#i am once again running out of things to say

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART I

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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.5k || ao3 || Part II -> coming soon! || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab masterlist ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader if you squint, biting, blood, marking, eventual forced bathing in later parts, eventual forced feeding in later parts, eventual smut in later parts; masturbation, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: this is for @lorelune 's SPRING FEVER collab!! i have been working on this for awhile now and i am excited to share it! this should be about 3 parts...i am very close to finishing the whole thing so i should be releasing a part a week for the next two weeks!

thank you for reading!! i would love to hear your thoughts <333

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“I think you’d be perfect.” 

Suguru’s voice is a caress, low and soft, as he sits across from you. 

Somehow, he always makes you feel like he is just beneath the surface of your skin, even if there is a respectable distance between you. He always makes you feel as if he is lurking somewhere in the lowest parts of you, pulling at strings you once thought hidden to yourself. 

You’ve kept your distance for this reason.

You swallow hard. 

And then you manage to get your voice to unstick, to find it somewhere inside of you and bring it to life. It’s firmer than you’re anticipating and you’re proud;

“I don’t think I would be.” 

Suguru looks at you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s seeing through you, pulling you open slowly to gaze at all the inner workings of you. His dark eyes are keen, so sharp, even if they’re shaded by half-lidded lashes. 

He smiles pleasantly and indulges you, but you know he believes very firmly that he is, in fact, right, “why not?” 

“I told you when I agreed to join you—all I wanted in exchange for helping you, was to be an unbound Omega.” You force yourself to meet his eyes and to not get sucked into the dark tide of them. 

“You asked for my protection.” He reminds you. 

Your eyes flash this time, heated, a little spark that skitters to life inside of you.

“I didn’t—“ 

“Is that not what you’d call it?” Suguru asks, “when I interfered, every time, to be sure no other Alpha got to you? Or when I scented you to keep them away?”

Prickling warmth dots your cheeks, can feel at the back of your neck, too, the tips of your ears. You try a different tactic. 

“I’m not a homemaker.” 

His smile is soft, “I don’t want a homemaker.” 

“I’m not obedient.” You counter again, as if you could dissuade Suguru Getou once he’s made up his mind.

“You’ve been quite good for me.” Suguru says smugly and this time, a little noise of embarrassment or frustration eeks out of you. A short, sharp little growl from your throat, almost a groan of irritation.  

“I—I’m doing your dirty work. That’s our agreement! You give me assignments that I complete and in return, I get my freedom.” 

“I don’t know why you’re so opposed to this. Is it not similar already to what we have now?” He asks simply, “I’d still let you roam, if that’s what you’re so scared of.” 

“No it’s that—that power and mentality that I don’t want you to have over me.” You snap. 

“I already have it,” he says and it isn’t intended to be cruel, but certainly is, “how long do you think you’d last, without the protection of an Alpha?” 

“I didn’t have any before you.” 

“You were starving, injured, and constantly on the run before me.” You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off, “it would still give you what you want.” 

“I don’t want to be yours.” You say frankly, perhaps to be cruel yourself. And then you show teeth a little, flash them in warning, “I don’t want your mark.”

Suguru looks amused, if anything, by your display. 

His smile is knowing and insufferable. It makes your anger ratchet up inside of you, hackles rising. You feel a little growl working its way out of your throat. It tears out of you in annoyance, when he says, “I don’t believe you.” 

You slam the door so hard on its hinges that it rattles the entire wall. You wish it would rattle all the world. 

***

Your cursed technique rips to life like a star exploding outwards. 

Beast that you are, it overtakes you, transforms you until you are all claws and dripping, little fangs. Your body elongates, elegant, and built for speed, viciousness. The horns atop your head are sharp, too, curled the slightest into a crescent shape. The beast in you stretches and pulls at your bones, fits your skin to it in a way that you have come to know well. 

(“Cursed technique: Cursed Creature,” Suguru hums, “allows you to turn into a cursed version of yourself, a sort of,” he pauses, looking you over, “monster?” 

“That’s right.” You tell him, body trembling all over, in dire need of food. Care. Sleep. 

He places a large hand on top of your head, strokes gently, until his hand nudges your cheek, beneath your chin so you are forced to look up into his eyes. Depthless violet. 

“You have a deal.”)

The sorcerer is cast backward with the force of your transformation. In this form, everything heightens, sharpening into brilliance. So much brighter, clearer. So much more overwhelming. 

You are a flash of darkness when you move, a mass of lethality. 

The sorcerer doesn’t stand a chance, the moment you dash past him with a deep swipe of your claws, you know this will be an easy match. You chitter in this form, excited, warbly little sound erupting from you before you careen towards him again. 

This time, he is warped away. 

But you are fast, changing your trajectory mid-step to catch up to where he was warped. 

Except, this time, a white haired sorcerer takes his place. 

Your claws meet air. 

A growling hiss erupts from your throat. 

Satoru Gojo. 

Suguru told you to stay away from him. At all costs.

And speak of the devil, your name is called, whistled almost. Your head turns to find Suguru appearing, too. 

Faintly, the more human part of you wonders what the occasion is. 

For a moment, all you can see is threat. Your hackles rise as your growling gets lower, more sinister, your form moving behind Gojo as if you might circle him, unable to let down your guard. 

“Call off your pet,” Gojo says. 

Suguru calls your name again and there’s something else in his tone now, a little sharper. 

(Fear, you wonder faintly, in some far away part of your mind. Is he worried Gojo would hurt you?)

You come to heel at Suguru’s side, remaining in this form, making a low, threatening sound still. Warning. Your claws still drip with the blood of that sorcerer. 

“Go,” Suguru says to you. 

Your head snaps to look at him, eyes narrowing. “I’m not leaving,” you snap and the words have a bite to it, around the curves of your fangs. You look back at Gojo. If this comes to blows, you don’t want Suguru facing Gojo alone–you don’t want to leave his back suddenly unguarded. 

It’s counterintuitive to you, goes against all of your instincts. You don’t leave him, you don’t leave his side, his back. 

“Go,” Suguru says, harsher this time and the command seeps into you. You waver. And then, “I won’t tell you again.” 

When you hiss at him in that warbling way of curses, he smiles faintly, almost fondly, as your teeth drip with venom. But you do listen to him this time.

And with your heightened hearing, you hear Gojo underneath his breath as you slink away;

“How interesting.” 

***

When Suguru returns to you, he is unharmed. 

You’d paced the length of the hallway outside of his room in the compound until you could have worn a hole into it. 

Few would be brave enough to wait for Suguru outside his door. 

When he arrives, he is mildly surprised to see you, before his expression melts into a sort of—smugness. A knowing glint to his eyes. 

“Why would you send me away?” You snap.

“You could’ve gone in, you know, if it would’ve soothed you.” Suguru says instead, head nodding towards the door to his suite. “Would you like a key?” 

You blanche, taking a half step back, “I don’t—“

It allows him to get to his door and open it. You’ve been here before, in the privacy of his suite, but now it feels strange. A little different. He holds the door open for you. 

You glance at the threshold and feel as if you’re making an important decision. 

“Come on,” he says smoothly and before you can think twice about it, you are being led inside, his hand drifting somewhere near your lower back. He never touches you, the feeling is a phantom one, the impression of it. You shiver a little. 

But you round on him again, “why would you send me away?”

He doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he goes rifling in a drawer, digging around a little. 

His suite is larger than others. The living room is open and attached is the kitchen. It’s all light wood, with tall windows that overlook the courtyard. You know, despite never being inside, that his bedroom is down the hall and to the left. The bathroom is across from it. You’ve sat many times on the floor of his living room with him, going over assignments, plans that he has, and what he’d like you to do. 

When he finds what he’s looking for, he makes a soft noise, before turning to you with a small, gold key. 

“I don’t want a key!” You snap. 

“It’s a spare, take it just in case.” He replies and when you don’t move to grab it from him, he takes your hand in his much larger one, and opens your palm to him. 

He places the key in your hand. 

And then his eyes catch yours, “you were worried.” 

“No-!” you get out, “I don’t like being—I’m supposed to protect you.” 

Suguru smiles, hand still swallowing yours, “isn’t that sweet?” he remarks, “an Omega attempting to protect an Alpha.”

Immediately, you jerk away from him.

The key is still in your shaking fist. 

“Don’t start,” you snarl, low and vicious and hurt, “I’ve always been the one at your side.” 

“Yes,” he agrees, hand falling back down to his side listlessly. “I already told you that.” 

You’ve always been at my side, he’d said, when he was trying to convince you to–

“That’s not what I meant!” Your voice rises without your consent and you feel an embarrassed, angry flush through your face for being so worked up. The room is thick with your worry and anger and frustration, all of your pent up energy like a knot in your chest, in your voice. It’s in your heart and the way you look at him. 

“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” Suguru says easily, “it’s still the truth.” 

When you slam the door this time, you hear something fall from the wall. 

But the key is still in your trembling hand, digging indents into your palm, and your heart is still a beast in your chest.

And behind the closed door, Suguru Getou smiles fondly, and retrieves the fallen, shattered frame from the floor. 

***

For a while, you avoid Suguru. 

You stuff the key he gave you in your nightstand drawer, far in the back, in an attempt to keep it out of sight and out of your mind. 

And at first, you think he is respecting your boundaries; you receive assignments through others from him. You see him only in passing and he never speaks directly to you. He hardly acknowledges you. 

But after a week and a half, it begins to feel like punishment. 

And the key is starting to burn and itch in your mind. You think about it at night, tossing over in your bed; you think about unlocking his door at this hour. What would you find? Would he be asleep? Awake? Alone? Fully dressed? 

You think of him half bare and lounging, hair slipping over his shoulders, and the scent of sandalwood and fig. Tonka or something woodsy, maybe. You know it well and it lingers long after he leaves you. 

You suddenly miss it, crave it. 

Him. 

You twist beneath your sheets. 

Why did he have to–

You make a soft noise of frustration, turning over again. 

You’re restless. 

Something beneath your skin begins to itch and squirm. 

Previously, Suguru had hardly mentioned your status as an Omega. He rarely acknowledged it; you were too brilliant of a sorcerer for him to care, you thought. You were too powerful. The only instance he brought it up was to scent you, a form of caution in a particular instance, for a particular mission. The memory still simmers in your mind, the way he’d rubbed the gland on your wrist with a careful thumb. He’d given you clothes of his to wear. He’d had you sit in his quarters for long hours, until it seemed as if you were his, in some way. 

But now that he’s actually brought it up, offered you his bite, to be his, it paints him in an entirely different light. 

Had he always…wanted you? 

Was he always planning this? 

The naive, desperate parts of you want to believe this is a recent thought of his. Previous to this, he only ever saw you as another sorcerer, a powerful one that aided him. You had always been one of the closer ones to him, at his heel, his beck and call. 

You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of Suguru this way; as an Alpha. An unmated one, who kept your company. 

And he does, no matter how badly it burns to admit it, protect you.

You know he wards off Alphas. 

You know he perhaps does more than even that. 

But you don’t want—

You don’t want to be mated. 

You don’t want to suddenly be coddled by him, held back, don’t want to be the little thing that keeps his bed warm.

Your face heats with the thought. 

Images flash through your mind, flickering, melting together like film that bleeds and runs, of him overtop you. Shrouding you. His hair on your shoulders and back. You think of his mouth on your throat, teeth in your neck. 

You rub at your eyes suddenly as if to clear them.

You know he leaves on a mission for a week in two days. 

You assume, at some point, he’ll speak to you. And break this strange silence. 

You’ll both return to normal then.

And then perhaps you won’t lose any more sleep over him.

***

Suguru never says goodbye to you. 

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does—you just figured he’d finally drop this silly little silence game.

You suppose he must’ve thought the same of you.

Besides, what were you expecting from him? An apology? It’s foolish to even entertain. You knew you weren’t going to apologize either. The least you’ll do, when he returns, is  act as if all is normal again. Perhaps it’s better that way, not to address what he’s put in his head recently. 

The more you speak of it, or think of it, the worse it unravels in your mind. 

On the second day that he is gone, you realize you miss his scent. 

You realize it has become such a staple in your everyday life that its sudden disappearance  is almost alarming. It makes you more irritable, more vicious. You snap at the others faster, bite out insults and brutalities. 

You—

Well, you miss it. 

Him, maybe. 

The admittance is a hard one to swallow around. It burns going down. 

On the third day, you’re genuinely craving his scent in a way that makes your teeth ache. You had no idea you could even miss a scent like this, need it so bad that your body would betray you with a physical pain in your chest. Somewhere in your mouth, under your tongue. 

You try to ignore it. 

You go on with your life. 

But by the fifth day, you are agitated and aggressive. Everyone knows something is wrong with you. You know something is wrong with you. You can feel it beneath your skin, crawling, squirming. It makes you want to tear out your hair, rip at your nails, or sink your teeth into something. You’re restless.

You can’t sleep. 

You can hardly eat or think. 

And as you lay awake in your bed, kicking at sheets, sweating and twisting, you know what it is you need. 

You’ve known the whole week. 

You throw back the covers and wrench open your bedside drawer. 

The key rattles, hot, like it knows it’s finally about to be used. It’s musical sound a siren song, it’s been burning away in there the whole week. 

You swipe it and turn sharply from your bedroom. From your own apartment. 

It’s the middle of the night; not a soul sees you in the compound. 

Like a person possessed, you walk. Your back is straight. Your steps are quick. Your mind is set, on fire.

Suguru’s door has haunted you the whole week.

The key in your hand digs into the flesh, carving it’s divots there like your hand might be the lock itself. 

You try not to think about it–you unlock the door. You throw it open. 

You shut it behind you, slide the lock back into place. 

Darkness greets you.

You wander in like you know the place (you do, you do–)

You wander in like it’s yours to wander in. 

Instantly, something loosens inside of you. 

You exhale hard. 

Inhale sharp. 

The smell of him, fainter because he’s been gone, assaults your senses, sweeps over them. You take in a lungful like gasping for air, you smell faint traces of fig and sandalwood. Notes of tonka that you long for, that urge you to move deeper into his space. 

In the dark, you make your way down the hall, towards his bedroom.

You haunt the arch for a moment.

Guilt or regret or embarrassment almost seize you. They make you pause. 

Some sane part of you is clawing at your insides, wailing to turn around and leave. Leave now. 

But he gave you a key.

He gave you a key, you think in circles, again and again. He gave me a key. 

You cross the threshold.

You sink down into his bed and his scent is strongest here, even still, after several days it’s his. 

You turn over the covers to get beneath them, cool sheets against your legs, sliding and smooth. You turn your face into his pillow and inhale. 

A soft little groan works it’s way out of you.

Instantly, your muscles slacken. 

Everything leeches from you; your anger and irritation and restlessness. 

It soothes you so deeply and so swiftly it makes your head spin. 

You curl beneath his blankets and take deep pulls of breath, squirming a moment if only to bring his scent tighter around you. You envelope yourself in it.You shroud yourself in it. 

And finally, after five days of restless nights, you fall asleep almost instantly. 

Not a single dream. Not one moment where you wake or stir. 

You sleep deeply. 

In the morning, the sun warms you through the broad windows like a content cat. 

You stretch lazily like one, too.

Suguru will be home tomorrow. 

You know you need to leave his bed, hope that your scent dissipates by the time he returns. 

You didn’t do anything wrong, you know—he gave you a key. 

He gave you a key. 

But rather, you know he would never let you live it down. He would use it instantly, as ammunition for his argument, the debate that the two of you keep circling.

You don’t quite leave as quickly as you should still, though: 

You linger.

You’re comfortable.

Calmed for the first time all week.

And when you do slip out, it’s silently, locking the door behind you.

Like maybe you won’t ever let yourself back in there, trying to shut it like it was a one time indulgence and gone now from your mind and body. 

But his scent clings to you. 

And little do you know, your scent clings to his sheets—and to Suguru, it’s sweet as can be and unmistakable—irreplaceable.

He collapses in his own bed when he returns and knows you’ve been all over it. He can smell the crush of dark berries, jasmine, the soothing note of vanilla that clings to you, that he’s come to adore. 

He grins to himself and knows then, he’s got you right where he wants you.

***

For a moment, you think Suguru is going to make you be the bigger person and apologize upon his return. 

Instead, he finds you. 

And he doesn’t say he’s sorry for his recent behavior, but he does say;

“I’d prefer if you didn’t avoid me in the future.”

It feels like sorry enough. 

And for some time, things return to a state of normal.

A version of it.

It isn’t quite like it was before—in fact, you seem to spend more time around him than previously. He calls on you more. He brings you into his space more frequently, often urging you to eat with him, beside him, at his table.

This is ideal for you. Close but not too close.

Although, he begins to ask, don’t you have your key? Can’t you let yourself in? 

You say you haven’t used it.

He hums like he knows differently, but doesn’t press you.

Until finally he asks you to retrieve a notebook in his study and bring it to him.

Fetch, he says.

“It’s locked, isn’t it?”

“You have your key.” He answers simply, not looking up from the book he is reading. 

For a moment, you almost protest, but something stops you. Maybe the twitch in his brow.

It’s a useless argument to pick, anyways.

You do have a key.

It would be fastest, easiest, to just use it.

So you do. 

And you hand him the notebook he asked for, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you with gentle hands.

“Thank you,” he adds, voice so smooth and low, almost tempting.

You swallow a little.

Then you quickly avert your gaze. 

“Whatever,” you grouse, but he smiles fondly, amused.

And it opens another door, more than just the one to his suite.

***

Tentatively, you begin to come and go.

The first (second)  time you use your key to enter without his order, he is careful not to react to you any differently than how he usually does. 

His eyes brighten a little, though, like a leopard that’s caught something interesting in its sights and is waiting to see what it’ll do. 

Still, you grow more comfortable entering his space on your own. 

You claim portions of it; a corner of the couch. A particular cushion around his low table. All of the sunny patches in his suite become yours, scented with you, indented with you. More than that, some horrible, hidden part of you adores that your scent is all over his space. 

It’s comforting to find it beside his scent. 

It soothes a part of you that you don’t wish to admit to. 

His hands grow bolder. 

Now they’re always hovering at the small of your back, the nape of your neck. He tucks strands of your hair away from your face and though you jerk away from him, it’s often half-hearted. You snip at him and he only smiles.

Pleased. Smug. Knowing. 

His hands guide you as you walk beside him.

You grow accustomed to his touch in some way—he makes sure of it.

Then, as if to prove something—

Another cult member begins to cause trouble with you; he is another Omega. He begins with snide comments and remarks that test your patience. He doesn’t stop until you are growling and bristled and ready for a fight. 

And all it takes to stop you is Suguru’s large hand coming down on the nape of your neck. 

His thumb rests atop one scent gland at your throat, fingertips pressing delicately into the one on the other side. Hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

“Easy,” he murmurs and just like that, you can feel some of your aggression slip from you, deflate like a balloon.

It’s involuntary, the energy and anger unspooling from your body in an instant. In the back of your mind, you’re alarmed; how easily it was for him to effect you. It’s terrifying.

You swat his hand away, lurching from him, another little growl in your throat.

But you don’t fight him or the look in his eyes, the way he tilts his chin up in the barest hint of dominance. 

You storm off.

Instances as such continue to happen, though, where he’s able to sooth or quell your temperament with a touch. A word. A look. 

It comes to a head while you’re eating dinner with him. 

“You’re so wound up,” Suguru comments lightly, “your scent is so sharp with it. What’s bothering you?” 

Reflexively, you snap, “you are.” 

And it’s meant to be some sort of insult but Suguru’s lips twist into this hitched little smile. “It’s my fault you’re wound up?” He asks lightly. 

“Don’t twist my words.” You respond, fixing him with a glare, “you bother me.” 

He’s still deeply amused by this, you can tell by the twinkle in his eyes. The smug way he holds himself. 

“Would you like me to help you?” He asks. 

“No,” you say reflexively. 

A beat of silence before he says, “come here. I’ll help you.” 

There’s a command in his voice, laced there, and doing something strange to your head. 

You hesitate.

He pounces, “just a massage.” He soothes, “I can tell your shoulders are knotted up and tense. I can see it.”

His voice has dropped into that soothing lull.

Warily, “away from my glands?” 

He smiles, “of course.” And then, “come here.”

Your body moves easily now and he murmurs, “sit in front of me. Back to me—there, that’s it.” 

It feels more vulnerable than it should to show your back to him, to sit in front of him like a child to their mother. You try to keep your posture straight and careful. 

But then he sets large, warm hands to your shoulders. His fingers dig into the meat of them gently, pressing into your muscles which spasm and twitch in pain. You yelp, jerking away. 

Suguru tsks, “see how tense you are? You’re in pain.” He scolds softly and you feel heat smart across your face, “sit still for me. I’ll be gentler.”

True to his word, he eases up, fingers careful as they run into your tense muscles.

He finds bundles of twisted up tension in your back and shoulders, pressing into them until a noise springs from you—a groan, a whimper, a little growl. He works the sounds out of you. You swear he’s doing it deliberately and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all just to humiliate you a little. 

But you finally loosen and slacken for him. 

When you finally sink into his hands, he murmurs, “I don’t know why you fight this so badly.”

You let go of a heavy sigh, “you do know why. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“Because you’re stubborn?” Suguru asks lightly and you snort, despite yourself, “because you don’t know what’s good for you?”

“You’re no good for me.” You respond.

Suguru’s turn to sigh and if he digs his fingers in to make you yip in pain, he’d never say it was purposeful. 

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

Reflexively, you jerk away from his touch, you turn to look at him over your shoulder with a sneer. 

“I’m not a pet.” 

Suguru does not heed your warning and instead gently pulls you back towards him by your waist. 

“No?” He asks lightly, fingers resuming their steady massage. You go completely still like prey, unsure, wary. Angry. Humiliated. “It’s not a bad thing to be a pet. You’re thinking about it all wrong.” 

His fingers ease up towards your neck and you stiffen again. 

“Suguru,” you say in warning as he nears your scent glands. Perhaps to what he’s said.

“You’re my pet now,” he continues, “though you don’t like to admit it. It’s not so bad, is it?” 

Stubbornly, you don’t answer him.

But after a moment, you say, “if I’m already yours, why do you need this last bit of me? If you already see me as your pet, why do you want me so terribly, in this way—“

Suguru suddenly pulls you back deeper, into his lap, against his chest. 

You squirm, but he holds you tight, hooks his chin over your shoulder.

Alarm bells ring frantically in your head now that he’s so close to the glands in your throat. 

“Don’t play dumb,” Suguru muses, half-mocking, “it doesn’t suit you.” 

“Let me go,” you snarl low and hot.

“What are you scared of?” Suguru responds, “that I’d trap you? If you’d take my Bite, I’d let you roam further than I do now. You’d be safe.” 

“Liar,” you hiss, “I’m not dumb.” 

“I’m not trying to stifle you, I’m trying to set you free.” Suguru almost purrs and his voice is warm and low and creeping up over your spine and trying to find its way inside you. 

You begin to squirm this time, thrashing in his hold until you manage to wriggle free, falling forward onto your hands and knees. 

Instinctively, you turn to keep your back protected, scrambling away from him. You bare your teeth at him. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

He watches this show of aggression with amusement, tilting his head slightly. And then he sighs, “I don’t think anything I say will convince you at this point.” 

You narrow your eyes at the tone. Your hackles rise. 

In an instant, he has grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back to him. 

Underneath him.

You shove hard at him, twisting and fighting as he settles himself over you. 

You realize how solid he is, how strong, and large. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even flinch. 

“Suguru,” you hiss at him, pushing as hard as you can on his chest.

“See how easy it was for me to subdue you?” He says then, voice smooth and low. “If I wanted to take you, I simply would’ve already. You’re no challenge to me; if I wanted to trap you, I would’ve.”

“Get off me!” 

You thrash hard beneath him and in an instant, he has your hands uselessly pinned above your head, stretching you out beneath him.

His nose dips, near the scent gland at your throat. You squirm.

He squeezes your wrists, “stop squirming.” He murmurs low, “or my instinct will be to bite.”

Your stomach does a horrible flip, a flutter of—fear, excitement. 

“Just—get off—leave me alone!” You get out, voice high and tight. You try not to arch away from the way he lets his face fall to the crook of your neck. 

“Hush,” Suguru hisses, nudging his nose beneath your ear.

He’s scenting you. 

He’s done this before and despite everything in you, you finally go slack. You force yourself not to tilt your head or offer up more, rather let him urge you into the way that he prefers. 

He nudges his cheek and nose against your jaw. He lets out a relieved breath, fitting more of his body to you and you feel the push of chest into yours, his hips.

You squirm a little and a growl erupts from his throat.

You fight back the sound that almost works its way out of you now, swallow around it.

When he’s finished, he asks, “would you like to scent me?” And instinctively, you want to say yes, but you temper yourself. Then he adds, “I’m sending you away on a mission alone. I’ll be scenting you until the day you leave now.” 

You catch his eyes, glinting.

“So, I thought it only fair if you’d like to scent me, too.” 

You don’t know why, but something squirms inside of you, something a little hurt. 

“You’re sending me away?”

Suguru hums softly, “I need you to take care of something for me. I only trust you to do it.” 

You flex your hands a little in his hold, but he doesn’t budge. 

He nudges at your jaw again, gentle, and murmurs, “this would be easier if you’d take my mark.” 

You turn your head then to shield your throat, and face him. His nose nearly brushes yours and you look up at him through your lashes. You bite your tongue from any further complaints, dipping down to the crux of his throat now. 

Easily, perhaps eagerly, he bares his throat for you.

Satisfaction erupts beneath your skin as his scent washes over you, dark fig and oud, sandalwood and musk. Carefully, your nose runs along the column of his throat. 

“I’m not even—“ you huff, retry, “I haven’t had a Heat in—it wouldn’t take, anyways.” 

“Ah,” Suguru says and you wish you hadn’t told him at all. Realization dawns over his features the way a cat might realize it’s caught its mouse beneath its paws. “Is this what you’re so scared of?” 

“No—I prefer it this way. It’s another reason that you can’t. It wouldn’t work.” You say stubbornly and perhaps in your irritation, you burrow further down into the crook of his neck, tuck your cheek to his skin to nudge. 

“I could give you a temporary one,” he murmurs, “I’d let you do the same in return, of course.” 

You go quiet, brushing your lips against his skin, hesitating. 

“I don’t need it.” You finally decide, even as you let the blunt side of a tooth nick gently against his neck. “I can protect myself.” You pull away to look at him again, “am I not one of your strongest?” 

“You are my strongest.” He agrees, he praises. “But am I not also strong?” He asks, “and yet you still insist on protecting me.” 

You open your mouth to protest, but he takes your chin in hand suddenly, words dying before they can escape. 

“You are my strongest.” He says, “I would like the world to be aware of it.” 

“I told you, I don’t want to be yours–” 

“Then stop protecting me. Flee. Run away and never return.” Suddenly, his touch, his body, all of him is gone. He rolls off of you and onto his back beside you. Cold air sweeps in. You can feel his touch like burning imprints on your skin. 

You turn your head to the side to look at him. 

“You would hunt me down if I ran.” 

A flicker of a smile ghosts his face. 

“And if I ran from you?” He asks, “if I discarded you?” 

Something twists so viciously and sharply in your chest that your eyes sting with it. You lock your jaw tight. You stare up at the ceiling. 

“You refuse to speak but your scent is spiced with distress, sour with despair.” He turns to look at you, “not so easy to hear, is it?” 

“I can’t stand you or your games.” You get out. 

“There are no games.” He says evenly, “only the one you’re playing with yourself.” 

You scoff, “which is?” 

He sits up slightly, over you, looking down at you, the inky silk of his dark hair sliding over one shoulder. 

“Seeing how long you can outrun what you want.” 

You exhale roughly, in exasperation, and then you ask dryly, “and what do I want, Suguru?” 

“To be taken care of.” 

“I don’t need–”

He cuts off your growl before it can start, taking your chin in hand to turn your head towards him once more. “You never have, but it doesn’t mean you can’t want it.” 

“I don’t want it either.” You snap. “You have some grand delusion of me in your mind that I am some weak, submissive creature in need of your care.” 

“I’ve said none of that, have I?” He hums. “Now you’re twisting my words, being purposefully churlish–in hopes of, what? To scare me off?” 

His palm opens up against your jaw, your cheek. His thumb touches your bottom lip. 

“You snap and you snarl and posture as some ferocious, independent creature to scare everyone off. I don’t blame you–I am certain you protected yourself many times this way from lesser people.” His voice is soft, almost a lull, you allow his palm to open against your lips, to turn your face into the cup of his hands. “You don’t believe anyone can handle you and you hope if you bite hard enough, tear into them, they’ll run off. And then you’ll feel vindicated; you were right, you are too much to handle. You were right, you are a monster. You’re unworthy of care or companionship or protection.” 

His hand moves upward, baring his wrist to your mouth now, “go on,” he encourages, “bite me. As hard as you like. Scream and cry and tear into me. Loathe me and scorn me.” He leans closer, over you, as he hushes like a mother to their child, “I’ll still be here, with the rings of your teeth marks littered in my skin. I’ll be the only one, bruised and bloody, still taking care of you–no matter how badly you fight me.” 

Out of anger or frustration or something else entirely, tears prick your eyes. As if to hide them, you open your mouth against his wrist, gentle first–warm and soft lips and tongue. He looks enraptured. He looks starving. 

You sink your teeth into his skin viciously. 

He hisses in pain, sharp, but doesn’t pull away. “There,” he coos, leaning over you, sinking into the pain, “is that what you wanted?” 

Blood bursts into your mouth in a way that is almost startling, sharp and metallic. It should be gross and horrible and–you whine a little, somewhere in the back of your throat and bear down harder. 

If that’s what he promises, you’ll make him prove it. 

If he wants to be the one beside you, you’ll make him pay. 

He leans down to kiss at your cheeks, gentle, humming. You realize there are tears. Your jaw aches. 

But you don’t let go and he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Does that feel better? To get your teeth into someone who isn’t scared of you?” He murmurs, nudging at your tense jaw, kissing there. “Shall I do the same to you?” 

You release his wrist and shove him off, hard enough that he gives and he goes. 

You stand up and storm out of his chambers, slamming the door on its hinges as hard as you can. You hope it knocks over every painting on his walls. You hope the entire compound somehow hears it. You hope it breaks something in the same way that something has been broken open inside of you.

You wipe his blood from your mouth with the back of your hand.

Suguru doesn’t even bandage the wound. And he wears his sleeves high, so that all the world might see it.

#suguru getou x reader #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru getou x you #getou suguru x you #suguru geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #cw: omegaverse #cw: yandere #cielo writes! #cielo's writing!

[mrowlai]

sick day

character(s): wanderer/scaramouche, wriothesley, childe/tartaglia

summary: you’re sick and they take care of you (can be read as platonic or romantic, possibly ooc wriothesley)

Wanderer/Scaramouche “I really cannot be sick right now, I have things to do the next few days and my entire body hurts,” you groaned.

“Stop complaining.” Wanderer rested a warm towel on your forehead. “Or it’ll just get worse.”

You had fallen ill after a bad rainstorm caught you defenseless while running errands in the forests of Sumeru. Chilled to the bone, you had returned home and fell asleep, forgetting all about how Wanderer was set to come over that afternoon.

Thankfully, his tsundere act didn’t prevent him from helping you out with your cold.

You let out a violent sneeze that tossed the compress back towards him. “Sorry,” you grumbled, turning towards him.

“Use a tissue next time, ew,” were the kind words that came out of his mouth. “Or at least warn me.”

“It’s not like I can predict some of these things, and you don’t have to be an ass about it.”

“I also don’t have to help you, but here I am,” he huffed, moving to place the towel on your head again. “I’ll go grab a bucket soon, just in case you throw up.”

“I doubt I’m that sick,” you said.

“Good, because that’s the last thing I want to clean up.”

“Just shut it and let me rest.” You closed your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. Surprisingly, he followed your request and let you doze off, staying by your side the whole time.

Wriothesley You made your way up to his office in the fortress, sniffling and coughing the whole time.

“Wrio, I think I’m sick.”

“I’d say that’s accurate. So why are you here and not resting?”

“I wanted to see you. Plus it’s a just a cold, I’ll live.”

Wriothesley chuckled. “You really should be in bed at the infirmary if you’re sick. At least while you’re here, have some tea with honey for me.” He pulled a chair over opposite his desk and motioned for you to sit down while he prepared the tea. He, of course, made himself a cup as well.

“Thank you,” you said hoarsely before you blew on the steaming liquid. Once you felt it was cool enough to drink you took a small sip. Instantly you felt your throat soothed as the sweet honey made its way down.

“Has anyone checked your temperature? Sigewinne?” Wriothesley took a sip of his own tea.

“No, not yet. I felt like complaining to you first.” You smiled.

He let out another laugh. “That’s very kind of you, but we really should get you to the infirmary to make sure it’s nothing major.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a head cold, though,” you said. “It’ll probably be gone in a couple of days.”

“How about we finish this tea and head down. If you’re right I’ll let it go, but if you’re wrong you have to rest on the doctors orders.”

“Deal.” You smiled behind your cup.

Childe/Tartaglia "You're sick."

"No I'm not."

Childe slowly put a hand to your forehead and hummed. "You have a fever. Did you dress warmly like I told you to?"

You looked to the ground as your cheeks grew hot with shame. "N-no."

He had taken you on a trip from Liyue to Snezhnaya after you expressed interest in experiencing the culture there. Despite given his clear warnings of the cold, you had only packed a thick jacket and crocheted scarf to keep you warm.

Upon seeing you, Childe let you borrow his fluffy hooded coat and handed you a spare pair of mittens he kept on him. They were a little small since he carried them around to help out his siblings, but you were grateful nonetheless.

Soon enough, he had you in his spare bedroom surrounded by blankets. A bowl of chicken broth with noodles sat on the nightstand next to you. You assumed he had a lot of experience taking care of sick people due to how big his family was. That many kids in one household was bound to spread the flu like wildfire if one caught it.

"After you eat, I need you to get some rest, okay?" Childe said it as more of a light demand than a suggestion. "Tourism can wait, and in the meantime I'll see if I can find some warmer clothes for you to wear in the meantime. What was your favorite color again?"

a/n: this turned out a bit longer than i had planned but i hope you enjoyed it! if you’re sick while reading this i hope you feel better soon.

© mrowlai

#inspired by me not feeling well rn #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin sickfic #scaramouche #wanderer #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #wriothesley #wriothesley fluff #childe #tartaglia #childe fluff #tartaglia fluff #*mine

[sadesluvr]

The Hills (Part Two)

JJ hates his menial job, but there’s a certain customer he lusts and loathes in particular.

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

Part One

You didn’t know what had come over you.

One minute you’d been poolside; pissed over something so fickle you couldn’t remember, and the next you were pressed against the cold walls of the storage room whilst JJ Maybank - known Pogue and borderline vagrant - had fucked you from behind.

He was all over you now; his love bites still etched on your body whilst his ocean and marijuana dripped scent was embedded into the material of your swimsuit. None of it compared to the fact that he’d made his mark directly inside you - his cum still seeping out of you when you’d showered before dinner that day. Your dear father had been concerned, so worried that his princess was walking with a slight limp whilst she kept her thighs pressed together…and all you could say was that you needed to pee.

What had happened was a one time thing, a lapse of judgement in the spur of the moment. He could run off and tell all his friends, but who was truly going to believe him? You had everyone wrapped around your finger, so as far as it went, your word was sacred.

Would you really be that embarrassed if word got out? It wasn’t as if JJ was a complete social pariah. Still, you knew enough about him (and his felonious father) to know that some things were best kept a secret.

And you vowed to keep it that way.

“I’m bored,” Bree said, dragging her vowels as she ran a hand through her hair. “Let’s get drunk. Or high. Better yet, both,”

You and Halle scoffed as you turned around, balancing an ungodly amount of clothes on your arms. They were over at your house, going through your closet as you sifted for something fresh - or forgotten - to wear. Midsummers was around the corner, and nothing but perfection was expected from you. Not that you were ever worried about that, of course.

“Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” you said, rolling your eyes.

“We can just go to the store and get a new one,” Bree huffed before perking up again. “Come on, let’s go to Rafe’s! They’ve always got something going on,”

Halle snickered. “Please, anywhere but his!”

“Agreed,” you nodded. “Rafe does the hard stuff. I am not a crack whore,”

“Speaking of, what’s going on with you and him, huh?” Bree pressed. “You know he’s into you…I bet he’s going to ask you to Midsummers,”

You smirked. The fact was rather amusing - Rafe could, and has, hooked up with many girls on the island, and yet you were the one he chased the most. It was the classic Madonna/Whore complex, and if you were to say yes - even once - you knew you were in for a life of nothing but rigid conformity, from the rich white of your wedding dress to the grand names of your babies once you carried the Cameron lineage. To some, that life was appealing, but you already had it all. 

You just wanted a bit of fun. Perhaps in the form of another blonde.

“I’ll hook up with him but that’s it,” you shrugged, holding a dress to your body as you stared in the mirror. “It all depends on how drunk I can get…”

“Are you serious? How could you not like Rafe Cameron? Every girl on this island would kill to be you!” Bree exclaimed with a distant, yet covetous look in her eye. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,”

Bree huffed again before pursing her lips. 

“…If you don’t want him, can I have him?”

You cocked a brow.

“Does he want you?”

Halle bit her lip, holding back a laugh as she flopped onto your bed and grinned.

“I’m all for you getting laid anyway,” she said, breaking the somewhat obvious tension. “Whoever you got it from last time gave it to you good… I haven’t seen you glow like that since our twelfth grade spring break!”

You paused, suddenly being hit with the faint smell of chlorine and weed. JJ was behind you again, stamping impassioned kisses and bites onto your skin as he tutted into you, skilfully working his big cock into you as he sought his release. It was all too warm, too fast.

“Oooh, who’s the guy?” Bree perked up, with Halle nodding eagerly in agreement.

“It’s nothing serious…” you shrugged, turning your back to the both of them as you tried to hide your smirk. You and JJ weren’t dating - and you certainly weren’t close to being friends - and yet you couldn’t deny the feeling in your stomach. Whether it was nerves, lust, or somewhere in between, you couldn’t wait to run into the Pogue boy again. 

“…You know what?” you said, clearing your throat as you stared off into the distance. “Maybe I can get us that weed for next time…”

That Saturday, you wore your prettiest (and tightest) sundress. 

It seemed your covered body made you borderline invisible (it was either that or JJ was deliberately ignoring you) as you watched him stroll around the pool, smiling in people’s faces and flipping them off behind their backs. Knowing that he hated his job - where he served to service people like you - was rather amusing. You couldn’t wait to make his day worse.

You stood up as he came your way, grabbing him by the shoulder as if you were scolding him.

The boy turned to you and gave you a once over.

“Whaddup princess, back for round two?”

“Shut up,” you hissed. “Listen, I need a favour —“

JJ grinned.

“I’m all ears but I’m charging this time, alright? I’ve seen what kind of car your dad drives,” he finished with a knowing smirk, and you rolled your eyes at the implication.

“Ugh,” you huffed. “Anyway. You have something I want —“

“—Oh, really? ‘Cus it just so happens you’ve got something I want too…” he mused, staring down at your glossy lips before checking you out. “Three things, in fact. Four if you’re a freak —“

You cut him off, aware of the way your cunt throbbed at the mention of letting any man - let alone someone like JJ - take your anal virginity.

“I need weed, and I know you Pogues have got good stuff,” you said, voice shaking. “I want a bag… or something —“

JJ scoffed and rolled his eyes, running his fingers over his lips as he looked you up and down. There was something alluring about the fact that you, in all your bitchiness, were rather innocent under it all. Someone like you, coming to him for a favour? How could he possibly turn the opportunity down?

“You don’t know how this works, huh?” he laughed, staring at your wide eyes.

“Tip me and I’ll have it hand delivered on Sunday. You won’t even have to go to The Cut.”

Raising a brow, you rummaged in your tiny purse before handing him some cash.

“Here’s a dollar. Fix yourself up.” you instructed, nodding to his messy hair and the small scars on his lip and hands.

“Don’t let me down.” You said sternly, holding your hands on top of his own momentarily as you stared into his blue eyes. He was clearly distracted; fixating more on your lush lips and the sheer material of your sundress stretching over your breasts.

At least the two of you were on the same page. 

The sun had set on Figure Eight, and, of course, JJ hadn’t shown up. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was bringing weed (you could’ve at least smoked your problems away), you would’ve felt like a girl stood up on her first date. Instead, you’d flung on your nighties and turned up the volume in your AirPods, staring out of the window and glancing at the moon.

As much as your mind wanted to focus on Midsummers, you could only think about JJ, and what it would feel like to have him fuck you again, this time in your pink satin sheets from the crack of dawn until the sunset. Sliding your hands into your silk shorts, you pushed past the wet lips of your pussy with your fingers and delved them into your core, imagining they were JJ’s and not yours. 

“That’s it, Mama, get those fingers nice and wet for Daddy…”

You longed to feel his cool rings press against your hot cunt as he fingerfucked you; his trademark smug smile painted across his face as he soothed you, relishing in your desperation.

“Fuck, if you can’t take my fingers, you’re gonna fall apart on my cock, huh?”

You delved your fingers deeper into your pussy as you worked your way into the crux of your fantasy; only to be rudely awakened by the sound of tapping on a window.

“What the fuck —-“

Blinking, you struggled to get your eyes to adjust to the sudden light, your vision blurry as they locked onto a certain blonde figure. Huffing, you wiped your hands on your thigh before striding over and siding it open.

“You asshole, are you dumb?” 

“Well, it would’ve been easier if you had left the gate open,” JJ said casually, climbing through your window. He was dressed in a ripped vest, and was carrying a small ziplock in one hand, with a gun in the other. “This shits like a fucking maze…Were those lasers…?”

Hurriedly, you closed the window, making sure that no one had seen before ushering him away from the view.

“The gate was open…five hours ago!” you exclaimed, careful to keep your voice to a hush. “Where the fuck were you?”

“I got caught up, okay?” he shrugged, unable to keep his eyes off of your body, fixated on the way your breasts jiggled with every animated reaction. “I’m here now, do you want the stuff or not?”

Frowning, you stuck your hand out for JJ to hand you the goods, inspecting the contents as he looked around your room. It was unbearably girly, yet JJ couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of pride to it all. He was the messy Pogue boy, slutting out a Kook princess - Rafe’s most wanted property - and it felt fucking good.

He glanced over at you, taking in the way your vest hung dangerously low on your chest, exposing the tops of your boobs and the outline of your nipples, hardened in the cool summer air. Your shorts weren’t any less tempting; the fabric riding so high up your legs that he could swear he could see a bit of your pussy through the opening.

If he was correct, you weren’t even wearing panties.

“Nice clothes by the way,” he grinned. “Is that lace? You goin’ somewhere?”

“To bed, yeah.” you scoffed, hiding the weed in your top drawer before lying on your bed. The hem of your vest rode up so that you gave JJ an eyeful of your stomach, teasing him with the rounded mounds of your breasts.

“Mind if I join you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead flopping next to you and propping himself up on his elbow, trapping you between the wall and his body. 

“I'm not in the mood, JJ.” You huffed, staring up at his damned smile as you tried to ignore the burning in your core. Just five minutes ago you were dreaming of this, and if it weren’t for your pride you would’ve been begging him to fuck you like a bitch in heat.

The blonde clicked his tongue, his lustful eyes drinking in your body as he began to run his fingers up your thigh, moving skilfully past your core and up onto your hips, daring to cop a feel of your breasts.

“You owe me for that…by the way,” he said knowingly. You raised your brows in shock, and he laughed.

“What, you thought it was free? That I’d give it to you out of ‘the goodness of my heart’? Nah, princess, this is good shit right here, and I’m not letting my journey go to waste —“ 

His hands stalked up your chest, causing you to let out a soft moan as he brushed your sensitive nipples before they decided to rest on your neck, gripping it with a considerable force as he held you in place to look at him.

“— You’re not really over our first time, anyway.”

He kissed you, and you instinctively pulled his body on top of you, gasping as he grinded his hard cock against against your thigh, signalling what he wanted. You were all too happy to give it to him, rolling yourself on top of him so that you could rub your cunt against his crotch, desperate for any kind of friction. JJ snickered, pulling up your vest to roughly grope your tits before placing his hand on your neck again, gently choking you.

“As much as I want you to ride me Princess, I didn’t come here for that kind of payment. I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

His gaze on your was unwavering as he lowered you to the foot of the bed on your knees, hand still firm around your throat. Your core throbbed as you glanced up at him through your lashes, palming his bulge through the fabric before taking it out. This was your first time seeing it up close; a decent six inches with a slight curve and pink fleshy tip that spouted precum.

Instinctively, you placed it to your lips, coating your lips in his seed before you took him in your mouth. JJ let out a loud moan at the contact, gripping the back of your neck as he held your head in place as you bobbed up and down his lengthy cock.

You took a deep breath as you pressed your tongue flat against the underside, angling your neck further as you became determined to deepthroat his cock. Your ego was far too big to let JJ think he was winning; even though you tears were beginning to prick at the corner of your eyes.

“JayJ…” you choked. “I need to — Let me —“

“What?” He teased, cupping your cheeks. “Use your words, Mama…”

“Y-You’re too big…” you whimpered, dribbling bits of saliva down his cock as you gagged around his middle. “I need air —“

The blonde tutted.

“I always knew you were all talk. It’s a shame you can’t handle me, princess… I thought you and I were pretty good together the other day…” he rambled, and for some reason the clear manipulation in his voice made your cunt throb uncontrollably. 

You bobbed your head again, this time managing to bury your nose in his messy pubes, squirming and clawing on his large thighs as he held you in place. 

“That’s it, Mama,” he cooed, throwing his head back in ecstasy. “Be a good girl and choke on this fucking dick. Shit, I always knew that mouth was good for something…”

It wasn’t until you let out a desperate gurgle and that he let go. Though your cheeks were burning and eyes were filled with tears, you couldn’t help but admire your work - JJ’s raw cock was shiny, coated in your spit; twitching as he ached for more. 

Grinning, you wiped the mixture of saliva and cum off of your lips before getting back to work, this time using your hands to massage his base.

“Don’t forget the balls, baby —“ he groaned, and you took his cock out of your mouth with a ‘pop’, taking a long lick down his underside before sucking gently on his balls. He groaned again, this time finishing with an impassioned gasp that threatened to wake your parents down the hall.

You slapped his thigh.

“You’re going to get me busted!”

“Fuck that…” he drawled through breathy chuckles. “…Daddy’s little princess has got a mouth for days — You give these to all the pool boys?”

“Consider yourself lucky,” you hummed, giving him a few languid strokes as you continued to attend to his balls. “Rafe’s been on me like a hawk…”

JJ sneered, wrinkling his nose as he slapped his heavy cock on your face, producing a wet smacking sound.

“I don’t wanna hear about that asshole right now,” was all he said, guiding your head back onto his cock, feeling his thighs tremble as he began to reach his edge. 

He glanced over at your phone, wishing that he could snap a few pics, hell, even a quick video of the dirty deed; and send it off to the Cameron son himself in a quick Snapchat. To some it might’ve been trivial; but to a guy like Rafe having the right girl on his arm meant a lot - and, if JJ was to have even the slightest of leverage over him, how could he not take the opportunity to rub it in his face?

“Fuck…” he puffed, lips parted in ecstasy. “Choke on it one more time, baby…”

“JayJ—“ you begged, and he shook his head, solely focused on his release.

“C’mon princess, I know you can do it…Take a deep breath, ‘atta girl —“

It wasn’t long before he spilled down your throat, making you gag and pull your head back in shock. He hastily grabbed his dick and angled it at your face, painting white rivulets across your cheeks and lips as he writhed in pleasure, spewing words and phrases you weren’t sure if he even meant.

As he rode off his high, he scooped some of his cum up in his finger, and you needed no instruction as to what to do next. You stared into his cloudy blue eyes as you sucked his finger, and for a moment you could’ve sworn that there was something - even a flash - of affection. 

Once he pulled the digit out of your mouth, a moment passed before he kissed you; sloppily yet passionate, so much so that you didn’t notice the screen of your phone light up, even in the dimly lit light of your room.

rafe.cameron liked your story

rafe.cameron: Bree said you’re coming to Midsummers. Meet me at the country club tomorrow we need to talk

@juniebugg @lunarzuku (ty for reblogging and tagging part one!<3)

#florence writes!! #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank imagine #obx smut #obx x reader #obx x reader smut #obx imagine

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

So, I'm curious: What's your take on Aylin's experience after/if she kills Lorroakan?

Allegedly, there's some information floating around somewhere that said Aylin was angry with Selune after she killed Lorroakan, but I can't find where this info is.

If you saw posts about that here on tumblr it was probably posted by @justanotherignot! I've actually been meaning to gather up all the devnote tidbits about Selûne from Aylin and Isobel for a while now, so thank you for the excuse to do so and ramble a bit.

Player: I was just wondering what it was like in that cage of Balthazar's. Aylin: Let us not dwell on those dark days. Their memory is a vortex within my heart that leads directly to the Hells.

What is happening is, well, it's the century of unthinkable horror catching up to her. It's the Trauma(TM) - in one of the conversation options she's literally triggered by the mention of someone being run through repeatedly! It's the growing awareness that although she's been freed (and possibly reunited with her love), the secret is out and there are always going to be assholes gunning for her, aiming to use her as an "artefact" and power source to fuel their ambitions, without any regard for her, you know... basic personhood and well-being. Also, Lorroakan was blatantly lying. He didn't find any super special way to siphon her immortality with "no harm, no pain of any kind", he was just replicating Balthazar's soul cage (you can even find a letter from Ketheric to him, showing Lorroakan was pestering them).

On to the stuff from the game files! First, the conversation with Aylin directly after the Lorroakan fight in the tower. I'm going to be putting the context notes in square brackets next to the lines they apply to. I also plucked some audio out from the files for some of these because I love the delivery.

Aylin: The fire-haired fool is dead. Yet as I stare upon his corpse, I feel… sadness. Why? [Slow and curious, angry and confused by all that has happened.] Player: What kind of sadness is it? / I know something of sadness - or at least the ballads do. What does it feel like? Aylin: A gripping in the chest. As though I'd lost someone, something. [Lost in thought for a moment; confused.] Aylin: A paladin's fatigue, no doubt. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side. [Remembering herself. She is Dame Aylin.] Aylin: I will catch my breath, then to camp I will bring my bones. Moonmaiden be with you. Player: Smiting is a weighty duty - sometimes it can be tiring. / Perhaps smiting has lost its pleasures. Aylin: Say it can't be so. For I am Selûne's sword. And ever must be. [She means it, but on the periphery of her consciousness is a tiny crack. Wondering about her fate.]

The above never fails to get me - she is Dame Aylin! Sword of the Moonmaiden! Glorious immortal paladin, champion of a righteous cause! She smites evil-doers for breakfast, that's, like, her whole thing! What do you mean she can't just pick up where she left off and go about her merry smitey way? What do you mean the thing that is supposed to be the literal core of her entire being (forever) doesn't feel good and glorious anymore, but just makes her feel sad and empty? No, no, no, we can't have that.

Player: One of the greatest tragedies of revenge is that it can only be taken once. / Because you won't get to kill him again? Aylin: Perhaps. Yet if I could run him through a thousand times, I wonder-- [Lost in thought, she's been triggered to remember her own fate being run through over and over.] Aylin: Battle has tired my mind, made me susceptible to flights of fancy. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side.

Aylin: I will return to camp shortly. I just need a moment to… to… [Lost in thought.]

She so very desperately needs some rest and a chance to come to terms with everything that happened and that was done to her. And it's clear it's going to be hard because she is defaulting to trying to deny anything is wrong, is clearly trying (and failing) to just be her old self immediately, has blatantly internalised a lot of that classic I Am A Sword stuff on top of everything (even though her mother is huge on free will and choice!), and is just really not well-equipped to handle any of this at all.

Next, this is the post-Lorroakan convo you get if you have both Aylin and Isobel in camp.

Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just regaling sweet Isobel with tales of our prowess. Isobel: Very impressive. Thank you for helping Aylin - that wizard sounded absolutely dastardly. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - she's not sure why Aylin isn't herself.] Player: My pleasure. He had it coming. Aylin: He did, and it came. Now, my friend: bask in your victory. I will do the same. Aylin: But fear not: when the time comes for you to face the foe of foes, Isobel and I will stand by your side. [Rallying her soldierly spirit, but still a little drained.] Isobel: We wouldn't miss it. Not for anything. Aylin: Go well, friend. We will see you soon. And with our great powers combined, this city will be saved. Player: Hopefully he'll be the last. Aylin: There are always more bastards behind bastards. But we will run through them all, each by each.

Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: I always do, with darling Isobel by my side. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of Lorroakan's death in your mind like silkfloss.

If Isobel isn't there (meaning she died in Act 2), you get this version:

Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just reviewing our fight against foul Lorroakan; your moves and mine. The victory was soundly won. Aylin: Don't you think? [Uncharacteristically, Aylin is seeking input. She's usually so confident about everything, but killing Lorroakan has not had the intended effect on her.] Player: Indeed I do. Let his demise serve as a warning to anyone else who'd seek you out. Aylin: Let him be the last. If my dear mother has any mercy, she will ensure it. [Trying to stay her usual self, but her mask is cracking a tiny bit here. Privately, Aylin is dealing with a great deal of anger toward her mother, the goddess Selûne, But she's not yet willing to face it. How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?]

Player: We fought well - though I was a little worried about you afterward, in truth. Aylin: Set your mind at ease, my friend. Dame Aylin is more well now than she has been this past century. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - it's true she's better now than she has been, but why does she feel so shitty, then? (She's in the beginning of reckoning with the trauma of what happened to her).]

Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: Yes. I wish for the very same. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of our prowess in your mind like silkfloss.

So, a few things pop out for me here. First, you get the more explicit anger at Selûne if Isobel isn't there, as opposed to the "hahah, I will smite all the bastards who dare come after me, no matter how many there are" line. "How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?" just... damn, hits hard, even if you subscribe to the theory that Selûne simply could not intervene in the Shadowfell imprisonment beyond sending those poor people whose graves you find in front of the mausoleum.

And here Aylin really lays it on thick with the denial that there's anything wrong at all. Combined with the letter you get from her in the epilogue if Isobel is dead, it just paints such a bleak, sad picture. I can just see her going all out on the Sword of Selûne duty-bound paladin side of things, no rest, no healing, no stopping even for a moment, no dealing with anything at all, from the trauma to the bitterness towards mum. Until whatever horrible breaking point comes, a year or a century from now. The need for Isobel's humanising influence is so clear. I've touched on Isobel's side of things here.

Speaking of having a bone to pick with Selûne, if you're playing as a cleric/paladin of Selûne, you can get some extra very honest dialogue with Isobel in Last Light:

Player: Why has the Moonmaiden waited until now to take an interest in this curse? Isobel: Maybe she was waiting for one of us to find this place ourselves. Free will, and all that.

Isobel: Though if it were my place to ask why she let Ketheric turn; why she allowed this village to rot at his hands - believe me, I would. [A cold edge in her voice]

Player: Are you faring all right? It can't be easy holding a lone candle in such darkness. Isobel: All things with her strength. You know the litany. [A little sarcastically. She's got a bone to pick with Selûne but isn't being too overt.]

Side note: the amount of devnotes for Isobel's lines that say she's delivering them "with swagger" and being "cheeky" makes me smile every time. Love her. Love her snark.

Also, to get it out of the way: no, I'm fairly sure Aylin did not break her oath. I see this brought up a ton and I just see no way for it to be the case. There is nothing to suggest this outside of a wording similarity and it just makes no sense. Girl is clearly some flavour of Oath of Vengeance (she uses Abjure Enemy, so this is the case even mechanically, even though she's obviously an NPC and not a standard player-build paladin) and she killed a very shitty guy who was also explicitly after her in godawful ways. You can do far worse things in the game than her dramatic speech and backbreaker and not break you OoV.

#sorry this took so long! #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #dame aylin #isobel thorm #lorroakan #datamine #voice lines #audio #i'm stopping myself here but i could go on about this FOREVER #time for the comfort part of the hurt/comfort let's goooooooooo #oathkeeper replies to things

[rebelliousstories]

Ten Thousand Candles

Kiss Me You Animal

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Zylia “The Freak” Shelley

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Strong Language, Mentions of Death and Killing

Word Count: 711

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

//Chapter Two//

Kiss Me You Animal Masterlist: Here

Summary: Cooper is not too sure if he is impressed or fed up with this new girl. Probably both.

Have you ever seen someone who just looks like if you say the wrong thing, no matter how small, they would hurt you and everyone in the immediate vicinity? That was Cooper Howard right now. He was tearing through the town faster than a bat out of hell, trailing after a girl. Why was he following this girl? Because just a few minutes ago they met, as she stole his bounty that she was now cashing in on.

Walking into town, he just caught the trail of the unearthly colored hair disappearing into the shop where the bounty originated. He gritted his teeth, and waited outside until she was to return. Cooper found a rocking chair, and waited. He was a patient man, and that was being put to the test as he sat there. Most people passed by him without so much as a glance, but others took one look at him and scurried away. It did not much matter to him anymore. He had two hundred years to come to terms with his new state.

Seeing her white hair come through the door, he took note and noticed her shoving something in her bag. He stood up slowly, marching his way up to her while she was distracted.

“Well, gotta say, sure as shit been a long time since someone stole my bounty from right under me.” Howard drawled, almost jovial in his speech. The woman’s head whipped up to see The Ghoul in front of her once more.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so slow then, Ghoulie.” She teased, finding joy in annoying him.

“I wasn’t slow,” he growled, “you were just a sneaky little minx who can’t keep her sticky fingers away from what’s not hers.” Cooper stepped closer to the woman, assessing whether or not he needed to draw his gun. But she just laughed.

“That ain’t how I remember it.” The still unknown woman got even closer to Cooper, and toyed with the edge of his jacket. He snatched it away, and stepped away with a flourish.

“Now, only time Imma tell you. Give me the caps that you got paid for my bounty, and we’ll be on our way.” His hand rested on his pistol while the other was outstretched.

“And if I don’t give you my caps for my bounty?” She replied, brushing a hand through her hair nonchalantly.

“I’d hate to kill someone as pretty as you now darlin’.” Cooper smiled, and hoped she would do the right thing. As she stood there, contemplating, The Ghoul was steadily losing his patience. She came closer and closer to his outstretched gloved hand, until it was resting right against her stomach. Sifting through her bag, she placed a singular bottle cap in his hand and closed his fingers around it.

“For you troubles. Name’s Zylia, by the way. Next time don’t be so slow.” The now named woman patted Cooper on the shoulder, and began to walk away from him. However, he had different plans. Howard stood there with the cap in his hand, and a million thoughts running through his head. Pocketing the cap, he turned to where Zylia was walking away.

“Do you have a death wish?” He called, making her stop for a brief moment. Even from all this distance, the pink eyes she held pierced his very soul.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” Zylia responded, toying with a strand of hair.

“Do you know who I am?” Cooper questioned again, fully turning his body to face her.

“No. Should I?” Once more, his patience was being tested. Cooper moved his duster out of the way and rested a hand on his pistol that was still holstered.

“Little girl, I’m really not in the mood for this. Give me the caps.” He repeated, fully ready for a shoot out.

“Little girl? Well, I might be little, but not young enough to be a girl. I’m just gonna be on my way if that’s alright with you, Ghoul.” Again, Zylia turned around and began to walk away from the man. He chuckled softly, before drawing his pistol and aiming it at the girl.

It all happened in a flash, but the sound was one that was an everyday occurrence in the Wastelands.

Bang!

#rebelliousstories #writing #cooper the ghoul howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard x oc #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul x oc #fallout imagine #fallout

[stromuprisahat]

Can you help me to understand the tether between Alina and Aleksander? I've seen people say that it was formed when he collared her but if that's true then why not use it when she's on the run from him? I always thought that's why he got his nichevo'ya to wound her and why he thanked her, because it allowed that connection to form. Am I wrong here?

Okay, well, I'm still re-reading, but...

They're written as two halves of the same whole. They're supposed to be complimentary opposites, that's why Aleksander's waiting for the Sun Summoner instead of settling for just any immortal, why he believes they're meant to be even after encountering other immortals' different worldviews and Alina's refusal to accept her own greatness. She won't only live long, they're bound by the Making, so she's predisposed to ~understand~ (And there are moments, when she does. Only her upbringing, issues and moral police companions prevent her from embracing what's between them.).

The first clear sign of their interconnection's showed during Winter Fete, although from the wording, I've missed at least two earlier ones:

The moment his lips met mine, the connection between us opened and I felt his power flood through me. I could feel how much he wanted me—but behind that desire, I could feel something else, something that felt like anger. I drew back, startled. “You don’t want to be doing this.” “This is the only thing I want to be doing,” he growled, and I could hear the bitterness and desire all tangled up in his voice. “And you hate that,” I said with a sudden flash of comprehension. He sighed and leaned against me, brushing my hair back from my neck. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, his lips grazing my ear, my throat, my collarbone.

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 14

"... the connection between us ..." suggests it's something Alina figured out exists before this time, so she didn't experience it only once.

Then there's the Collar that gives Aleksander access to Alina's powers, although it's not exactly clear how it works.

I had spared the stag’s life. The power of that life belonged to me as surely as it belonged to the man who had taken it. ... The Darkling looked momentarily confused. He narrowed his eyes, and I felt his will descend on me again, felt that invisible hand grasping. I shrugged it off. It was nothing. He was nothing.

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 19

Like: Sorry honey, either the power belongs to you both, or you have the upper hand.

I would kill for Aleksander's LOGICAL explanation.

The nichevo'ya bite deepened the Bond, that's why Sasha did it. My guess is it might be something about merzost affecting the Making, therefore the connection formed by it, AND the tiny little detail the creatures might be created with use of said force, but from his own being. He's basically running around donating his body fluids essence to his closest "enemies"... *wink wink*

We don't know more than what he tells Alina, so perhaps he could feel her presence before that. Perhaps Alina's youth and inexperience played bigger part in her use of their connection, than we think. Perhaps her many issues did. (I hate repeating this phrase, but THE WASTED POTENTIAL!) Why tell your stubbornly uncooperating soulmate you have an in-build compass to help you track them, if they left a trail of more profane kind?

#reply #Grishaverse #Darklina #The Tether #The Darkling #Alina Starkov #grishanalyticritical #S&B Chapter 14 #S&B Chapter 19 #books #quotes #Leigh Bardugo #He's a bit of a spiritual whore. #You've crossed me? #I'll punish you with black goo from my own soul!

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 21

chapter 36:

1. “It's been so long. Oh, there you are, here you are, hi,” *deep breath* AHHHHHHHHH

2. 😭😭😭 “Remus keeps a firm grip on him and turns around to promptly leave, which is probably a little rude, considering that the others are here and may wish to greet him, but he honestly can't bring himself to care about that right now” i would expect nothing less

3. WOLFSTAR REUNION!!!! I AM IN SHAMBLES!

4. “On the way, James glances back with a grin, internally wishing Sirius all the good things, because no one deserves them more.”

oh. wow. that’s such a soft line. it’s literally making me melt

5. “Remus could not be more in love if he tried.” shit shit shit shit sobbing. wolfstar deserves the world

6. “He does love Sirius, though. Loves him dearly, with every defiant bone in his body. This man, who doesn't even realize the importance of what he's just done by giving Remus an unopened envelope. Remus, who owns nothing. Remus, who has nothing. Remus, who is not granted privacy or freedom for anything like this, for anything at all.”

i am on PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION and i am BAWLING my eyes out as silently as i possibly can. y’all don’t understand the restraint i have right now to not loudly sob

7. the LETTER has me CRYING

8. THE SECRET MESSAGE

9. oh, okay. remus killed an auror/greyback. it’s honestly not as bad as i thought it would be. also, i love the lily and remus duo. they’re so iconic

10. i LOVE LOVE LOVE that zar made a point for sirius to have the discussion that his demisexuality is NOT because of trauma and he’s always been that way. it’s beautiful <3

11. “”You can ask Regulus and James; I walked around for a solid month making everyone call me Mr. Sirius Macdonald."” STOP PLSS THATS SO FUNNY

12. SIRIUS JUST TOLD REMUS HE LOVED HIM!!! this is literally so sweet

13. andjskjdksksjsms the authors note:

“sirius, internally: a guillotine could not sever the head im about to give this man. good for them 😌”

chapter 37:

1. i’m starting a gofundme to get regulus a balcony

2. "”Sirius doesn't let me drink," James replies flatly.

"Well, don't say it like that, James. You make it sound like I'm a strict parent, or a controlling spouse," Sirius grumbles. "And I do let you drink, in moderation, when you're in a safe environment and in a good mental state. Don't forget to mention that you only let me drink within those same rules."”

i bet james is upset with the rules he made for sirius so long ago. came back to bite him in the ass

3. describing sirius as “ruffled like an offended bird” has done wonders for my mental health

4. james, remus, and sirius are all hanging out and i am beyond angry that peter doesn’t get to share this moment

5. pandora is such an angel and doesn’t deserve this pain

6. pandora and reg friendship >>>>>>>>>

7. their outfits for the night!! every last one of them is slaying so hard

8. “There's a tense moment where a group of murderers all stare around at each other, not opposed to adding a few more names to their lists. Oh, and Pandora is there, too, startlingly calm despite this.”

yaxley needs to shut his fucking mouth and stop implying that sirius will fuck his way through issues

9. “"You know what they'll assume we're doing."

"Running away," Regulus mutters.

James sighs in exasperation and fond amusement. "No, Reg. Fucking. They'll assume we've snuck off to find a corner to go fuck in."”

😭😭😭😭😭 i love reg. he’s so ready to leave

10. jegulus is getting their shit together and improving. i’m so glad

11. “James swallows. "They're—they destroy things now, when they never did before. They're rough sometimes. Bloody."

"Warm," Regulus counters, pressing another kiss to James' shaking fingers. "Steady. Strong. These hands hold the people you love. These hands care for them. They're gentle. Tender."”

this is love. what they have is love. it’s messy and broken and so difficult, but they’re trying and it’s love

12. and once again we have wolfstar my true loves ☺️☺️

i feel like nows a good time to add to respect bizzarestars’ wishes to not have the fic reposted or reuploaded a different site. i can’t remember his wishes about bookbinding, but respect those as well.

thank you, lovely people

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #fanfic #jegulus #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #sunseeker #starchaser #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood #crimson rivers

[their-little-writer]

“I’m here now, my deer”

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

hi, this was requested so I hope you all like it! Not proof read

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

This week was a rough week for you- there have been a lot of issues and chaos going on lately due to the extermination coming up lately. Auntie Charlie and vaggie have been running around and trying to figure out a plan. Uncle husk and big brother angel/ sir pentious have been making weapons and trying to build protection to help protect the hotel and you papa has been making sure things have been going ok and has been going to a lot of meetings with the overloads so you have been alone a lot this week. Heck you even got put in time out a few times because you were upset that no one was around and that your papa was missing.  

Like he was there for a few small moments at a time, and he always put you to bed but you still missed him and wanted to spend more time with him. This wasn’t fair to you; you were just a small little baby. You shouldn't be alone; you should be in papa's arms while he sings you soft songs as he feeds you a bottle. But no, you were in your tiny room all by yourself.  

It was in the late afternoon; the sun was beaming through the windows of your nursery, and you were in your crib. You had just woken up from your nap and you were not having it right now, 

you had a dream where people were saying icky things to you and your Carrers just watched and didn't say anything. You had tears in your eyes that were soon running down your face, and you were whining as you held your blanky close to you. Before you could roll over and see you heard the door open  “Sweet pea...?” you heard a familiar voice say as they walked over to you. When you looked up you saw your papa, he smiled softly but you could tell in his eyes he looked a little worried for you. “What is wrong my dear...?” He asked as he gently picked you up from your crib, with your blanket around you. You tried to use your words however you couldn't, there had been to much going on and you couldn't bear it anymore, you just felt your tiny self-get to overwhelmed and started to cry into your papas shoulder.   

“Now now my little deer what's the matter..?” he asked as he gently rubbed his hand over your back trying to calm down “Did you have a bad dream..?” he asked as he gently swayed with you. You nodded your tiny little head softly “Aw your poor thing.. Lets get you a bottle made..” he said as he gently carried you in his arms to the kitchen as he started to make you a bottle.  

He gently fed you as he carried you back to your room and sat in the nursery. It stayed quite for awhile however once you were done he sat the bottle on a side table as gently rubbed your back as you laid on his chest “Why did you have a bad dream my little fawn?” he asked softly. Words were  hard since you were small right now, so feeling bad you gently pointed at him. “Me..?” he asked softly as he tried to think about it. “Is it because ive been busy..?” he asked, and when you gave a small nod he felt horrible “I know ive been busy my little fawn... im so sorry i dont mean to be...it must be hard for you since its been so crazy..” You nodded again as a small sigh left your mouth.  

“I promise i will try to be here more my little deer..” He said softly. “What would you like to do today my little fawn.. We can do anything you want to...” alastor said as he gently looked over to you. You bable softly in respone, a soft smile on alastors face as you do “Hm, that sounded like music, am i right?” he asked. You cooed at his answer which basically meant yes so with a smile he gently got you up and carried you to your changing table “ok baby fawn but you gotta get changed first, and then we can ok?”. You nodded softly as he changed you and put you in a onesie, then he grabbed your blanky, paci, and stuffie as he made his way to his raido tower. He opend the window softly as he went and sat in his chair as he turned on his raido which turned on soft lullubys for you as he gently swayed with you and your stuffie. 

The night was peaceful as later made you dinner, read you books, and gave you a bubble bath, because no matter how busy he was, Alastor always made time for you, after all he was your papa, and you were his fawn.  

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

#agere #little!reader #age regressor #age regression #agere blog #sfw agere #agere community #sfw interaction only #sfw littlespace #sfw regression #agere little #age re safe space #age regression blog #age regression caregiver #age regression community #age regression moodboard #age regression sfw #agere activities #agere board #agere caregiver #agere fic #agere headcanons #agere outfits #agere positivity #agere post #agere prompts #agere moodboard #agere sfw #fandom agere #hazbin hotel agere

[factual-fantasy]

10 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🌞

AHEHEHE KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING LIKE A DORK AT THIS 😭😭💞🥺💖💖 THANK YOU SO MCUH!! I DO MY BEST TO MAKE THE EXPRESSIONS KF THE CHARACTERS READABLE AND DRIPPING WITJ EMOTION SO IM GLAD ITS WORKING!! :DD ✨💞✨💖✨

@gummysusie

Oh there's lots I'd be willing to eat if I had to! XDD

My memory ain't the best but off the top of my head-- I'm sure eating miltank meat wouldn't disturb me so much! :0

I like fish so there's a lot of those I'd be willing to try! Magikarp, uhhh those two grumpy fish that are either green/red or green/blue! I forgot the name..

Of course all of the food themed ones would be relatively no problem. Fidough, Milcery.. There's some bird ones that wouldn't be too upsetting too! XDD

As long as my brain relates them to earthly animals, I'm not too disturbed by the thought of eating them XD Im sure they have to eat pokemon in the actual pokemon universe! Where else do their meat based dishes come from? How else do they feed their carnivorous pokemon??

@girlsackthing

Not recently :(( but I'd like to pick it up again someday once I'm feeling better! :}}

@illogically-austere

Hey thanks for checking in, that means a lot 🥹

I'm hanging in there as best I can. I haven't eaten much but am getting plenty of water and rest! I'm hoping this horrible health trial thingy I've been going through is over soon <:}}

@sussyhahag

y a l i k e j a z z ?

@littlelightfish

Hey pal, I hope You're doing alright! Hang in there.. <:}}

I haven't worked much on Tuna's backstory recently.. but I imagined that his blood family was gone.. he lived on a ship with a real rotten crew that was horrible to him.

As for how he joined Seafoam's crew, I imagined that the crew rescued him somehow. Maybe Tuna's old crew attacked Seafoam's crew but he kicked their butts. Perhaps in all the chaos Tuna was left behind by "mistake", only for Foam to welcome him aboard?

Maybe his old crew got too intense and he ran, somehow running into Seafoam and he offered shelter? Or maybe his old ship sank and he was found by Seafoam..? Something along those lines-- XD

Anywho- thank you! Things are starting to look up for me, I'm hoping this journey is almost over! <:}}

@raven-bearden-the-interviewer42

"Seafoam's heart 🥰..... Metaphorically I mean-"

I would assume so! :0 Maybe a cookie like that already exists in the games!

Well that's hard to say.. I usually draw comics all in one pass. I sketch out the entire comic, and then I go back and draw all the line art, and then I go back and color it all in..

So in that sense 1 drawing for a comic could take days to complete. But if I were to focus on just one panel/drawing? I would guesstimate about 10-15 minutes :0

Now my name! My memory is a little foggy.. but one of my favorite things to do in drawing is to apply logic, reason and explanations for things.

For example, Captain Barnacles! He's a polar bear wearing a full suit and lives out in the Pacific Ocean. Obviously there's a lot that doesn't make sense about that- but mainly the fact that Barnacles would be way too hot!

So I remedy this by making my version of Barnacles have very short fur, a special diet that thins out his blubber, and a special suit that helps keep him cool! It's not perfect obviously but it helps make him living out in the Pacific seem more reasonable. Which is what I love to do, and how I thought of my name! Applying fact to fantasy, Factual Fantasy!

Hm, Bibi's worst fear.. that would have to be something bad happening to me or any of the fam I'd assume <XD

Nothing bad actually happened to Red, that nightmare just manifested because she loves/worries about him so much 🥺💞 Like a mother having dreams about their children getting hurt. Nothing exactly happened to cause it, but they just worry about their babies so much that those dreams happen sometimes..

And lastly, thank you! It's looking good that I might finally get out of this pit. So my spirits are high! :}}

@beryl-shade (sorry for the late response! <:D)

He typically will not allow it 😅 I originally had a drawing idea for this ask but I dont have the strength to get to my PC so I can just explain it!-

I imagined Octo and some of the crew all tied to chairs with some other pirates taunting them. Octo looks very bored and very unintimidated.

Well one of the pirates makes the mistake of grabbing one of Octos tentacles and twirling it around. Octo immediately reacts and uses the other tentacles on his head to restrain his hand and start choking the guy-

The rest of the crew is just laughing and calling that pirate an idiot while he continues to struggle to get away from the angry Octo 🤣

Now on the other hand, if he gets a joking pat on the head from Seafoam? Or if Red is up on his shoulders and he pulls on Octo's hair by mistake? Eh, whatever he doesn't mind much. : '

#my response #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs

[universe-friday]

EXCERPT #28:

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I haven’t seen her since I last spoke to you, old sport. It’s been harder to wander the streets of the City these days. It’s been harder to get up and get the day started. Thalia and I were so close… We went from spending all our time with each other, to not speaking for days at a time.

What possible reason could she have…? For someone who cares the same way, she certainly doesn’t enjoy showing it.

It is so hard to read her mind. She doesn’t give me much to base any guesses on… If only she would talk to me. Have a conversation with me. One that doesn’t lead to her deflecting, or running away.

Every time I think we’re so close, but then the tide just goes back in again. And when that wave comes crashing back into shore, are we ever able to ebb and flow the way we once did?

Or am I back to drowning, waves crashing into my lungs I am no longer able to scream…? Did she ever hear me? Can she hear me?

I suppose I never recalled walking to the beach in the first place, old sport. But I found comfort in the waves. I found myself in the waves.

[A small and distant knock is heard in the background. Equipment rattles. Radio stutters in astonishment.]

Hello…?

THALIA: Can I come in…?

[Beat.]

THALIA:  Please, Radio. Can we talk?

RADIO: …Okay. Come in.

[Door squeaks open, footsteps approach.]

RADIO: Hold on. Let me just mute this call quickly.

[A button is pressed, but sound continues to play. A chair squeaks and footsteps get further away. A conversation begins from afar, distant and quiet.]

THALIA: Radio, I… I am so sorry.

RADIO: I know. You say this every time… Do you want to get to a point?

THALIA: I want to be with you. But… I can’t.

RADIO: What do you mean, Thalia? What do you mean, ‘you can’t’?

THALIA: I mean that I can’t. I care for you… So much. I have never met anyone else like you. But, I just can’t be with you.

RADIO: I don’t understand… That makes zero sense, Thalia.

THALIA: I know. And I’m sorry. I can’t… I can’t explain it very well. I just- I have other commitments-

RADIO: Other commitments?

THALIA: In the City. And I-

RADIO: What can even be meant by ‘other commitments’? There’s someone else?

THALIA: No, Radio. There’s no one else. I just… I can’t be with you.

RADIO: We’re in the City… What possible- What do you mean… I… How could you have other commitments? You don’t have time? How is it possible to have that problem here, Thalia? I run out of things to keep myself occupied, stuck here. And with you gone, even fewer things. And I just have to be stuck here while you go and do other stuff? Leave me, even though I love you?

[Silence. A quiet, but suppressed sob is heard as it breaks past Radio’s boundaries.]

THALIA: It’ll pass…

RADIO: But what if-

THALIA: I love you too. And it’ll pass.

[A much louder sob is heard. It comes from both Radio and Thalia, this time.]

RADIO: [Quietly, through tears] Will I ever see you again…?

[Beat.]

THALIA: I think… that wouldn’t be good for either of us.

[The conversation fades into radio static. After a while, this fades to silence. Until a melody softly begins to play.]

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore Why aren’t you listening? Why aren’t you listening to me? There’s nothing left. ♪

#aled last #alice oseman #frances janvier #osemanverse #radio silence #universe city #universe city podcast #carys last #february friday #original work #universe friday excerpts #universe city excerpt #letters to february #universe friday #osemanverse books #original story #original fiction #daniel jun #hstv #aled and frances

[ceasarslegion]

The DNI that made you do math to use it?? 👀👀👀

Youre the first one who asked, so you get the answer.

This person was one of the other two weirdos from the Half Life RP discord server i teased at in this post earlier this week:

Once again, i want to disclaimer that this is not a callout post, I will not be giving any details that could be used to identify this person, and I will not be posting screenshots this time because they are still active on tumblr afaik. I dont want this to be used to bully anybody, this is just meant to be my personal experience with my specific side of this story. You can DM me directly or throw in a private answer request in an ask if you want screenshots, but only people i already know and trust not to cyberbully them will get a direct link to the DNI. The person in the story I linked is no longer active anywhere online, which is why I provided screenshots in that story.

And before i lay out the DNI details, I just want to say... there is a FINE LINE between requesting accommodations for a mental illness and infantilizing yourself. I can handle the former just fine, I will do all I can to help, but if you're a grown-ass adult babying yourself and then going "waa im autistic i cant do anything" i have ZERO tolerance for that. Buddy, I'm autistic, and I'm telling you to grow the fuck up.

Yeah, this person was one of those. They were over 18, and had public breakdowns about how everything was just soooo hard for them and everybody else was being problematic and ableist for *checks notes* asking them to wait in a line that was a little long for a new phone plan. Real example, they were screaming and crying in the vent channel because the line at a verizon store was a little long, and implying their father was ableist for asking them to wait for 20 minutes. Buddy, there are some things you JUST need to deal with in the real world regardless of whatever mental soup you have going on. If your autism is that bad, the solution is looking into things like noise canceling headphones, sunglasses, etc. But the world will not stop having lines that you just need to wait in sometimes because you dont like them.

I know that sounds harsh, but they werent exactly the type of person im willing to give the benefit of the doubt to. The majority of their problems were entirely their own fault, and they were clearly enabling and feeding the harder parts of their autism rather than doing anything in the way of learning to cope with it. I am terrified of spiders, like full on panic-inducing terrified of them, but I throw hands at them instead of running or freezing up. One time, I posted a photo of this gigantic-ass spider that was in my dorm room after I screamed and squashed it with my heavy duty winter outdoor patrol boots (im a security guard, not a cop, before anyone draws the wrong conclusion from that), and they proceeded to vague about me IN THE SAME SERVER about how problematic and insensitive i am for triggering their arachnophobia. My brother in christ when did you ever say you were triggered by spiders? Do you expect me to read your fucking mind?

Another instance was when they asked for the role to access the nsfw channel. They were over 18, so it was granted. They then got mad at us whenever we got horny on main in the sex channel because they were only there for the dirty jokes (that were posted in the main server anyway because none of us consider JOKES to be inappropriate). They literally asked for the sex channel role and then claimed we were being problematic because we talked about sex in the sex channel when they were uncomfortable with sex. And they had borderline puritan attitudes around sex. They acted like sex was icky and gross and should never be discussed around them lest it corrupt their pure innocent soul. Yeah thats your own fault chief, grow the fuck up.

Some lightning round stories: they broke up with their boyfriend purely because he liked "irredeemable media" and when said boyfriend said they were being a total dick for that, they proceeded to whine and cry that he was actually being abusive and terrible for being upset that he was dumped over the fucking movies he liked of all things. They once sat outside their little siblings recital and complained that their parents were problematic for not charging their switch enough because it died at the same recital they couldnt be assed to sit in for because "waaaa its too boring and thats bad for my autism." Didnt even TRY, just sat outside the door playing switch and then complained that their parents didnt charge their switch enough. Can you not plug something into a wall your damn self.

Needless to say, i didnt like them very much. I can handle legitimate accommodations, but they were just so self-infantilising that they gave the rest of us a bad name. Your autism is not an excuse to act like a fucking baby. You are not made of porcelain, you will not shatter at the slightest touch, being uncomfortable is a part of life youre going to have to deal with. Its not your autism at this point, youre a grown-ass adult who throws a tantrum when the line is a little long. GROW. UP.

Now that that rants over, lets get into what the DNI on their blog was like, because this behavior from them that I just outlined really contextualizes it.

Their DNI had two tiers. The first was "red flags," which meant that if you met any one of them you apparently werent allowed to interact. Of this included your typical nazis, pedophiles, terfs, and... beastars fans. No word of a lie. Being a fan of beastars was apparently just as bad as being a nazi. What did my boy legosi do to you? (Side note: i am forever enamored with how these people seem to think that theres people out there who both self-identify as nazis and would respect a DNI. I didnt even respect that DNI. I didnt interact with them because i thought they were a terrible person, but i did not take that DNI seriously. I was openly posting about beastars in the same server LMAO) and it wasn't just beastars, there was a ton of media that i didnt even know had discourse around them that they listed as red flags if you ever touched. Amazing.

The second tier was "yellow flags" which meant that you werent allowed to interact if you met any 3 or more of them. Here was mostly media, including homestuck fans, neil gaiman fans (WHAT DID NEIL DO TO YOU), and harry potter iirc. (WHY DID YOU SINGLE OUT BEASTARS?? WHAT DID MY BOY LEGOSI DO TO YOU) my favourite part of this though, was that republicans were listed under yellow flags. Apparently its worse to be a beastars fan than a republican. We arent gonna fucking make it

#ramblings

[helluvabinge]

Trailer Deep Dive

OK, prediction time. Spoilers if you haven't seen the trailer yet.

Take a look and let me know your predictions.

Let's start with the episode list.

Full Moon is, I think, clearly going to be the Blitz and Stolas breakup.

And I think it's going to hurt, because Blitz is showing up all dressed up and with a candle, that he probably picked out with Fizz's help.

So like... he's finally turning the romance on for once. Has he realized he wants to be with Stolas JUST before Stolas decides to end things? Yup, this is going to rip out my heart.

But also, clearly Blitz says some hurtful things back to Stolas becase next episode is Apology Tour.

Where we get Stolas singing in front of the words "Blitz Sucks."

I'm guessing the stuff where Stolas is in this robe is also from this episode since he looks so irritated with Blitz, but I also have another theory for later...

Because next comes Ghost Fuckers, which is I think where this stuff is going to fit in...

My theory is that the Goetia realize that Stolas has given Blitz and his crew access to the mortal world and try to put a stop to it. They summon Stolas to answer for his actions and, when they try to apprehend Blitz, the crew escapes to the mortal world.

Once there, they find some human disguises and try to lay low, only to find themselves mistaken for ghost hunters at a haunted hotel. (I don't have any screenshots of that because I think it's just going to be a fun and silly episode)

I'm also going to throw out a wild theory that Stolas gets imprisoned and that's what this shot is all about.

I am absolutely LESS confident in this theory than any of the others I mentioned, but it just looks a little mystical prisony. Or it could just be a shot in a musical number. But if it's a prison, I'll circle back to this in the finale.

EDIT - Nope, this is from Full Moon. I just saw the early release of the duet, so apparently I was wrong about this being the prison thing. Though to be fair, I still think Stolas and/or Blitz gets locked up before the finale, but whatever. We'll see.

But before any of that of course, while the crew is up on earth, they have to run into DORKS and (yay!) CHERUB. So excited for this episode. I'm guessing they have another interrogation that will rip our hearts out for Blitz with all of this shit -

But it does seem like our team will get out of it just fine.

So on to the finale!

Sinmas is going to be fun.

Remember how I mentioned earlier I would come back to the Stolas in a bathrobe thing? Well, that area does look vaguely like the possible mystical prison I mentioned earlier. If Stolas does end up in priosn, I'm thinking the parts with him in his bathrobe shown earlier could also be him in this prison, being bitchy to Blitz because they got caught. Again, I'm less confident in this theory. (See the Edit above - I don't think this is what happens anymore) But maybe Blitz shows up to get him out after dealing with all the trauma DORKS forced him to pull back up, because this scene DEFINITELY looks like Blitz finally dealing with his trauma and apologizing to his dead mom.

I'm split on whether this will happen in Sinmas or Mastermind. Makes sense structurally to put it in Mastermind, but it would also be a good emotional beat for the finale to see Blitz finally confronting his guilt over his mom's death.

And as for the action...

Is that Satan?

I'm so ready for this.

#helluva boss #helluva stolas #helluva blitzo #stolitz #stolas #blitzo #helluva boss trailer #helluva boss spoilers #helluva fizzarolli #fizzarolli

[dravidious]

You're awesome

I'm getting back into Monster Hunter Generations Ultimate and I made an armor set using Gore Magala armor with the Zinogre helm and gloves. It gives me extra evasion and boosts my stats. I call it the Dark Lightning Armor

#asks #i am once again running out of things to say #anyway armor skills are harder to get in older monster hunter games #so it's way more satisfying when you actually make a good set #usually i just slap together whatever armor pieces have the highest defense lol #i don't actually make armor sets until the post game #because otherwise my armor becomes worthless as i progress and unlock stronger armor #it'd be wasted effort #i like evasion #it's SUPER satisfying to just roll through attacks #adept style exists but it's so dramatic #like you dodge the attack and it's all WOOSH WOW YOU DID IT YOU PRESSED B #the animation is so slow #with evasion you just slide right through that attack like a ghost #like a hot knife through butter #so smooth #so quick #beautiful #i've missed evasion #i can't use it in monster hunter world because my computer is so laggy #there's like half a second of lag #can't time my roll properly #it's gonna be so good to be rolling through attacks again #i have yet to actually use the armor tho #literally just made it 10 minutes ago

[ssaalexblake]

13 is an utter awful rat to Graham in It Takes You Away, she treats him horrifically as she loses her patience and therefore temper with him and never bothers to apologise for it, but nobody notices because she didn't raise her voice and it wasn't in a situation where she'd be expected to mother him, so it sailed over peoples heads. She lost her temper and she got Mean. She didn't get shouty, she got mean. She's not a yeller when she lets her anger loose, she's sharp and cruel and so very deliberate. And that doesn't track with peoples stereotypes of women, does it? Women are shouty and Shrill when they're angry, apparently.

She does it to the master in the timeless children, she's sharp and mean and cruel and never once raises her voice when she does it (she actually lowers her voice when she's being really mean btw). This did Not happen when you're thinking it did. Not in the matrix room. She had no idea she was scoring a hit against him there because she didn't understand what he was thinking (because he'd deliberately mislead her). It was in another part of the episode. She scores a hit and almost makes him cry and nobody cares or notices because it's not in a situation where she's supposed to be mothering him while he's all sad. He was being a jerk, she hit out deliberately below the belt and won that round, the end.

It's no that I think 13 isn't at times objectively shitty as a person, because she IS, she certainly was to Graham in the moment above. It's just that instead of looking at the Actual moments on screen when she sucks and dragging her for being shitty person, people have to resort to making up things to accuse her of that are Very gendered (as in, things women are going to get slammed for in society based upon sexist ideology) that never even happen, simply because they didn't pay enough attention to notice her being a crappy Person to drag her for that/they don't actually care if she's in general a lousy person at all.

Because they don't Want her to be a crappy person, that doesn't achieve anything.

They want her to be a crappy Woman.

#dw shit #i am not going to say when in itya it is. To make a point. #or point out Exactly when it was in ttc either #she also treats Hanne badly in itya by using her as an opportunity to teach ryan things imo!! #you don't leave a scared kid alone with somebody they don't like just to teach that person to play better with others doctor #doing so almost got hanne killed and honestly she could have hurt ryan running away as well #13 is exceptionally callous but despite people slamming her All the time i next to never see it mentioned #there is So much shittiness to 13 but people don't notice bc she's a crap Person not a crap ~Woman~ by values of a sexist society's #version of a crap woman (of which i do not endorse) #so we... make up gendered things to slam her for??? #so bonkers #once again if i'm not talking about you i am not talking about you

[munamania]

best part of my day is gonna be the massive hit of pillow and blanky when i get home from work

#getting up was so painful today. and well yes it was probably made worse by going to dinner for my friends birthday last night #where EYE had to be bitchy abt service ppl bc it's the worst restaurant ever run by college students. #ok it was like two minutes of me being bitchy and saying 'go be a mean boyfriend abt it' but i was justified. #anyways. took forever to get out of there. woke up so many times during the night #maybe cause my body was anxious id miss my shift idk. and i wouldve only been sleeping for like. 5 hours max #and i cant lie some joy was restored in my heart talking to some of our buddies and i felt like a person again briefly #and im making myself do more things today even tho i barely wanna go to class. but that will be #once again after an amazing wonderful nap #just gotta make it thru this shift.. and well brother i am just sitting here #will not fall asleep #abby talks

[lesless]

Today was very taxing & busy but I woke up & ran like I promised myself I would & I was rewarded with a beautiful sunrise.

#me #then I went to the dentist #& kinda grouched at my partner but we are good & I adore him #& I worked a fuckload & out of the blue my boss asked if I was OK #which is nice but it made me anxious #like am I acting stressed? I am a bit #did I say something that someone mentioned to her? #did the person running the stress seminar tell her I attended?? #I took my quiz for class & got 10/10 #& started my reading #& drafted a bunch of emails that need to go out next week #& cleaned the kitchen & washed the sheets #& my love got me a sushi roll even though I said I wasn’t hungry #but I guess I was bc I ate the whole thing #I’m having a bit of a hard time adjusting to a packed schedule once again I suppose #but I got this