

He pauses for a moment, his gray eyes fixed on yours. "You think I'm joking, don't you? You think I'm just being nice?"

"I... I don't know, Sirius. It's so...confusing."

He takes yet another step towards you, his lips curling into a challenging smile. Always challenging. "Confusing or scary?"

The tension between you two is palpable, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart, threatening to break out of your rib cage any given moment. You know you're fighting your own feelings, afraid of surrendering to something that may - and probably will - end in heartbreak.

"It's not fair," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's not fair that you're so... so-"

"So what?" he teases, closer. "So handsome? So charming? So... irresistible?"

You can tell he's somehow having fun. You don't understand how he can maintain a playful tone in a moment like this.

You catch a whiff of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body, and your heart races once again. If there's a way to prevent Sirius from getting what he wants, you don't know what it is. "So confusing," you finish, almost in a whisper. "You confuse the hell out of me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, and you momentarily catch a flicker of something deeper in this playful gaze. He slowly raises a hand and gently, gentler than ever, caresses your face, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your skin.

"I don't see how I could be confusing you," he murmurs, his voice soft and husky. "I thought I was being pretty clear..." It's teasing, of course it is; when it comes to Sirius, few things aren't.

But there's something else behind it, too.

The air grows heavier.

"You're not clear about anything, Sirius," you reply, your voice faltering slightly. "I never know what you're thinking. I never know what you really mean."

"Maybe you're just not paying attention."

You furrow your brow, confused by Sirius' response. He's playing with you, as he always does, but this time it feels more intense, more meaningful. You struggle against the temptation to give in completely, to say something you might not be able to take back.

"I do pay attention, Sirius," you respond, your voice showing determination you're not entirely sure you feel. "It's you who likes to make everything more difficult than it needs to be."

He moves closer once again, so close now that you can feel his breath against your skin, the tip of his nose an inch away from touching yours.

"Do you want me to be clearer?" he whispers, voice laced with a hint of his usual mischief. "Make it easier?"

You swallow, feeling your heart race. You know you can't admit your feelings for him, you can't let your defenses down. Not when he makes a point to hide comfortably behind a facade, away from anything that makes him feel vulnerable.

You need honesty.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice almost faltering. "Yes, I do."

Sirius pauses for a moment, eyes searching yours, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Then, slowly, he moves closer and closer still, until his lips almost touch yours.

There is a feeling that you can't quite put into words.

"I want you," he murmurs, an admission that hangs in the air like a charged electric current. "I want to be with you. I want you to be happy– I'll even accept your awful taste in music," he adds with a playful smirk, teasingly referencing your occasional guilty pleasure for a particular genre of music that he often mocks.

A laugh escapes your lips, a combination of relief and affection. His sincerity is pretty close to melting away any remaining doubts that linger in your heart. "I have great taste in music," you state playfully.

Sirius brushes the side of his nose against yours affectionately. "Sometimes," he gives in, voice filled with genuine warmth.

You lean into his touch, savoring the tenderness and intimacy of the moment. It's as if the world around you has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of shared emotions.

"Sometimes?" you raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

He chuckles, a low and melodic sound that resonates deep within your chest, a sound you don't get to hear as often as you'd like. "You're lucky you're pretty," he teases, his voice filled with affectionate playfulness.

"Oh?"

"I have a soft spot for pretty girls."

You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that forms on your lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Black."

Sirius leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" he whispers, fingers trailing along the curve of your waist, drawing you closer. "I'm already where I want to be."

Your heart swells with warmth, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Smooth talker."

It doesn't sound like an accusation when you're about to kiss him.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black oneshot #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfic #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #sirius x you #sirius x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders imagine #sirius black drabble #marauders drabble #marauders era

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 3 months

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how do i get my character out of the corner i wrote myself in without a dues ex machina😭

How to Not Write Yourself Into a Corner (and How to Write Yourself Out of a Corner if You’re Already In One)

One of a writer’s WORST fears is writing themself into a corner.

It’s easy to write your characters into death-defying situations…but it’s not as easy to write the actual “defying death” part.

Some writers, in their desperation to get their characters out of a bind, employ the use of a Deus Ex Machina, as mentioned by anon:

Deus Ex Machina: (Translates to "god from the machine") A plot device where a seemingly unsolvable situation is fixed by an out-of-the-blue occurrence. The term “deus ex machina” is a reference to Greek plays, when actors playing a god would literally be lowered into the scene via a machine to magically solve any situation.

Unfortunately, this plot device is often ridiculed by readers, cited as a hack-job solution for a writer out of ideas.

How do we avoid this situation, then? Here are some tips and tricks on how to not write yourself into a corner, and how to write yourself out of a corner if you’re already in one!

Note that these tips may not work for everyone, so make sure to use your own intuition as a writer— you know your story best.

1. NIP IT IN THE BUD— OUTLINES ARE KEY!

I’m sorry to all of you pantsers out there, but the key to prevent writing yourself into a corner is to already have an idea of how each scene is going to turn out; don't make a problem without making a solution! If you keep on top of your outline, you should have no worries about writing your characters into a situation they can't get out of it.

It may be easiest to jot down ideas about a couple of scenarios and then select the one that works best, especially when it comes to dire climax scenes that have a lot of moving parts.

Check out my posts below for more in-depth advice about outlining!

How to Outline

Plotting for Pansters and Pantsing for Plotters

This advice, although essential, does require a ton of foresight and time to plan…and if you’ve sought out this post, it may mean that it’s too late for preventative measures. The subsequent tips in this post are going to be for people who are already in the thick of it and need a way to save all of their writing progress.

2. FORESHADOWING IS YOUR FRIEND (AKA “CHEKHOV’S GUN YOUR WAY OUT OF THAT SHIT”)

Foreshadowing: A narrative device wherein a writer gives an advance hint of what is to come later in the story. It helps maintain believability while subverting expectations and making plot twists.

Chekhov’s Gun: A narrative device wherein a seemingly insignificant element or object in the story becomes useful later on. Sometimes used synonymously with foreshadowing, but usually refers to a specific object.

Examples of Foreshadowing/Chekhov’s guns in media:

The 1981 Quarter (Or Extra Life Quarter) in Ready Player One

“Don’t Cross the Streams” in Ghostbusters (1984)

Winchester Rifle Hanging over the Bar in Shaun of the Dead (2004)

The Rita Hayworth Poster in The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

The Water Bottle in Bullet Train (2022)

In my opinion, a Chekhov’s Gun is the more refined twin of the deus ex machina; although it may seem like it comes out of nowhere, observant readers or those who go back into the story will realize that this event was set up from the beginning.

Foreshadowing is the key to turning a deus ex machina into a Chekhov’s Gun. It’s spreading breadcrumbs to maintain believability even when unbelievable things happen.

My advice: plant a line here and there referring to the object/element that will get you out of the corner.

These lines can be about a healing potion that a character carries around to save them when they’re at the brink of death, the fact that the city they’re fighting in often suffers from sinkholes, or that a character has a seemingly useless skill.

However, haphazardly inserting foreshadowing into your story may come across as heavy-handed; make sure it aligns with the narrative beats. Particularly big Chekhov’s Guns, especially ones that “save the day," may require multiple foreshadowing elements.

It can take a lot of work to incorporate the foreshadowing smoothly, so make sure it actually saves you time in comparison to rewriting the whole scenario/plot point.

3. TAKE A BREAK

Sometimes, the solution to your problem may not come to mind because you’re too immersed into the writing process and not thinking of the bigger picture. Or maybe it might just be good old-fashioned writer’s block. Take a step back, reassess, and return with the scene properly re-evaluated. Maybe start a new book or TV show to get some inspiration, or check out one of my posts below!

How to Overcome Writer’s Block

How to Get Inspired to Write and Regain Creativity

4. ASK FOR HELP

Sometimes, it might be best to have another set of eyes on your story! A situation that may seem unsolvable to you may have an obvious solution to a writing buddy.

5. KNOW THAT SOMETIMES RE-WRITING IS NECESSARY

I know this sounds horrible. It’s something that I wouldn’t wish upon any writer.

Sometimes, however, no amount of foreshadowing can get your characters out of the debacle they’ve put themselves in. Either that, or the work that it would take to insert the foreshadowing would be more than it’d take to rewrite the scene or the plot point.

My suggestion would be to search for the last place that you didn't feel lost, and then cut out everything after that.

(NEVER DELETE MAJOR CHUNKS OF YOUR WRITING! ALWAYS CUT IT AND SAVE IT IN A SCRAP DOC—IT COULD COME IN HANDY LATER!)

Then, take the time to outline the scenario and figure out the solution to your problem beforehand. It will suck, but trust me, it'll be worth it in the end.

HOPE THIS HELPED, AND HAPPY WRITING!

#writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writeblr #writing prompts #writing tools #booklr #creative writing #writers

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dabi-drift · 3 months

Text

I started writing this and got obsessed with Twisted Wonderland. I may have lost the plot.

Mash Burnedead x Reader (Mashle: Magic and Muscles):

Love was a feature of life that Mash needed you to unlock. You introduced him to it, to a kind that's just for you. He couldn’t feel this way for anyone else. You must've tied the red string to his finger, to make him yours before fate intervened.

Even if it's by spell or by potion, you're so unbelievably beautiful to him. If you reached for divinity, you'd find a place for yourself at once, but you're the only god in his pantheon.

Sometimes he thinks about this too much, but just know that you're always on his mind, even when he's not listening to you.

Meeting you was the only time he'd ever wished for magic. He saw your angelic camouflage, and then he saw behind it, and he still wanted you. But you're a double-liner, in a world where magic matters more than people. But you know that the status quo isn't always right, and you don't judge him for what he can't control. That feels different against the backdrop of love.

Pops has a suit ready for your wedding.

He doesn’t realise how much he talks about you, until his friends point it out. And he has to ask, what does it mean to like someone? He has no experience and no tact, so he asks Lemon for advice. But she's still upset that he asked her for another plush so he'd know what you looked like as a creampuff.

That made being her roommate very awkward.

A barrier isn't a barrier to Mash; he'll break them all to follow the whispers of his heart.

But romance is a language you'll have to teach him. He keeps his eyes open when he kisses you, and he hugs you like it's the last time you'll ever let him. He swears your hugs can heal him, but maybe he just likes how you feel when you laugh.

#mashle magic and muscles #mashle #mashle x reader #mash burnedead x reader

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pursuitseternal · 5 months

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“You had better tie me up, darling…” very nsfw (f*ck or die) update for Rogue Astarion in part 7 “Bites in the Night”

Astarion x F!Reader |E| 5.5K F*ck or Die Smut

Summary: He isn’t well… something he’s consumed… the blood of a Succubus in the heat of battle by mistake. He needs release… help… or else undead won’t be an accurate description of your vampire rogue any longer.

CW: rough sex, bondage, Sex Pollen Trope but blame those Succubi, feral rutting, blood kink (does that go without saying yet?), implied shared infection, tongue bath, raunchy and yet sweet confessions from his undead lips.

Read on AO3 | Series on AO3 | Master List

Better get your rope…

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Sunset always brought the demons out to play… and this time it had been real. Everything about the Shadow Cursed Lands fit the name… but you had all made it at last to the Last Light Inn.

Not without blood spatter and slaughter, fear and relief once victory over the Hellspawn was won.

Now at last, you can take your rest. In peace.

Most of your companions still drink and eat to their heart’s content. Of course, not your Rogue. After the fight, he had looked… gaunt. Tired. You had promised to come and let him feed, but first you needed your fill. He had flashed his smile at you before heading up the creaking stairs.

That was an hour ago. Now, you make your way to those same stairs, only to catch Shadowheart hustling down with wide eyes, Gale looking much the same as he follows.

“Come with us,” they whisper, leading you up the stairs in a hurry.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, anxiety darking your tone.

“It’s Astarion, he’s… unwell.” Gale… always so vague and polite.

“He’s in a rut,” Shadowheart snips back, exactly. “Literally.”

“What?” you startle.

“During the fight, he must have bitten and drank Succubus blood.” Gale rubs his fingers at his temple. “He’s locked in his room, but I fear he will claw his way through the door until he finds… relief.”

“Sex, you mean?” you can’t help but correct him too.

“It’s bad,” Shadowheart presses her lips together. “The blood is ten times worse than the spittle. Like, if he doesn’t find relief soon he could expire. Again. It’ll last him a full day to work out of his system.”

Your eyes go wide, your stomach sinking as well as your jaw. “Isn’t there some countermeasure? Some spell or… or potion?”

Shadowheart opens her hands, a small scroll in it. “Not for him, but for…”

“Me…” you realize. Your body tingles with the idea, that heady mix of fear of death and thrill of fucking with him. It always swims in your system before you go to his bed, but this time. It feels… more… exhilarating. More deadly. Riskier.

“It’s a scroll of Greater Protection… just in case he gets carried away.” Gale’s face screws into a look of discomfort.

“Keep your cunny from giving out on you.” Shadowheart winks.

That sinches up the knots in your stomach now. And by the time your cleric recites the spell, the dust in the air swirling into your lungs, you know you can’t turn back. You can’t forsake him.

You take a breath once they both wish you good luck, reassurances that the spell should be enough to keep you safe… but that they would come running if needed. That’s when Shadowheart stops you one more time, behind Gale’s back. She makes her face shush you silently as she shoves something into your hands.

A coil of rope. It tingles… enchanted probably for extra strength… that it could hold a deranged, sex-crazed vampire if worse came to worse.

That’s when you head up another flight of stairs, your heart beating faster with each step. Especially as you hear the grunts and growls that crescendo as you reach the landing. It’s easy to tell which room is his, the light under the door burns bright… the sounds of his voice raw and feral…

You hover your hand over the knob, sensing the magic that’s sealed him in. But you stop… that sound inside, you can tell already how he’s plagued. Rough, wet, and fast. The slap of his own hand tending to his… need.

You swallow, the beating of his fist on his cock already making you wet. Hells below… if there wasn't part of you that was just… tantalized. A small part, mostly cloaked in that heady fear to preserve your life.

But you feared no danger. And you by now… he would listen.

Maybe.

One last squeeze of the chord in your hand, you gripped the charged metal of the door, throwing it open.

He is naked, sitting on the edge of the bed at the back of the little room. His teeth glint in the firelight, his ivory skin glowing with sweat. Gods, if he had blood in his body, you are sure he would be beet red. His profile cut like the masterpiece he was. His throat bobbing as he swallows, the muscles of his arm bulging as he pleasures himself at a terrifying pace.

The sound as you shut the door behind him finally draws his attention.

He is… wild. Feral. Eyes so dilated, you can barely make out the ring of scarlet in them. His face shines from his exertions, he growls… like an animal… the second he sets eyes on you. His nose sniffing so hard at your scent… you can watch it open and close.

“Out!” He snarls, rising to his feet. That’s when you take in the full extent of his… suffering. He’s so erect, bigger than you have ever seen him. Harder. Throbbing so hard you witness it… where it stands almost vertically. Those intricate veins that usually rise subtly from his length strain dark, a web over his pale skin. “I’ll not hurt you, darling. Not you. Get out! I won’t have you!” He snaps his jaws. Every muscle in his body straining as he stands in place.

As if he’s fighting with himself.

“You will have me,” you snap back. “You don’t have a choice, do you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Not if you want to keep yourself in this realm. Undead you might be, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive… undead…”

That made him smile. Dark, wicked and still slightly manic. But it was there.

His eyes rake down your body, devouring you as he dares to let himself take one step. His eyes fall to your hand, the tangle of rope hanging visibly at your side. “Seems someone had the wisdom to not to send you in here defenseless and you stink of protective magic. Good,” he shudders as he talks. That voice sounding hollow. Pressed. Barely above a snarl. “I haven’t said this to many… but you had better tie me up, darling…”

He groans, forcing his body to move stiffly to the bed. The wood frame creaks and cracks as he crawls in, his rigid frame laying down.

That erection makes your mouth water, despite the obvious agony your vampire is enduring. But you can’t help but be mesmerized by how tall it stands as he pants on the bed. You cross to him, he can’t look at you, holding his hands out for you to bind.

Your hands work quickly, securing his arms firmly together, wrapping them to the scrollwork of the headboard.

His breathing is rough, ragged. His body twitches, shuddering each time your fingers barely grazie his arms and wrists. “Please,” he groans. “If you’re going to do this, then by the hells do it!”

His eyes are wide as he strains to look at you.

Your body aches, sympathy pains twitch down your spine to watch him quivering on the sheets. Your skin feels hot, your own body breaking into a sweat. He’s licking his lips, “Gods, if you go any slower getting something on this cock of mine, I can’t promise your safety, darling…”

You reach for that straining length, the second you wrap your fingers around it, he throbs and groans and twitches. His hips bucking into your hand, legs propped up so he can fuck anything you can get around his cock. You beat against his thrusts, that hardness unrelenting even as you move quicker than you usually do. Looking into his face, you move even faster, his face contorted in agony, his teeth biting so hard into his lips he’s bleeding.

He thrusts and groans and cries as he comes. Spurts of his seed drip down his shaft, coating his already damp lap, trailing milky streams as far as his belly.

But his breathing eases for a moment, his muscles softening just a bit perceptively. And Astarion gives a single contented sigh. “All that with just your hand. You little minx… pacing yourself?” he purrs. “Won’t you at least kiss me hello?”

You give him a small grin, at least he sounds like himself. His eyes are a bit more focused, his voice a bit more silken.

What harm could one kiss do?

You lay alongside him, pressing your lips to his.

The moment you touch, you can feel it, the heat, the lust, and the agony roaring full force through his veins. He’s straining on his bonds, trying to claw you into him. His mouth consumes you, sucking your lips inside his mouth, drawing them deep enough for him to bite. The tang of blood covers your tongue. And his.

He’s frenzied for more, biting you again and again. Drinking the blood that leaks from your kiss. Then you feel it, his legs, untethered, grip around your waist, sliding you to cover his naked, throbbing body. “Astarion!” you cry, muffled by his mouth. But he has you pinned between his thighs. Not unlike that first day in the wreckage.

His erection presses into your belly, he’s grinding it against the linen of your shirt. Rough and aggressive. As if he means to tear a hole in the soft fabric. He keeps you there, humping and riding into your abdomen. Grinding against your mound. Sucking and drinking your kiss as long as you let him.

Not that you have much of a choice, caught in his legs. “Easy,” you breathe, managing to steal your mouth back for the moment. “Easy…” you soothe again, making your body bear down against where he dry fucks against you.

“There is nothing I have in mind to do to you that would be easy…” he hisses. His voice almost sounds… not of this realm. And you press out of the clutches of his fangs. But he just raises his head higher, eyes crazed at the sight of the wounds he’s made on your bleeding and split lips.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you catch his throat under your palm. “It’s for your own good.” You feel his breath rasp, the ragged swallows of spit under your palm.

“The minx has claws…” he growls as you keep his head down.

“Only when you make me use them, Astarion,” you smirk. “Now, if you can keep your mouth to yourself, I’d be more than happy to put mine to other uses.”

“Gods, yes,” he moans. “It’s unbearable, the lust, the need to drive into you. Please put me out of this agony, darling. Please…”

The second you wrap your lips around that fleshy, pulsing head, his cock twitches out of your reach. With a smile and a lick of your tongue, you grip his straining, iron length, holding it steady as you run from base to bulging tip. The bitter tang of his cum fills your mouth. Making you swallow. Making you realize just how used to it you will be before the day of this torment is through.

You manage to still him enough with his squirming and bucking to get your mouth around him. Gods, it’s like stone in your mouth, every vein dragging over your tongue and you suck. You manage to bob your head up and down, avoiding the way he’s thrusting to get more of him down your throat.

The noises from his throat sound pained… agonized panting for more. “That’s it…” he’s hissing as you swirl your tongue around that ridge of his head. “Gods, do that again.” You do, laughing in your throat as you run your tongue over that seeping slit in his tip… so tight as you lap the stains of his cum. You feel it under your hand that works the base of his cock, that thickening, quickening spasm.

He howls, jamming his length into your pursing lips. And this time, you let him. His seed spills down your throat, spurting over your tongue and dripping in your cheeks. More with every pulse as he slowly begins to still again.

One last suck, you swallow him down. Greedily. Wondering if that succubus magic isn’t somehow in your system too. It’s heady, intoxicating. The way he’s glaring at you with his flame-kissed, glistening sweaty face.

But for now, he’s calmer. For now. “Darling…” he’s sighing as he tries to ease into the bed. “You… didn’t have to do this, you know. It’s still such a risk… if I didn’t… care for you… who knows how much of your body would be in one piece when this finally passes.”

“Oh I’m sure I’d leave in one piece… but maybe mostly bloodless and unable to walk straight…” you laugh leaning over him, placing a kiss on his dampened lips.

He slips his tongue in right away, searching for the taste of him in your mouth. He growls again, that throbbing suffering of lust raging beneath his skin again. “I want to see you,” he snarls. “I want to take you naked this time, my pet.” You shiver at the echo of pure desire in his silken voice. As if it doesn’t always drip with seduction. This… you shiver. This was even more wild, unchecked, feral. The need to rut. To fuck.

He looks at you with those heavy-lidded eyes, so dark with his lust, his attraction for you, you feel your own arousal dripping between your thighs. He purrs,“I want to be inside you, darling…”

Your hands couldn’t tug your clothes off fast enough, cursing the practicality of breeches. At last, you stood as he wished. Bared. Ready.

You scramble on the bed, throwing your legs around him. He seems… steadier. Still harder than rock, but less desperate. He strains against his binds, wriggling his lean and wiry body beneath you. So beautiful, every etched line of his muscles, every rise of his stomach, every vein that protrudes in his arms.

You caress him, once on his chest. So damp with sweat. Running your tongue up the center of those muscles, he shivers. The salt of his body makes your mouth water again.

“Hells, are we sure you haven’t ingested the same as me, my sweet?” He croons with a soft little laugh. “Or is this just all for me, darling, to ease my suffering.”

“To keep you alive? I’d do so much more than just lick the sweat from your body,” you taunt back, your voice so low and sultry, you barely recognize it.

He flashes his fangs at you, licking his lips. “Like slipping that sweet cunt on me? Riding me until you are dripping again?”

Ugh… you moan. “Yes,” you pant, “like that.”

The moment he feels your drenched folds hover over his cock, he spears into you. He screams at your union. “Sweet hells,” he groans, voice rasping and sore. “Yes, darling, give me everything. I can take it all…”

You lean over him, your hair cascading down in a curtain as you splay your hands on either side of his head. Barely brushing against his damp, unruly silver locks. You give the smallest rise of your body, the steadiest drag of your walls around his cock. He cants his hips beneath you, timing just right to shove up into your cunt as you settle back down.

A chorus of groans escape you both. He’s sputtering, “Please, darling, again,” over and over. Each time you give him what he wants, only to have him careening up into you harder. Begging for you to go faster.

Soon, your pace is breakneck, your own body shimmering in sweat as you buck and writhe and groan.

His eyes never blinking, those dark black pupils are wide as he watches your face twisting as you chase your own climax, flickering to the swaying of your breasts as they slap together each time you fuck him. They dart to watch where you are joined, where his stiffening cock pierces between your thighs, drenched in his cum and your arousal with every loud, squelching slap you make.

He’s merciless, finally hitching his hips to drive the hardest into you yet. You feel it when he comes inside you now, the sheer volume of his spew, hot and dripping from inside those walls where he’s buried in deep. Your belly aches from where he’s hammering against the end of your channel. More cum with each twitching spurt you feel. He screams like one wounded, his orgasm drawn out as you chase your peak yet. But he’s panting beneath you, catching his breath as he licks his lips.

Even more limp this time.

You’re relieved in your heart, even if your loins ache from the friction, the need to still release your own bliss. His brows furrow, his lips pouting as he looks into your eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” you gasp, even as your arms quiver and your thighs shake with the need to continue.

“No,” he squirms and tugs at the tethers. “Infernal rope. If you just let me free, I swear I’ll make it up to you…”

Your mouth waters. He would probably just find a way to break it or chew through that rope if he had to. A smirk plays across your lips, leaning forward to reach your knots. His cock slips out from inside you as you do, making him groan again.

The rope tugs apart in your fingers. Instantly his hands pull free, he shoves you over his face, so close already as you lean forward. He growls, his tongue slipping into your folds. His hands claw into your, gripping at the backs of your knees, spreading you wider as he eats into your cunt with all the hunger you feel raging in his body.

Starving, he feasts on you, and it takes all your strength to hold yourself up, hands splayed on the mattress over his head. That swirl of his tongue… that sucking of his lips on your clit, you already creep closer and closer to that swirl of heat simmering ready to consume you. It sweeps through you, cresting and tearing from your core up your spine.

And then, the world spins. His arms clutch around your legs, throwing you over. You're screaming, still spasming and clenching around nothing. Until your back is sprawled on the bed… until he’s shoved his cock into the last dregs of your orgasm. It makes you whimper his name once more, until you feel another spasm ripping through you.

Only this time, he’s pounding into you, thrust by thrust. Giving you something long and hard and cold splitting you in two as you go limp beneath him. His mouth descends on yours, sucking your breath from your body even as he traps your lips, your tongue with his own.

Manic, driven, he fucks you like one possessed, eyes wide as he finally pins you beneath him. Having his way with you as he chases that required release.

You lay back, still swollen and numb from your pleasure. But he is nowhere near close, not as his hands claw down your side, latching around your legs to make you wrap around his narrow waist. “Gods, you’re so tight, so wet… there have been none like you, darling. None I have wanted as badly as you.” He growls, fingers reaching around the backs of your ass, clamping into your cheeks. He raises you just enough to drag his length all the deeper. Making you keen and mewl and sputter incoherently.

Every nerve in your body hums, every patch of pleasure between your thighs feels him inside you. Gods, if it wasn’t for that scroll, you are certain you would pass out, lying there unconscious while he works this tainted blood from his own body.

By using yours.

By using you.

It makes you smile. Twisted and delighted to be so at his disposal. You were used to his fangs in your neck, his cock plowed into your cunt and his hips clenched between your thighs… but this…

This was intoxicating. Unbridled, unihibited fucking.

For his own sake of course.

That tainted blood and its magic being burned up with each time he filled you to bursting with his seed.

And as if his fixated eyes, hazy with his lust, can read your thoughts, he groans as he thrusts the harshest into you yet. So deep and hard and wild, you wriggle and claw against him as if you could shove him away from where he prods at the end of your cunt. But he only laughs. A laugh swallowed up as he is thrown off by another climax, another spilling of his cum that runs down your body and sticks to your skin. He pants as he looks straight into your face, manic and depraved.

“By the time this is through, your belly will swell from me, won’t it, darling? So filled with my cum, gods, you’ll be leaking for a week. For a fortnight.” He kisses into your neck, your body shivering at the chill of his breath on your skin. “And I’ll have the pleasure of smelling it, of remembering every time you took it so well, darling. I’m so very pleased…”

You look at him, half lidded and panting as he lifts his mouth from your flesh. “As I am…” you hum, running your hands up the ridges of his back, over those mysterious lines of Infernal, to thread your fingers into his damp silver hair.

He purrs as he kisses your lips, a sigh of his satisfaction as he tangles his tongue with yours. You taste yourself still in his mouth. Always so hungry, he is. It makes you wonder… “Aren't you going to beg me to feed, Astarion?”

“Hmm, if the offer is on the table, I’d love nothing more than to sup on… all… that you have to offer…”

He slowly slinks down your body. Your breath quickens, heart racing as he wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs. “Sweet hells, you're going to…”

The lap of his tongue up your seam again unravels you immediately. Your hands fly into his hair, pushing him away and pulling him deeper into your cunt with equal measure. You don’t know which you want more. He’s feeding on you, humming in delighted pleasure as he licks his cum from your folds, his eyes gazing up into your face as you pant and watch. Mesmerized by every dart and swirl of his pink tongue.

He licks his lips, “There is only one thing sweeter than the taste of us,” he purrs, low and deep in his throat, before he laps in a long, wet streak up your thigh. “Your blood, darling, my first living blood, and the last I ever want to drink in the realm…”

Your heart skips a beat, his words sweetening the pain of his bite into your thigh’s supple flesh. “Yes, love, yes,” you feel the wave of your joining… your connection by blood as you now fill him as he has filled you.

“That’s why I call you my sweet, you know… my little treat. None I have tasted… nothing comes close to how your blood sings in my veins like the way your body trembles beneath me.”

He bites you again and again up and down your thigh… little nips of his fangs, making blood drip down the softness of your skin as he licks every tiny trickle.

And all the while, he growls hungrily as he feeds.

It isn’t pain that fills you… not even pleasure. It is pure rapture. Pure bliss that rides up and down your spine. His fingers slowly, languorously curling into your folds, catching on that secret spot just inside that he knows so well.

“You’ve been so generous,” he purrs, letting the low rumbles of his voice shake into your already throbbing folds. “So good to help me through this. Giving me everything.” He glances up from between your thighs, pure wicked delight on his handsome face. “Well, I hope you haven’t given me everything. I think this tainted blood is going to take much, much more before it’s through…”

He pauses his sweet words to circle your clit, sucking it hard in time with the pulsing of those long, cold fingers inside you.

“You will come for me again, won’t you?”

You can’t even get a word in before he builds you to bursting. Driving you to shatter on his hand, under his mouth, as that voracious tongue laps at the arousal that spills from you. Your world spins, nothing but his touch on your skin, his fingers still clenched deep in your cunt.

You’re floating, limp as your muscles flood with warmth and pleasure. Steadied only by the bed at your back and the little sucks of his lips and the wet passes of his tongue over the blood on your thighs.

“Mmm,” he hums as he draws himself up to sit between your outstretched legs. “Every time with you is just perfect. And not just because it’s chasing the devil from my veins, you know…”

He shifts over you, dragging that heavy, cold, unyielding body across your skin. Making you shiver. Spasm. Making you reignite with desire for more of him again and again. That knee… that wicked, provocative knee… it creeps beneath yours to hook you, to spread you wide again as he glides his cock through the mess of your unions already drenching you.

“Seems you still have some of the devil in you, needing to be driven away, hmm?” you flirt, trying to maintain some composure, until he grinds against your already overstimulated folds, your aching clit, reducing you to nothing but moans and spasm.

And he laughs. “Why, my darling, it seems your body is as raging as mine.” His hands stroke against your cheek, fingers teasing their tips into your errant strands of hair that stick to your face. “Why, if I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were the one infected, if I didn’t still have this raging erection needing release…”

You catch him by surprise, buckling your knees around his waist, the wetness of your cunt almost drawing him inside you as you buck against him.

He groans, just a little thrust of his hips and he’s sheathed, so deep and already pulsing with that tainted, blinding need to fuck again.

You giggle, watching his eyes darken, his lids lowering to gaze with all the raging lust in his body upon the one he desires. The only one. As he is yours. You sigh, running your hands up those intricate scars of his back, “I am infected too, you know. Infected by my need for you, perhaps.”

His kiss descends to cover your lips, but it is one of tenderness. Longing. Unsated need softened by the affection that brims in the way he takes you this time.

He is slower, deliberate. Each thrust an offering of adoration for your body. Each drag of his cock inside your folds an expression of his gratitude, his devotion.

His proclamation that you are, in fact, perfect.

Your body rides his, melting into every motion your legs tight around his narrow waist, his arms slinking around your shoulders, pressing your face into the broadness of his shoulder. You gasp against his neck, wrapped in his pleasuring of you, as if you could pull him into your very being more.

That rhythm, that rocking, it begins to sweep you away, binding you to his body. Claiming you for his own. That same fever crawls in his veins as he clutches at you, that tempo increasing harsher. Faster. Until he’s groaning with all his feral drive again.

He pulls out from you, only to slam himself into your cunt, every inch of that long, pulsing length of his filling you to bursting.

He can’t take his eyes off you, raised up in his hands now. His crimson glare consumes your every reaction, every twitch and grin and grimace of painful bliss that he commands from you. Pummeling into you over and over again, your hands claw into his shoulders, slipping down his back to savor the feeling of every undulation of his hips into your core.

“So good… so perfect…” he purrs, ravenous in his gaze, “my only blood… my living blood…” the hard lines of his body ride over every nerve in yours. Your body burns. On fire. Consumed. His words tingle in your ear, caressing your heart that raps in your chest, pattering in time with his merciless thrusts.

It’s brutal, it’s unrelenting.

It’s wonderful. The sliding of his sweat soaked body over yours, your skin flaming and damp. “Hells,” you groan as that thick head of his cock presses and drags over that sweet spot in your channel. “Astarion…” you moan his name, almost incoherent aside from all he is.

“Mmmm darling,” he rasps, “no sweeter sound than my name on your lips… well,” he hums giving you thighs and extra hard slap that squelches with all your sweat and arousal, “aside from the way your body sounds as you take me over and over again so eagerly…”

Your eagerness peaks, your body ripping in two around the rapid plundering inside you. You sputter his name again, a moan that tears from your throat, a scream that makes his handsome face twisting in ecstasy as he rams hardest yet, pulsing and hitching and forcing his eyes to stare as you unravel. Sopping and drenched, the warmth of your fresh slick mingles with his, coating your thighs and his as it seeps from where you couple.

He groans, dropping his weight on you, blanketing you in his scent and sweat and panting frame. He places his damp forehead against your cheek, his cool breath making you shiver as he finally seems to relax. Even if his cock is still hardened and buried inside you.

You feel the rigid planes of his body slipping across yours with every one of your combined breaths. Signing in relief, you relish just how dirty you feel.

How dirty you’ve been.

“Once this has worked its way from your system, you will need to bathe me,” you pant. Your fingers linger and stray through the damp and sweaty curls of silver that stick to his face.

“That can be arranged…” those eyes, that face suddenly twisting again with all the depravity he still has simmering under his skin and in his mind. “Or would you settle for my tongue instead, darling?”

You shake your head, face bright, amused and skeptical. “As if you could accomplish that without bending me over in your state…”

“Mmmm,” he nuzzles against you, tilting his face to run the cold, damp pad of his tongue up your jaw. Laughing as you tremble. “You assume I could accomplish such a feat as resisting your charms without this suffering of tainted blood…”

He slips his cock from inside you, and you moan into his mouth, turning to bring that taunting smirk against your lips. Just for a moment kissing him, before he returns to lapping and caressing your sweat soaked cheek. You sigh with relief, stretching your legs, clenching them together to relieve the throbbing of your muscles.

And this was with that magical healing to sustain you.

You shake your head, in amused, affectionate irritation. Feeling his still erect cock beginning to rub against your hip. His tongue darts across your neck, the unvoiced question in the deliberate lapping and dragging of his fangs on your flushed and pulsing neck.

“For the love, please,” you pant, arching into him with your feverish body, your lust still matching his each time it rises, even as your muscles and marrow scream for reprieve. “Just a bit of rest, love, surely that tainted blood’s hold on you is lessened…”

“But what of your hold on me, hmm?” he rasps into the rapid pulse of your neck. “What if it’s not the succubus whose magic has consumed me, driven me mad and feral, making me no more than a rutting beast…” he gives that low throated giggle. “Your fault, you know, my sweet.”

You breathe heavily, aroused and exhausted in equal measure. “I take full blame,” you laugh weakly, “but it’s only because you’re so beautiful…”

“And witty… and passionate…” he adds a roll of his hips as he utters that last word, grinding that still hardened cock against your side.

“Just… a breath,” you plead. “Just a moment. You don’t seem to be so near death’s door now…”

“I’ll try not to take offense at that barb, given how good you’ve been and how much I’ve fucked you senseless,” he chides.

You laugh again, a bit of a whine in your voice. “Can’t you take care of just one by yourself…”

He murmurs in your ear. “Darling, I’ll take my pleasure from you in every way, in every hole, until this tainted blood is burned up in the blaze of my lust for you,” he groans, “or until I’ve completely exhausted you, leaving you spent and heaving. And then I’ll simply seek my own pleasure just at the sight of you sleeping.”

You stretch, clenching your whole body hoping for that release and rest. If he lets you have it for a moment. “Mmmm, well love, sounds like I’ll really need that bath in the morning any way you come at it…”

He giggles again. Naughty. Dirty. His hand now wrapped firmly around his cock, rubbing for himself, letting it beat against your skin softly. “Oh… I’ll come at it, don’t you fret… darling.”

845 notes · View notes

malewifeharem · 2 months

Text

yandere!malleus alphabet

彡- ,, yandere twst malleus alphabet (template from @dear-yandere eheheheh)

cw ⁞ violence, blood, manipulation, just general yandere behaviour??? kinda suggestive in K. not proofread.

an ⁞ feel free to req more of this for other characters only from om! for now :')

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

VERY INTENSE, to say the least. fae are known to be very territorial and possessive and malleus isn't an exception. he likes to shower you with affection and expensive gifts such as jewels or gold and doesn't allow you to 'reject' them. he has no objections to locking you up somewhere he can keep his eyes on you or starting wars with other kingdoms if it means that you'll be his.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

he definitely wouldn't mind getting rid of any nuisances getting in between the both of you but he always makes sure to clean up before you arrive. the scene is extremely gruesome — blood and guts would basically be in every crevice of the room. he only manages to get rid of the stench with his magic, so he tries to not kill people too often, lest he ends up overblotting and harming you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

nope nope nope. it doesn't matter how pathetic you look when you cry, he could never ridicule you like that. you just need to get used to your new environment! can't you see that he really wants the best for you?

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

his gifts and affection will be reciprocated, whether you like it or not. sure, he'll be more lenient if you've only just been captured but you can't keep shunning him away! will tie your wrists and ankles together to get you to stop struggling during naps and cuddle sessions. he has slipped love potions into your food before too.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

you and lilia are probably the only people who know about his... aggressive tendencies. he'll often times weep at your feet inconsolably — crying about how much he loves you and how it hurts when you don't feel the same way. as if that wasn't uncomfortable enough, he'll suddenly start rambling on about how you'd love his tower in briar valley and that you'd have no need to ever step out of it. humans like living in that kind of luxury, right?

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

fight back? against the 5th most powerful magic wielder in the world? yeah, good luck. he would never intentionally harm you, but you're really breaking his heart like this. he simply doesn't understand why you're so upset and just tries to calm you down to the best of his abilities. this is just a small lover's spat, it'll all be over soon!

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

he does not find this funny, he takes it very seriously. what's wrong with what you have now? do you not like his gifts? why do you keep trying to run away? he's very confused and hurt — nevertheless, he always manages to catch you, leaving you right back where you started.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

before your abduction, you were still the human transfer student at NRC, you were still allowed the freedom to talk to anyone you wanted. malleus knew you and leona were quite close — the lion male having a small liking towards you. he was already quite irked at the sight, but he snapped when you hugged the lion, enchanting the whole vicinity with his signature spell — causing everyone to fall into a deep slumber. that's when he took the opportunity to lock you up in his room and you've been there since.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

he hopes to marry you one day and have you rule briar valley with him as his rightful queen. he definitely wants to have a family with you too, he does need to continue his royal fae bloodline!

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

YES. he tries to talk to you and hear whatever complaints you have but it's all in vain. he refuses to believe that you loathe him. he'll stand there in silence before quickly excusing himself — you don't see him for a few days. what does he do during this time? oh i don't know... maim whatever friends you have left? (ehe!)

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

he's very sweet. he has never felt so strongly for anyone before and he's going to give all of his love to you! he's constantly touching you, whether or not it's wrapping his arms around you or marking you up with bites. it's how fae show affection for their loved one! he'll charm you with his honeyed words — praising you when you're being obedient in the daytime and gently lulling you to sleep by night.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

before your abduction, he'd slip beautifully handwritten letters into your locker. however, it has no sender — your only clue as to who it was being the bright green wax seal. you thought it was just a random diasommnia student and didn't think much about them till the contents of these letters started becoming increasingly disturbing. saccharine poems of love and his promised reveal turned to bitter jealousy and rage at your 'infidelity' to him. how dare you speak to other students, especially those from his own house! you stopped receiving letters entirely but malleus suddenly started showing up at ramshackle dorm more often.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

sort of? lilia is the only other person who knows about his treatment of you. to everyone else, he's still unapproachable and cold. only you get to see him all pathetic and vulnerable. (manfailure)

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

being locked up in his room means zero contact with the outside world — you wonder how ace, deuce and grim are doing. solitude was enjoyable sometimes, sure, but you haven't seen anyone who isn't malleus for weeks. imagine the horror when even he stops showing up! this silent treatment usually ends within a few days because it breaks his heart to not speak to his darling too.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

you're pretty much deprived of social interaction. i hope you have an interest in gargoyles.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

he's surprisingly patient. his punishments are all quite tame — none of them being harmful to you. he understands if you need more time to get used to your new life but make him wait too long and he might slip a love potion into your food!

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

no. just no. if you died, he'll find a way to resurrect you — charm, potion, curse, spell, anything. trying to escape from him isn't something feasible for a human. you're stuck with him forever!

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

your cries of sorrow does bring him a sense of guilt and regret but the thought of letting you openly roam free again brings him more rage and worry. try convincing him to go out with you to a secluded area — he might agree if he's in a good mood!

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

poor dragon boi has lived for almost two centuries with no one he can consider a friend :( everyone's too scared or cautious of him to talk normally. so when a sweet fragile human like you treats him so nicely, he might just tear up. especially since you continued to do so after learning of his identity.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

( already kinda answered in C and F)

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

(i don't think so? define classic yandere :'D)

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

he's so patient and kind, if you play your cards well, you might be able to convince him to let you out for a little while — under his supervision, of course.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

intentionally, no. never! he has definitely damaged (killed) whatever social life you had before and your freedom but it was mostly unintended! (yea ok malleus...)

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

he likes to think that you two are equals — you as his bride, wife, future queen. he treasures whatever shred of affection you give him but i don't think he'd ever reach the point of kissing the ground you walk on or anything like that.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

(read H) in order to get to that point, he's already been tolerating your 'unfaithfulness' for a few months.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

probably. he already uses love potions on you, who's to say he won't make it permanent?

288 notes · View notes

koolades-world · 14 days

Note

can i have the om brothers dealing with insomniac+workaholic!mc? Diavolo made a grave fucking mistake when unwillingly inviting mc to the devildom. can't sleep? work. bored? work. have nothing else to do? ask Lucifer or Diavolo for more work to do, or maybe cook something for Beel.

also, insomnia isn't easy to deal with. they have to pull out the strongest sleep potion or magic out there for that fucker to sleep. "oh have you tried melatonin?" YES I HAVE?? I'VE TRIED- "do you turn off your lights when you go to sleep?" no, i sleep with the lights on-- OF COURSE I TURN OFF THE LIGHTS YOU FUCKIN BALL LICKER. "maybe stop being on that phone of yours at late at night.." I CAN'T FUCKING SLEEP SO I MIGHT AS WELL DO SOMETHING.

whenever mc runs out of things to do, they re-do an assignment that got less than a 100% score.. someone drag this dymbfuck away from their work..

can i be🍷anon? or glass-eater anon? :3

hello!! yes, of course

those are both amazing anon names haha, welcome to the anon crew

enjoy <3

Workaholic Insomniac Mc

Lucifer

you can bet both of yall are making eye contact in the hallway at four am, and neither of you have slept

he gets you bestie

however he's willing to acknowledge both of you are practicing an unhealthy habit

together, you can take days off and as much as you itch to do work, you can stop each other. what a fun bonding activity!

Mammon

this is just like dealing with lucifer so he knows the drill

let you work as much as you want during the day without shirking your other responsibilities, but after dinner, he's dragging you away from it by the back of your shirt

when he can't fall asleep, he goes for a night drive, to nowhere in particular

so, he always invites you, because he knows you can't say no to him

Levi

he's also almost always awake at odd hours of the night, so he's always available

he would not be great to work in the same room as though

however he is willing to get you away from your work for a while to play some games with him

he knows that you need time away from that paper work and as much as you want to go back to it, he'll keep you with him until you complete the level. mark his word haha

Satan

will help you make those sleeping potions, or has solomon make some for you

if you ever want help with your work, he's willing to lend a hand, even though he knows you almost always say no

whenever you're awake at night, he'll come and sit where ever you're sitting to read so you'll have company

more often than not, he and belphie are next to you while you work as a silent indicator of what, or who, is waiting for you when you're done or want to take a break

Asmo

he fully believes in relaxing before bed and since he loves it so much, he suggests you try it with him

the first night you tried didn't really go as planned because he got a little overexcited so you had to try again the next night

that goes much better, and while it wasn't instant sleep, it was certainly better than staring at the ceiling for hours

plus, you get to spend time with asmo! who doesn't want that?

Beel

he won't lie he does enjoy the occasional impromptu meal you make for him when you've really got no more work to do (which is rare)

but he's concerned about you

honestly he thinks you're just like lucifer, you sincerely care about those around you and you work with them in mind

if you ever find random refreshments on your desk in the few moments you were gone, just know it was probably him

Belphie

as the self proclaimed king of sleep, he's always going out of his way to try and help you out

sometimes he falls asleep on your bed waiting for you to join him, while satan is still somehow going strong with his reading

if he notices you sitting at your desk for far too long, he'll start to whine and complain until you get in bed with him

sometimes, while he feels guilty, he'll use his power to help you fall asleep faster and give you a sweet dream that's usually about him

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me lucifer #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

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snailsrneat · 19 days

Text

Yandere Vil Schoenheit Headcanons

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

TW: Kidnapping, Stalking, Posioning

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I think if anyone got literally any of the overblot boys as their yandere they'd be pretty fucked.

Mostly because the overblot boys hold a lot of power and have tons of magic.

Vil, specifically, however is one of the few who won't ever use his magic on you.

No instead he'll just use potions on you (:

When you two first met, it wasn't exactly love first sight, more like first word.

Cause when he saw you, he wasn't impressed.

'This is the prefect everyone's been so obsessed over? Really?'

He honestly thought that you'd be more impressive, more magnificent and elegant if you will.

His first impression of you however immediately changed when you had begun barking orders at fellow freshman in an attempt to defeat him.

Never once has he seen a freshman, one as weak you, calling the shots amongst the student body.

Something must be different with you. And he had to figure out what.

From then onward he recruits Rook to spy on you and learn what your day-to-day patterns are like.

In the process Rook also listens in and learns all your secrets. All of which he reports to Vil.

The Vil learns about you the more he falls in love with you.

He obsesses over every single detail of you, from little moles in unseen places to the formation of stress wrinkles crowding over your forehead.

Every minute detail that he can find, he wants pepper with kisses and tell you just how weak in the knees you make him.

A part if him feels silly for getting weak for someone as mediocre as you, but the other half of him wants to steal you away and lock you in his bedroom so you never have to be troubled by those horrible boys you call "Friends".

In fact...that's a fantastic idea! Why hasn't he thought of this before? That way he can watch you up close.

No longer will he need Rook to do all his stalking, not when you're already here and so close.

When he kidnaps you he does it under the guise of you try a new tea blend he was given. But, unfortunately for you, the tea just so happens to be spiked.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry dear, I didn't think one of my own fans would try to spike my tea! Here let me help you get to the infirmary~"

He's an actor so he's very good at being melodramatic.

Instead of waking up in the infirmary, you wake up his bedroom, with your arms chained to the bed posts and dressed in expensive satin pajamas.

When Vil comes into the room and notices your struggling, he chides you for bruising you beautiful skin.

He doesn't release you from the chains, but he does his best to keep you comfortable.

"Only the best for you, darling. You shouldn't worry yourself with such needless things. What you should be thinking of is me, and only me. Understand?"

If you ever try to escape, don't.

I'm warning you, if Vil catches you trying to escape it'll be worse than just staying chained to his bed all day.

It's even more terrible if you've been getting "closer" with him recently, because now he knows that he shouldn't trust you fully. Ever.

If he catches you, he'll no longer allow you to be comfortable.

Instead of that nice comfortable bed, you sleep in a dog cage in the corner of his room.

And the days have started to blur together now, he started poisoning your food to make sure you don't do anything.

Most days your too tired to anything, let alone fight back or come up with escape plans.

If he has to start treating you like a baby he doesn't mind, he likes making you depend entirely on him.

"You know you did this to yourself, right? Trying to escape was a foolish endeavor and you must face the consequences of your actions..aw, you're crying darling. Don't cry, it'll give you wrinkles. Don't worry my love, this hurts me more than it hurts you. Now drink this."

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misc-obeyme · 11 months

Note

hello o/ anon who requested the brothers turning into cats forever ago here!!

can i request mc turning into a cat this time?? whether the brothers already had the experience and know what the cure is is up to you!!

Welcome back, anon!

I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this! I got it right in the middle of my prompt event so I had to sit on it for a few days.

Anyway, that cat request was so fun, I definitely wanted to do this one, too! I can only assume it's because I'm totally a cat person that I find these so enjoyable to write lol. And someone has also requested the dateables turning into cats, so I will be posting that part two soon as well.

the brothers react to GN!MC turning into a cat and breaking the curse with true love's kiss

Warnings: none!

Lucifer

Recognizes you right away. He can probably sense the magic that turned you into a cat to begin with. If you seek him out for assistance, he's going to be the one who knows exactly what to do. If he's alone when you first find him, he's going to be struck by just how cute you are as a cat. Picks you up and holds you tucked against his chest. Start purring to really make his cuteness tolerance overload.

He's not going to let you go anywhere. Depending on how long you're in cat form, he's going to want to make sure you're taken care of. Keeps you in his lap while he does research into what needs to be done to restore you back to normal.

If he finds out that this was a result of something you did - such as a prank gone wrong or a messed up potion - he is going to lecture you the entire time you're a cat. You can't talk back or leave, so he's taking full advantage. You should be more careful, MC. You're just lucky you have him around to help you when you get into this kind of trouble.

Doesn't even hesitate upon discovering the cure is true love's kiss. Picks you up from his lap and kisses your nose. You turn back still in his arms. He's going to smirk and put you down on his lap again. You'll have to stay there for a while because he's not going to let you go.

Mammon

He's confused at first. He probably went looking for you only to find a cat where he thought you would be. As soon as it clicks that you are the cat, he panics. Freaks right out, scooping you up into his arms and running around the house to find any brother who can help him turn you back.

MC! MC, can ya hear him?! You better meow or something so he knows you're okay. He'll calm down eventually, especially when everybody starts trying to find the cure. He'll sit down with you, but the worry will be evident in his expression. Make him feel better by kneading at him and purring. Butt your head into him to demand pets. Your cuteness will be enough to get him to settle down.

The others are probably the ones who figure out what's going on. Not that he couldn't, just that he's too busy stressing out about you. If you're a cat for a while, you become his bag cat - kinda like those tiny purse dogs. He's gonna keep you with him all the time and that includes RAD. So into the book bag you go!

Someone finally tells him that the only way to bring you back is true love's kiss. If he thinks about this too much, he gets too flustered to even try it. Does it mean that it has to be your true love? Or is it enough that you're his true love? Forces himself not to think about that too much. It doesn't matter, as long as you're back to normal! Kisses your fuzzy head. Melts in relief when you change back. He's more traumatized by this experience than you are. Please hold him for a while.

Leviathan

Doesn't realize it's you at first. Most likely you are the one who came looking for him and now he's just worried about this random cat that got into the House of Lamentation. What if it tries to eat Henry 2.0? Might try to shoo you out of his room. You might have to do something like use his computer to type out a message to let him know that it's actually you. If you do this, he might just think you're an amazingly smart cat until he reads the message. Then he's like ohhhh wow okay duh.

He's going to apologize for not recognizing you. But then he's going get a little nervous about the fact that you are a cat?! How did this happen? How does he change you back? Oh, but MC, you are a really cute cat. If you stay a cat for a little while, he's going to make cat cosplay outfits for you. Famous anime cat? That's you now.

Won't let you leave his room. Too protective of you and he doesn't want you to get lost or hurt. Doesn't go back to RAD so he can make sure you stay safe. If you really want to watch him get all flustered, curl up in his lap and start purring while he's playing video games.

After much online research, Levi figures out that the only thing that will bring you back is true love's kiss. His first thought is to bring you to Lucifer so you might have to meow in protest until he realizes what you want. He's going to be blushing like crazy, but he'll force himself to kiss your cute kitty cheek. When you're back to normal, go ahead and kiss him again.

Satan

The instant he sees you, you're in his arms and he's taking you to his room. The House of Lamentation has a strict no cats rule and he doesn't want Lucifer to see you. Doesn't realize it's you until he gets you in his room and actually looks at you more closely. Satan is pretty observant and he's a smart demon, so he puts it all together pretty quickly.

Blushes because he's embarrassed by how cute he thinks you are. MC. He's sure you want to be back to your usual self. But he would like you stay a cat for a little while. Won't you indulge him? You can express how you feel about this by either purring or hissing. If you purr at him, he's going to keep you in his room and pamper you. If you hiss, though, he's going to get to work on finding out how to fix you.

Won't let anyone else in the House of Lamentation know what's going on. Keeps you hidden in his room the entire time you're in cat form. Tells his brothers that you went to the human world for a few days. Comes up with some bizarre reason for this. Like you need to bathe in human world rain for three days or else you get really sick, that's just a fact. Didn't they know that about humans? Gets Solomon to back him up because everyone is suspicious of this.

Since Solomon now also knows the truth, Satan gets him to help with research into the cure. Eventually they figure out it's true love's kiss that will do it. He's a little sad that you'll no longer be a cat. He takes a lot of pictures of you so he can remember this forever. But in the end, Satan does want you back to normal. He kisses your head. When you're back to your usual self, you get to decide if you get annoyed with him for making up that bogus story about humans. Either way, you end up kissing him again.

Asmodeus

MC, darling. Did you know you are a cat currently? Meow. Ah, so you are aware. Did you need him to help you with that? Meoow! Don't worry, Asmo's got this! But hang on, first let him brush out your fur, it's looking a little matted. And you know, while he's at it, why doesn't he add some cute little bows behind your sweet little ears? You know, your claws look like they need a trim, let him take care of that. He can paint them, too!

You end up in adorable kitty clothes. You can't complain really because you look fabulous. And being brushed feels good, so you can't help but purr in his lap while he does it. You might have to meow in protest eventually, though, so that he remembers that he needs to help you get back to normal.

Shows you off to everyone in the house. Gets angry at anyone who messes up your look. Gives you a new outfit every day that you're in cat form. Has you do a little cat fashion show, takes a bunch of pictures and videos. Can't stop himself from posting a video of you on Devilgram with some kind of cat walk pun as the caption.

He actually knew how to fix this from the start. He's heard of this particular curse before. And anyway, everyone knows that true love's kiss is a pretty standard curse breaker. He sits cross legged on his bed with you, holding you carefully in his arms. Then he kisses your head sweetly. You change back to your usual self, half sitting in his lap, half laying against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, letting you know that he prefers you in this form, after all.

Beelzebub

Doesn't recognize you at first. Thinks you must be a stray that Satan tried to sneak into the house behind Lucifer's back. He doesn't want to get involved in that. Might just turn right around and walk away, pretending he didn't see anything. Get his attention by stealing his snacks. Now you're a problem he can't ignore. Get him to chase you to your own room and start meowing at him. He's going to realize your room is empty at which point he figures it out.

He picks you up gently. Due to his height and size, you find this is actually better than being on the ground. Climb up onto his shoulder and perch there so you can see the world at more human-like height. He's content to let you stay there as long as you like as long as you don't get cat hair in his food. Likes to listen to you purr in his ear.

He's probably going to need some assistance figuring out how to bring you back to normal. Goes around asking everybody. Won't let them near you, though. You're clinging to his shirt with your claws, anyway. If he tried to dislodge you, he'd end up with many little holes in the shoulder.

Upon being told the remedy is true love's kiss, Beel takes you into the kitchen. You allow him to remove you from his shoulder and he puts you on the counter. Then he kisses your furry head. You return to your usual form, sitting on the kitchen counter. You might be a little disoriented at first, but he's there to hold onto you while you reorient yourself. He has a slight blush on his cheeks. He's glad your back, MC. Please be more careful. Kiss him for real to make him feel better.

Belphegor

Wakes up to find you snoozing on his head, curled up in a little fluffy ball. Just like Beel, he thinks you're one of Satan's strays at first. But then when you wake up and yawn, he knows it's you. He'd recognize your yawn anywhere. He's amazed that it's the same even when you're in cat form. But he's also going to sigh about the fact that you've somehow managed to turn yourself into a cat. Really, MC? How did you even do this?

Don't worry. He's lazy, but he cares too much about you to let you stay like this. You're certainly still an excellent napping buddy in cat form, but there's just something missing. He gets really protective of you, holding you in his arms the whole time. Never lets anyone else touch you. Makes everyone else figure out how to turn you back. He's too busy taking care of you to do it.

Of course that involves quite a bit of napping. Didn't you know that cats sleep for fifteen hours a day? He has to make sure you're getting the rest you need. You get to decide if you try to keep him awake or if you give in and curl up beside him. If you do sleep with him, all you've got to do is purr a little bit and Belphie will be so content he'll fall asleep before you do.

When he finds out that it's true love's kiss that will bring you back, he decides to take one last nap with you in cat form. It's when you're curled up beside him fast asleep that he kisses your whiskered cheek. When you wake up, you're back in human form and Belphie's arms are around you. He's out cold and you have no idea how long you've been back to normal. You can wake him up or you can snuggle closer to him and go back to sleep.

masterlist | part 2 with the side characters | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfiction #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #request #misc writes

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masterqwertster · 4 months

Text

A difference between Ashton absorbing the Spark and Fearne absorbing the Spark that I haven't seen discussed is that Fearne had the ability to ripcord out until the end of the 6th round/start of the 7th round while Ashton only had to the end of the 1st round.

Now by "ripcord out," I mean they could have halted the absorption process by either removing the Quintessence Array or potentially pulling the Spark out of the Array's funnel. Essentially, the Spark's crystal vessel had to still exist and be a separate receptacle, much like how the Quintessence Array cannot fully transfer a creature's magical essence without proper absorption time.

For Ashton, the Spark's crystal crumpled to nothing by the end of the first round via CON Saves (Ashton's early rounds were weird in that Matt rolled multiple damages against him instead of just one, especially the second CON Save round). All they had were those initial moments where it didn't seem impossible, didn't seem like anything they couldn't handle, to back out. 36 Damage and unaware they had to go for 9 more rounds where one pulse of Damage could do up to 60 Damage.

Fearne, on the other hand, besides having a much gentler time of it with zero CON Saves and able to use her own magic to help keep herself up from lower Damage rolls, had until the end of the sixth round or the start of the seventh round before the second Spark crystal finished crumpling into nothing. She had time to assess if it would be too much for her to finish, time to say "No, this was a bad idea. I don't want it."

I'm sure part of that difference is Ashton jumped in on a bad idea and was being forced to deal with the Consequences while Fearne's was a much more measured decision and the "safe" route. You know, game mechanics and penalties.

But consider it narratively.

The way I read it, one of two things happened: Ashton's body is so attuned/ready to be a vessel of great powers that it just slorped the Spark right up, no hesitation. Or, Rau'shan was so eager to move in with his old partner, that he jumped right in (and later backed out because it was too crowded to be tenable). And honestly? Both have interesting implications.

If Ashton is just a higher power absorbing machine, that can mean some interesting things for how he ended up with the Shard of Ka'Mort. Like that the Hishari ritual wasn't meant to bestow the Shard to anyone, but through whatever fuck up happened, Ashton chomped it up. Or that it was about bestowing, but Ashton was such a better vessel that it fucked up the ritual. And the Potion of Possibility giving them a half-beacon brain just happened. There's no explanation as to why it didn't just give him a Mote of Possibility to essentially reroll a Death Save into stabilizing himself rather than die, which makes sense with what the Potion does. Instead it made Ashton a permanent well of dunamis. Maybe that happened because Ashton is titan-blooded. Maybe it's because they are uniquely suited to being a vessel of great powers, that they possess a body hungry to hold more power.

On the other hand, if Rau'shan wanted in to reunite with Ka'Mort with all haste, that makes Ashton his first choice of vessel. Then Rau'shan backed out because three's a crowd and a quality vessel does no one any good if it breaks trying to use that power (because Ashton did manage to contain it all). And maybe he goes a little slower when a second vessel attempts to hold his Spark, just to make sure she's not going to blow up on him.

Or even Fearne just doesn't have the same draw for the Spark as Ashton, so it crumbled at the rate the Quintessence Array drained it at instead of being sucked straight through to it's new home.

I'm just saying, it's a very interesting difference that didn't need to exist to show how much easier absorbing the Spark is for not-Ashton.

#MQ blathers #critical role #cr meta #c3e77 #c3e80 #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway

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adrift-in-thyme · 24 days

Text

@uncleskyrule happy belated birthday!!! Thank you so much for your patience while I wrote this! I hope it's worth the wait!

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

Four knows what sleep deprivation looks like.

He’s seen it spelled out on his grandfather’s face when long days turn his usual joviality to melancholy exhaustion and draws the shadows of half moons beneath his eyes.

He’s seen it painted across Dot’s beautiful features after an arduous night when the memories resurface, memories of a leering crimson eye, of claims to possession hanging heavy over her, of cages and darkness and smothering magic.

He’s seen it shadowed across his own face too, when the battles within and without grow to be too much, darkening his features, drawing them thin, sucking the youthful fat from his cheeks, the light from his eyes.

And he’s seen it…on the faces of his brothers.

On Time’s when the moon is full. On Twilight’s when a quiet twilight falls and skeletal trees whisper in tongues known only to some. On Wild’s when the amnesia recedes, Warriors’ when phantom lips press across his cheek, Wind’s after he awakens screaming his sister’s name. On Hyrule’s when he gives too much, Legend’s when the adventures he never speaks of tell their tale in his petrified cries at night…

And now on, Sky’s.

Some may find it strange for a man who can drift off practically anywhere to suffer from fatigue. Add to that uncanny ability, Sky’s penchant for seeming one of the most mature of their little group, the most…put together.

But Four is well acquainted with the deceptions someone can tell through demeanor alone. He himself has been dubbed mature, put together, responsible. And while, yes, those labels are true (Four would certainly be cross if people decided to start dubbing him childish or, Hylia forbid, a disaster as they call some more unruly children in his Hyrule), the lie rests in the assumptions they bring about.

Beliefs of invincibility and impervious spirit. Beliefs that there is no need to be gentle or kind, no need to offer respite or lighten the load.

It is the same fate their leader suffers so often, the same Warriors and Twilight sometimes crumble beneath. Suffering silently, yet always strong. So strong.

And Sky…

Sky hides it better than anyone.

Four is uncertain whether or not he is the only one who notices his distress. Perhaps, he is.

It doesn’t matter though. In fact, if he is the only one who has taken note of it then it is all the more important that he do something before Sky’s inevitable collapse.

But life never makes things simple. And in the end, he’s too late.

It has happened too many times now — a portal that separates the heroes into mismatched groups. Four thinks that perhaps, after his near defeat at the combined hands of the champion and the rancher the Shadow is attempting to be more careful.

More conniving. More vicious.

Attack first and you won’t be defeated. Such is the attitude of wild animals and beasts. More than likely, the Shadow shares it too.

This would explain why in addition to splitting the heroes up, this portal also dumps them right onto a battlefield.

Or at least, it does for Sky, Legend, and himself. Four can’t be sure what the others are facing. But he can only pray it isn’t a sand-drenched dungeon packed with redeads and stalfos.

The unearthly screeches of the emaciated corpses fill his ears as he fights, teeth gritted, heart pounding. It’s all the three heroes can do to stay out of reach of their paralyzing cries.

Back up to escape one beast and you nearly collide with the mad swing of a stalfos’ claymore.

Four winces as the very tip of a blade slices across his left arm and leaves an angry gash in its wake.

That’s going to need a bit of potion to remedy.

Beside him, Legend growls what sounds like a curse as he plunges his hand into his pouch and retrieves a fire rod. He brings it in a sweeping horizontal arc. In a blaze of blistering heat, a group of the monsters fall.

“Well done,” Four says with a breathless smirk. He plunges his sword into the gaping chest cavity of one of the stalfos still struggling for survival on the darkened floorboards. With a raspy exhale, it dissolves into ash. “I think you just turned the battle in our favor.”

“I’d better have,” Legend huffs. “The sooner we get rid of these things, the sooner we can get out of here.” He screws up his face in a grimace. More monsters crumple beneath his skilled hands. “It smells like death.”

It does, indeed, Four thinks as, finally, the last of the monsters fall. The stench of it hangs heavy, permeating the thick darkness that surrounds them, wafting from the thin threads of light carrying from faltering torches.

But now that the battle is over they can focus on escape. Hopefully, to a place where it proves easier to breathe.

He sheathes his sword, glances around. The gash on his arm throbs and the various bruises and smaller cuts he earned join in its stomach-churning beat. Still, it could have gone far worse.

“We all okay?” Legend asks, bangs falling into his face as he replaces his fire rod.

“Yes,” Four says. “How about you…Sky?”

His voice pitches an octave higher as he catches sight of the Skyloftian, turning the question almost into an exclamation.

The knight lies crumpled where he had stood mere moments before. The Master Sword lies fallen beside him, his cape flows over him like a blanket of snow. His breath comes in shuddering gasps that grate upon Four’s ears as he races to his side.

“Sky!”

He shakes him, slightly, and hazy blue orbs flutter open. Sky groans.

“What happened?” Legend drops down beside him, panic in his voice and a half-empty potion bottle in his hand. “Did a monster get him?”

Four shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” A quick inspection provides no sign of blood or other injury. But Sky’s face is ashen and he shudders as though in the throes of fever. “Sky, are you hurt?”

“N-not hurt.” Sky curls his fingers into a fist, as though attempting to gather strength. “J-just…just…” He swallows, tries to drag himself up, and nearly collapses again. It’s only Four and Legend’s quick movement that keeps him upright. “‘M fine.”

“Like hell you are!” Legend’s eyes are blazing with emotion now. “Sky, what happened?”

Sky shudders again. He glances down at the trembling hands he has folded into one, white-knuckled fist. There is a certain helplessness in the look.

“I dunno,” he croaks. “Was fighting and the room start-started swirling.” He curls in on himself further, and Four wonders if the next shaky exhale brings tears with it. His voice is very small. “I just-just fell.”

“And you didn’t have the strength to get back up,” Four says, solemnly. An idea is already forming in his head, a confirmation of what he has witnessed these past few hellish weeks.

I should’ve acted sooner.

But there had been fights both in and out of the group, and injuries and secrets unveiled. There had been discussions long overdue, restorations to be made in the face of pain and sorrow. And he, he had been in the midst of it all.

Between explaining the Four Sword and its powers and making up with Wild, he just hadn’t found the time…

“You haven’t been sleeping, Sky…have you?”

Now, Sky raises his head, glazed eyes focusing unsteadily on Four. Slowly, he shakes his head.

Legend blows out a sigh. He sits down beside Four and brings a dusty hand over his sweaty brow.

“Sleep deprivation? Yeah, that’ll do it. How long haven’t you been sleeping?”

Sky swallows. A beat passes, then another. The oppressive feel of death begins to crowd in on Four again. He struggles to breathe beneath it.

Then, “Since Twilight,” Sky whispers, and Four’s heart plummets to the depths of his stomach.

Legend’s hand falls to his lap with more viciousness than defeat. His face screws up in an expression that toes the line between sorrowful and intensely irritated. “I knew something was up! I knew it! I should’ve — ”

“Couldn’t have done anything,” Sky croaks, leaning further into Four’s touch. A small smile quirks his lips. “Was me that should-should’ve d-done something in the…in the first place.”

Legend’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

Sky looks back down at his hands.

Another theory is beginning to form in Four’s mind now, joining with the previous one, enlarging it, and embellishing it until things start to make sense. A theory born out of something Sky has said before, a snippet he had overheard and tossed aside in favor of giving his full attention to fighting the Yiga that had taken Wild captive.

“I’m sorry, champion,” the Skyloftian had said as he had helped Warriors tend to the boy’s wounds. “I was late…again. I’m sorry.”

“You blame yourself.” Four measures the words carefully, speaking each one with intricate precision. Lest he step in the wrong place and cause them all to plummet. “You blame yourself for what happened to Twilight.”

Sky lifts his bloodshot eyes. A tear wells in one of them then spills over to slither gracefully down his cheek.

“Why would you blame yourself?” Legend asks, even as comprehension burns in his violet irises. “It’s not your fault the rancher got hit. You weren’t even near him when it happened!”

“I was near enough.” Sky’s voice is quieter than ever now, more like a whisper than anything else. “I know the skyward strike. I could’ve hit that…that thing if I’d been…b-been faster.” His breath hitches. But to Four it sounds defeated more than panicked. “I was late and he paid for it. I’m a-always…”

He curls in on himself, weighed down by exhaustion, shuddering with pain and sorrow. Legend looks at Four and Four looks at Legend. Then, slowly, together they reach out and draw Sky into their arms.

It’s strange. Four hadn’t taken Legend for someone willing to show physical affection freely. But he embraces the Skyloftian as though it is no price to pay. As though he has done so before.

Long nights. A shuddering sob. Soft feet dressed in boots with wings adorning their sides. Whispers in the dark that exhaustion muddles before Four can make them out. Amethyst eyes staring from over a hazy cloud of silken white. Sliding shut as a larger form huddles deeper into an embrace.

Sky shivers again and Legend holds him tighter.

“It’s not your fault,” Four murmurs, pouring every ounce of confidence he possesses into those words and praying that it is enough. “It’s not your fault, Sky. You did everything you could do for him. There’s nothing else you could have done.”

Sky doesn’t reply.

They hold him, whispering assurances, as his tears wet their tunics and his fatigued body quakes beneath the burden he forces it to carry. They hold him until, at last, in the murky darkness, surrounded by carcasses of monsters and piles of resting sand, he drifts off.

In the arms of his brothers.

#trin writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu sky #lu legend #lu four #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #angst

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adrianasunderworld · 2 years

Text

The usual “Mc gets turned into a small child through some magical mishap.” But instead of jumping into the typical cute tomfoolery, Mc does not remember anything past age five, who these people are, or where they are and why, and they are terrified. Mc is looking around the alchemy classroom, all these strange people are staring down at them, and they start bawling their eyes out.

Their friends try to comfort them, but nothing works. Floyd gets the bright idea to pick Mc up, because kids love being picked up, right?! “Come on, Shrimpy, no need for that!” But all little Mc sees is this big dude with needle sharp teeth and they start screaming and thrashing in his arms. Crewel has to take little Mc away from Floyd and try's to get them to calm down in vain.

“I WANT MY MOMMY!” They keep sobbing at the top of their lungs. (Or daddy, grandma, brother, whatever best suits your Mc.) It gets to the point where Crewel has to put a calming spell on them and they doze off almost immediately, because absolutely nothing they said or did worked. According to him, the effects of the potions will wear off on their own, but that takes a few days.

As the rest of the week goes on, little Mc is passed around from staff member to staff member so they don't distract, or get scared again, by the students. Usually they will be sitting coloring in Crowleys office, or in the back room of Sams shop playing with some toys he had in stock. But even so, that doesn’t stop any of their friends from trying to see Mc. Grim is the first one to get close again to Mc. Crewel explained very calmy that this...cat was their friend, and it was a magic cat that could talk, so don't freak out. Mc thought it was like in their shows back home. Like Jiji from Kikis Delivery Service. So they were okay with Grim despite the initial surprise. Their more human friends, like the Heartsybul and Scarabia gang were not that hard to get used too. Especially when Trey brought cookies, and Kalim being Kalim.

The issue arose when the students with not so human features got involved. Mc absolutely refused to go near Floyd, and by extension Jade. The one time Idia left his room, he ran into little Mc who was left to play in the courtyard under Silvers watch. (He had fallen asleep, but his woodland friends had taken over.) Idia, to his credit, had heard how scared little Mc was of everything and tried not to be spotted. But sadly he was. They both stood frozen in wide eyed horror staring at one another. Silver woke up and found the odd sight, it would have almost been funny if both of them didn’t look like they were about to cry. Mc hid behind Silver and Idia bolted.

Jack wasn’t going to hold it against Mc if they were wary of him, at the moment he was a stranger to them after all. But Ace, Deuce, and Grim made a big show of how Jack was their friend, and look how fluffy his ears and tail are! Mc at this point was more curious then scared, and asked nicely if they could pet his tail. When Jack gave the ok, Mc wasted no time in petting it. Jack tail started to wag, and Mc laughed from his tail floof hitting them in the face. It kinda remined Jack of playing with his little siblings. Leona absolutely avoided Mc, he wanted no part in any of this. So of course, Ruggie told Mc there was a grumpy lion man around here that needed some cheering up. Then set them loose in the dorm. Cheka 2.0.

Lillia had taken to looking after Mc. This wasn’t his first rodeo. Despite the fact he looks like a vampire, he befriended tiny Mc relatively quickly. He is, after all, a parent himself and knew how to calm down a crying child. Mc picked up his paternal vibes and now they're besties. Lilia loves to coo at the Diasmonia boys, “Oh this takes me back. I remember you all were this small.” They have to hide Mc at snack time though

“Uncle Lilia is going to go make you some mac and cheese!” he exclaimed before leaving.

Silver scooped up Mc and ran for it.

“But I want Mac and cheese!”

“Trust me, no you don’t.”

Malleus, like Jack, wouldn't hold it against Mc if they were afraid of him. But part of him really didn't want to find out if that was the case. Sure normal Mc wasn't scared of him, but he didn't really want to see five year old them sobbing at his presence like they had with some of the other students. Lilia had prepared for this though. "See that tall horned fellow over there? He really wants to be your friend. He doesn't get invited out to play very often and it make him sad. So I think it would be very nice if you invited him."

Mc wasn't very sure, but if Lilia said it, it had to be the case, right? So Mc took whatever toys they had been playing with and cautiously walked up to him. "Um...excuse Mr. Malleus sir. Um...do you want to play with me?" They held out the toy him and Malleus was surprised, but gladly accepted.

When Mc finally turned back to normal, everyone was so relieved. For one they didn’t have to feel like they were walking on eggshells around them anymore, and they no longer had to babysit. Mcs memories of the past several days were hazy at best. But the sight of Floyd scooping them up and seeing row of sharp teeth was vividly familiar. “Were you bored without me, Floyd?”

“You were no fun small, Shrimpy.”

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idk i was a cry baby as a kid #if i was reverted to my child self around them i would have just sobbed

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life-of-eris · 3 months

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For all that the hype led me to believe Palworld was about Pokemon with slavery and guns or whatever, mechanically, it actually does a better job incentivising me to take care of my critters than pokemon ever has? Like, if I want my magic deer to gather wood for me, I need to make sure they have a comfy bed and a place to relax, and always have food available for them. If they pass out in battle it's a huge pain in the ass because you can't just pump them full of potions to keep them up forever, so it actually pays to be strategic and nope the hell out sometimes. For all the edgey paldex entries or whatever, there's really NO good reason to run a pal sweatshop. Give them a little berry farm and a nice hot spring and they seem happy to work? Which, like, relatable, me too buds, I also like feeling useful and productive

#palworld

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ma1dita · 8 months

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liar, liar

part two cn be found here-> truth be told

words: little under 2k

summary: sirius black is a good liar. spot how many times sirius lies in this fic.

warnings: slight nondescript smut!! errr cursing & another self-deprecating marauder, mostly unrequited love/being led on, sirius’s trauma response, fem!reader is too good for sirius, fem!reader has ‘i can fix him’ complex

a/n: guys… i thought of this prompt and the necklace Alex Russo wore in WoWP and suddenly, complex by katie gregson-macleod started playing so…sorry if this gets sadder.

(posted 9/8/23 & edited 11/6/23)

—

At the very core of him, Sirius Black is a liar.

It’s not directly his fault, but a subliminal result of the loveless household he grew up in. Lies roll off his experienced tongue more naturally than when he’s ever tried to say I love you. So he’s convinced himself that it’s easier to live life this way, without love. If love ever fell into his hands, he’s not quite sure what he’d do with it.

If Sirius Black could be defined, he thinks it would lack the word love and instead encompass a lot of his anger. Fiery, palpable anger, deep set in his core. That’s what he is. There are a lot of things to be angry about in this life, after all.

—

You’re 16 and this birthday party might’ve been your best idea yet. Your friends are dotted around your dorm room, along with some people you’ve invited from your classes. Among the forming crowd, you spot one Sirius Black. You don’t talk much outside of being Potions partners, and you get by with smiles in the halls and friendly touches. He’s looking at you from across the room like he knows you intimately, but that is far from the truth. Sirius Black is an enigma if anything, but what’s more unusual to you even after three shots of firewhiskey is the fact that he doesn't have any of his friends in tow. He meanders around the open space before circling back towards your direction as if that wasn’t his plan in the first place.

“Trouble in paradise?” you joke, gesturing to the space his posse would usually occupy behind him. He scoffs, avoiding the question, giving you a proper kiss on the cheek instead as he loops his arms around your waist. It piques your interest; you’ve always loved a challenge.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

Sirius is handing you a small jewelry box, and you look at him dumbfounded. You’re barely even friends.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Black. I just called you over to get drunk with me and my mates.” You giggle, cheeks red from the alcohol.

It’s a necklace. A magical, really expensive one. Sirius is gauging your reaction, scratching the back of his neck. It’s easy to put a price to something rather than show you all of his cards.

“Well, aren't I special? This is too much, Black. I shouldn’t…” Your soft hands are pushing the box into his impenetrable wall of a chest as you shake your head in disbelief. No one’s ever gotten you something this nice or expensive before. You wonder if he does this to all the other girls that fawn over him.

“It’s nothing. I insist. You keep me distracted in Slughorn’s class and for that, you get a prize just as pretty as you.” He’s holding your wrists now, rubbing them casually like this isn’t the most intimate encounter you’ve had with him yet. Somehow you can sense that he needs this more than you do. To be needed. He doesn’t want to tell you that you’re the only one making him smile nowadays since his friends haven’t talked to him in weeks. You indulge in this behavior, because it’s new and exciting, and who would say no to Sirius Black?

The party ends much later after you tease him until his wit’s end, and then it’s your whispered approval that moves him to move his body over yours, the rest of your clothes quickly flying off in his pursuit to become a part of you. Physically and metaphorically, his being overtakes you quickly. Deep into the night, when he’s fucking you into your mattress, the necklace he gave you swings back and forth against your chest with every thrust of his hips, every bump of the headboard against the wall thumping the final nails into the coffin. You can’t help but feel special as he lays kisses on your spine. You know this isn’t intimacy in Sirius’ world though. This isn’t love, it’s bodies yearning for connection, to find something meaningful. To string the words to define how to pass the time. You hope he finds what he’s looking for between your sheets and as he breathes into your hair.

Sirius is angry at the world and he’s chosen you to be his target. What color on your necklace can define the fact you wanted him to fuck you brainless anyways? What can accurately portray the shaking of his hands as he slaps the fat of your thighs? Both of you don’t remember, but all he knows is your naked bosom is glowing amber as you pant, and it looks and feels like you’re on fire. Lust has a way of consuming the body, both of you moving until you cannot anymore, anatomy animated by the need for touch.

He needed this, a distraction. And you just wanted a crazy story to tell. You keep note of the fact that Sirius likes it when you moan his name, and he makes it his mission for you to scream the name he grew up hating because it sounds pretty coming from your mouth. Because here in this room, it means something other than disappointment.

“Oh my god, baby, right there!”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your baby.” he pants, pulling your hair roughly as he jackhammers into you. No pet names or endearments are allowed. Just Sirius, and he’ll correct you if you get it wrong. By the end of it, you’re slurring your words and screaming nonsense anyway. You think nothing of it.

He wants you as much as you’ll have him, which, when you’re 16, you think can be made a priority just to keep his eyes on you. Everyone wants a piece of Sirius Orion Black. And your hands are stretched out in hopes of partaking in this transaction of physicality and sin. Weeks later, after you seemingly fall asleep in the boys’ dorm, James asks Sirius if you’re his girlfriend. “She’s…alright,” he mumbles into the air. They’ve finally forgiven him for The Prank after your urges to get Sirius to swallow his ego. He never got to thank you for it. Gratitudes and endearments were a rarity at Grimmauld Place.

Peter whispers in the dark of their dorm and asks Sirius if he could ever fall in love with you. With your eyes closed and your head lying against his chest, you feel him shrug as he traces a hickey he left on your collarbone. What is love to Sirius Black? He’s looking at your chest glow red, and his hand clutches the pendant in his fist, trying to dim its light. You go to sleep instead. The incandescent glow of the pendant seeps beneath your eyelids.

—

You’re 19 and sometimes you wonder if it’d be easier to be dead. Good days are a relief for all to have, presenting themselves as scarce and far apart in your new normal. There’s a war going on and you think it’s criminal to consider yourself adult enough to fight in it, but you and your friends–and your boyfriend do. You sleep in Sirius’ apartment more than your own now, but he never calls you his girlfriend, he just calls you his, and you convince yourself to not worry so much about it because death itself is coming for everyone you know. You’re together, and that’s what matters, right? There are bigger problems at hand.

Between Auror missions, Sirius has a bad habit of picking fights with you in front of your friends, which now include his friends. A lot of you comes from him, which you don’t resent. They’re lovely, but they see through the struggle. They know him too well, and you go to every gathering with an inkling that they know how mean Sirius can truly be. Old habits die hard. Tonight he yells at you because you won’t let him get a fifth beer.

“Always thinking you know better than me, (Y/N). You’re not my fucking wife, so I don’t need to listen to you! No one wants to hang around a killjoy.”

He wrenches his grip from your thigh, nearly toppling your chair over to stomp over to the bar himself. Everyone stares at you, waiting for you to react before they judge. Before they defend their friend. His behavior has been erratic lately with his world crumbling as he knows it. But then again, Sirius has never known life without chaos.

“I know it’s not… ideal. But he’s a good guy. We’re all just going through shit right now. His brother’s missing, so I’m there when he needs me.” Which is always, you omit from your response. You don’t mind being needed though. Helping him fight his demons is a part of being in a relationship with someone so damaged. You bring him light when his mind darkens. That is not transactional. It’s something deeper, though the words dissipate before either of you can utter it at night.

Lily reaches over the table to hold your hand, with Remus pulling his arm around the back of your chair, and rubbing your shoulder. Your chest is still glowing red, your love for him triumphing over any embarrassment he’s caused you. How you feel has always been clear, evident on your chest. What a weakness to have, to lay yourself bare to him and you wonder if Sirius did it on purpose.

He gets piss drunk as you expected and you have to side-apparate him home while you insist to everyone else that they should stay and have fun. They’re not as easily convinced, but you bid them farewell anyway. You get to the apartment and Sirius mumbles a ‘thank you’ as you help him take his clothes off and you gently tuck him under the covers, kissing him goodnight. Small moments like these are tender. They say more than anything you could put into words.

Moments later, you pretend to not hear Sirius cry, but his chest is heaving and the sound coming from his throat is so gut-wrenching that you lift yourself out from under him where he was weeping into your shoulder. In the dark, your eyes adjust to find his face in the moonlight.

“Sirius?” you breathe, fingers ghosting over the tears on his face.

“He’s dead.” he whimpers. You’ve never seen Sirius Black let himself be vulnerable like this. Not to the Marauders, and especially not to you. There’s no carnal aspect in sorrow, though it leaves one gutted, worn down to the bone.

“My baby brother is dead, and no one knows. I don’t even have a body to mourn over.”

He chokes back a sob, and you let his arms shroud your body, leaving the red glow of your pendant trapped between both of your ribs. You hope some of the light and some of your love seeps into him. You have plenty to give, and it’s all his for the taking, if only he’d let you.

Sirius falls asleep hours later, and you’re pinned to the bed underneath him. There’s a crick in your trapezius that you try to ignore as you stroke his hair. Maybe in his dreamless state he can find peace. You close your eyes and wonder if Regulus has found solace in death. Maybe it would feel something like this.

—

You’re 21 and most of your good friends are dead or in hiding. It’s the night before Halloween, but there’s not a lot to celebrate if real life is much scarier now.

Over the years, Sirius and you have come to an understanding. He’s flawed, with a viciously large ego and oftentimes he’s mean when he doesn’t know how to react. But he’s human. He tries now, more than ever to quell the anger born in the Black name. He tries to be gentle, though the instinct to hurt is in his blood. You’re patient, and resilient enough to take the blows, knowing what you feel is deeper than his anger, often revealing itself as his darkest fears. You like him ‘because’ and love him ‘despite’. Your cue to comfort him is usually right before he gets the look on his face that tells you he’ll say something knowing it’ll make you cry. You’ve always loved him, but now you know why. Sirius wonders every day how you’re still with him. He’s a runner, but since the day you’ve met him, you haven’t quite let go of his hand.

Usually instead of an apology, he’ll usually fuck you to oblivion, making sure your legs shake and your brain is jumbled enough to not talk about the hurt he causes you. He strokes the fire in you, and the feeling of anger that continually wracks his being can only be satiated by your touch. His skin on yours is the best place to be, but maybe there’s a part of you that likes the hurt, his anger. It's almost passionate, the only emotion he knows how to express well. You love him in a way that only you can, despite all of that. But it all blurs when he kisses you, consumes you. You especially like it when he pulls your hair.

You shriek as you come down from a release, hands rubbing the expanse of his chest. His thrusts slow as he grapples with reality, pawing at your breasts. Your hips milk him for his worth, and he groans lowly.

“You’re too good to me, wife. You’re all mine.”

Your ministrations come to a stop as you look down at him, pendant hanging between your faces. Nicknames were a growing commodity lately.

“Wife, huh…”

The air is heavy between you two, still connected as one while you wait for his response. Let him take the lead, as it’s the role he’s more accustomed to.

“If that’s okay.” he breathes, not knowing what to do with his hands. Love has fallen into his hands, and her physical form is sitting in his lap. His grip eases as he accepts you wholly.

“Maybe someday soon.”

A slow smile stretches across your face.

“Ask me properly and I’ll consider.” But the glow of your necklace is more vibrant now, and you two both know your answer as he grabs your waist and pulls you down for another round.

Sirius tries to sneak out of bed in the early morning as you doze off. You wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, bare feet padding across your shared apartment in search of him until you see him dressed in the kitchen and holding a letter.

“I have to go… deal with some business,” he mutters, not stepping away from the window nor sparing you a glance. Lying to someone he loves is harder than he thought it would be.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” You’re standing in the doorway wearing his shirt and his boxers. He likes it when you say his name. You could call him anything you want and he’d come running.

“James and Lily, they’re in trouble. I’ll be back by morning.”

You turn to grab your wand, planning to go with him, but he’s suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you into a kiss, stopping your advances. He has something to lose now. You’re his, and he’ll be damned to let you follow him blindly into danger.

“You have to stay here. Everything will be okay,” he says, holding your chin. The lie sits heavy on his tongue. Maybe if he focuses he’ll see the rose-tinted hue of your irises every time he shuts his eyes.

“You’re scaring me...” You look at him in apprehension, his movements erratic and you wonder if he’s cracked and needs an exorcism. Then your heart is thundering in your chest and the red glow turns ice blue. A new feeling has taken a larger form than your love, and its fear. Briefly, you wonder how Sirius lives on edge like this. Something is dangerously wrong. He looks into your eyes, and then the cold glow on your chest. He takes a slow step back away from you, looking almost apologetic.

“Sirius Black, don’t you fucking dare.”

“I love you.”

He’s apparated and long gone before you register what he said. It sounded unfamiliar coming from his mouth, but you weren’t surprised. It was something you’ve always known. You just didn’t think that hearing it would hurt this badly.

—

The doors of the dreary prison cell screech shut in Azkaban. Visiting hours are over, and Sirius hadn’t left his space the whole two hours you waited outside in hopes of seeing him.

Tossing the lunch you packed into the bin as you push through the exit door for the last time, you think that killing him would’ve been easier than this, but he is not the victim in this story. You at least hope he got your package, as you think that maybe you could find a different adventure now, one that doesn’t involve having your feelings splayed across your chest for a murderer to come in and kill you dead. What a fool, to know someone so intimately, so innately, and for him to be a killer.

The envelope is slid under his cell door, and he opens it slowly. The necklace. Sirius sighs, and he wonders if you’ll finally let him go. It’s what you deserve anyway, now that he’ll rot in here for the rest of his life for a crime he didn’t commit. He’s hurt you enough that even if he did tell you everything, there’s a chance you wouldn’t believe him. No one does, after all. The cool silver of the chain makes goosebumps rise on the back of his neck as he slips it on. Red.

With all the time in the world to think, he realizes that he can easily be defined by the sound of your voice calling his name. He’s called many things now besides a liar; a murderer, a deranged madman, a traitor. The only definition of himself he prefers now is one where he is described to be loving you. There are a lot of things to love about you, after all. He spends days, weeks, months, years, keeping track. He finds new ones every time he closes his eyes.

But Sirius Black is first and foremost a liar, and if there’s anything he’s sure of, is that he’s damn good at it.

—

“You say you love rain

but you open your umbrella.

You say you love the sun

but you find a shadow spot.

You say you love wind

but you close your windows.

This is why I am afraid

when you say you love me.”

William Shakespeare

love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing: complex by katie gregson-macleod