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#i collect dead animal parts
llyfrenfys · 5 months
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So I'm gonna come out and say I'm working on a Mari Lwyd related project right now. I have no idea how it's going to turn out but I'm having fun doing it!
Picture of a genuine horse skull I own for tax:
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witchlockmonsterfox · 8 months
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started to dig up the grey fox i buried last year (it had been hit by a car) & it’s a mess because i didn’t use a bag but first find was a tibia! i soaked it in some solution i made then sun bleached it… this is beautiful to me. what a beautiful fox.
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ambulatoryhoodie · 15 days
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When asked why I got top surgery:
I have an extensive graphic tee collection and boobs really fuck up the design
I wanted to be a more aerodynamic swimmer
The anime style ‘boing’ sound effect from my tits kept alerting the guards and it was really cutting into my revenue as a jewel thief
Lost them in the war
Pat down my chest then franticly check my pockets and bag. ‘I most have left them at home’
They would bounce at a speed of 379 mph and the sound was getting noise complaints
Commitment to cosplay
Rehomed them for a small fee, just couldn’t take care of them anymore
Wym I never had tits?????
They turned evil and I had to cut them off like Ash (from the evil dead) had to cut his hand off
They just refused to pay rent so I had to have the city evict them
Sold them for computer parts
The vibe was off with them
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vaspider · 11 months
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So I'm putting this here as a sort of public service. If you have never seen a rabid animal before, and you think you can handle watching it, I think it's a good idea to watch this. It's pretty upsetting to watch, so big CW on it, because this animal is essentially "dead but still moving." This is end-stage rabies. There is no saving this animal.
Before this stage, animals may be excessively affectionate or oddly tame-looking which is part of the reason why seeing people feeding foxes is upsetting to me. These animals might be, or might become, rabid, and there's no way to know without testing, which involves destroying the animal. Encouraging wild animals to be that close to humans is generally bad.
I grew up in the woods, so unfortunately we saw an uptick in rabid animals every spring -- you'd hear there was a rabid bat in this neighborhood or a rabid fox in this one -- but as wild animals and humans cross over more and more, we will see this more and more.
Opossums and squirrels extremely rarely get rabies, and we don't know why. They think the low body temperature of opossums inhibits the virus. The most common animals which get rabies in the US are raccoons, skunks, bats and foxes. Any animal 'acting unusually' -- not skittish around humans, biting at the air or at nothing ('fly-biting'), walking strangely (they kind of look like they have a string attached to their heads and walk kind of diagonal like they're being pulled along, a lot of the time) -- should be treated as though it's potentially rabid.
If you think you have been exposed to a rabid animal, including 'waking up in a room where a bat has gotten into it and there's a fucking bat in your room', please immediately go to the emergency room. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Post-exposure prophylaxis absolutely fucking sucks, it is a series of shots you'll have to get in two stages, it's done by weight, and it feels fucking nasty, but rabies is 100% fatal. I cannot stress enough how essential this is, having been through it.
Thank you for reading, I love everybody, the end.
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ghibli-collector · 5 months
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For anyone who’s already seen Boy and the Heron i found this really interesting article where Ghibli Boss/Producer Suzuki was interviewed recently by indie wire and explains the background of the characters from the new Ghibli film, I’ve copied the full article below or you can click the link to go to the interview but once again it contains so many spoilers
‘The Boy and the Heron’ Is So Personal, Hayao Miyazaki Needed a Year to Grieve Before Pivoting in a New Direction
Miyazaki came out of retirement for his first film in a decade, about his friendships at Ghibli with the late co-founder/director Takahata and co-founder/producer Suzuki.
When Hayao Miyazaki pitched “The Boy and the Heron” (GKids, now in select L.A. and NYC theaters) to Studio Ghibli co-founder/producer Toshio Suzuki in 2016, he asked permission to make the story about himself. This took Suzuki — his friend of nearly 40 years at the time — by surprise; the legendary anime director isn’t known for getting so personal. And yet this aligned perfectly with the notion that Ghibli films are devoted to reliving memories.
“I agree that it is Miyazaki’s most personal film because he actually told me,” Suzuki told IndieWire over Zoom through an interpreter. Not only is “The Boy and the Heron” inspired by Miyazaki’s childhood (he endured the firebombing of Japan during World War II and his father was director of the family’s aircraft manufacturing factory), but also his career at Ghibli with his two closest friends: the late studio co-founder/director Isao Takahata (“Grave of the Fireflies”) and Suzuki.
“Miyazaki is Mahito [the 12-year-old protagonist voiced by Luca Padovan in the English-language version], Takahata is the great uncle [voiced by Mark Hamill], and the gray heron [voiced by Robert Pattinson] is me,” Suzuki added. “So I asked him why. He said [Takahata] discovered his talent and added him to the staff. I think Takahata san was the one who helped him develop his ability. On the other hand, the relationship between the boy and the [heron] is a relationship where they don’t give in to each other, push and pull.”
Collectively, it’s a lot to unpack: Miyazaki came out of retirement for the second time after “The Wind Rises” (2013) to make his 12th feature — the semi-autobiographical, hand-drawn fantasy for his grandchildren. It’s about destruction, loss, and rebuilding a better future through imagination, inspired by the novel he adored as a child (“How Do You Live?”).
Mahito loses his mother in the firebombing of Japan and relocates to the countryside, where his father (voiced by Christian Bale), who runs an air munitions factory, marries his sister-in-law, Natsuko (voiced by Gemma Chan). Traumatized, angry, and confused, the boy encounters a talking heron (part bird, part man), who tells him that his mother is still alive and guides him to an alternate world in a magical tower shared by the living and the dead. There he encounters his great uncle, the architect of the tower, and reunites with both his mother (voiced by Karen Fukuhara) and Natsuko.
At first, Suzuki resisted green-lighting “The Boy and the Heron” because of Miyazaki’s age (he’s 82) and the great expense (it is arguably Japan’s most expensive film but has made the equivalent of nearly $80 million at the country’s box office). Yet Miyazaki wore down his resistance with his enthusiasm and impressive storyboarding. The film took seven years to complete, and Suzuki needed to hire some of Japan’s most talented animators outside of Ghibli to handle the task (including supervising animator Takeshi Honda of “Neon Genesis Evangelion” fame). With diminished stamina and failing eyesight, Miyazaki was unable to oversee the production in the same manner as when he was at the height of his creative powers and relied on Honda to draw, redraw, and review under close advisement.
But with the death of Takahata in 20018, a grief-stricken Miyazaki was forced to scale back the role of the great uncle in the story, who had previously been more central to the boy’s life. “After Takahata passed away, he wasn’t able to continue with that story, so he changed the narrative and it became the relationship between the boy and the Heron,” Suzuki continued. “And in his mind, initially, the Heron was something that symbolizes the eeriness of the mansion and that tower, even ominous, that he goes to during war time. But he changed it to this sort of budding friendship between the boy and the Heron.”
Miyazaki first toyed with the idea of exploring the theme of friendship in “The Wind Rises” (inspired by real-life fighter design engineer Jiro Horikoshi during World War II) before abandoning it. “So this time around, when the Heron became the centerpiece of the story, and he came with the storyboards, I was careful for him to not portray me in a bad way,” Suzuki said. “Having said that, I’ve known Miyazaki for 45 years. I remember everything about him. There are things that only I know. There are things that only the two of us know. And he remembers all these small details, which I was very impressed with.”
For example, when Mahito and the Heron sit and chat at the house of Kiriko (voiced by Florence Pugh), a younger, seafaring version of one of the old maids, it is a recreation of the way Miyazaki and Suzuki would meet. “The place that we do our meetings, where we have our conversation is at his studio, his atelier,” he added. “And he has this like large table, but we don’t sit facing each other, we sit next to each other, and we never look at each other when we talk. And what we discussed was very similar.”
During production, Suzuki became impatient to see the new storyboards with the great uncle. It seemed Miyazaki was intentionally stalling while grieving about Takahata. “My question was: ‘So when is the great uncle going to appear?'” said Suzuki. “He built this great character, but he never appears in the storyboards that he would bring me. But it took him actually about a year after the passing of Takahata that he was able to draw that character into the storyboards in the second half of the story.
“And the most surprising thing for me was when I saw the storyboard where Mahito was asked by his great uncle to carry on with this work, this legacy, and he says no — he declines the offer. Miyazaki was someone who followed the path of Takahata for so many years, and I thought it was a huge thing for him [to follow a different path].”
Meanwhile, Suzuki confirmed that Miyazaki has not retired. The film has given the director renewed confidence to keep working on other stories. However, Miyazaki can’t focus on new ideas while “The Boy and the Heron” remains in theaters. “He needs to empty his mind again,” Suzuki said, “and then when he’s emptied his mind with a blank canvas, he usually comes up with new ideas. So we have to wait a little more.”
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yourlocalstranger123 · 10 months
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||Mermaid Miguel||
Artist: NikSaf (or NikSaf_art) app: Twitter
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Note: I'm using a translator for Spanish. You can correct me if you want. [The way I made this fic so random]
When it said: "I can't eat raw fish" (but, for sure, we're gonna eat some raw fish 🤭) [help. I'm being held hostage by my friend unless I type this. Help]
Part 2 —
Honestly. You were just on a small land, but enough resources to live at least. You're the only person who lives there, but some people visit left and right sometimes. You had a very calm and peaceful life until you accidentally....fish out a VERY big....fish?
You dragged him up even though he was a little heavy with both of your arms hooked with his or just. Straight up carrying him princess style. (Or even dragging him by the tail)
You. Were. Stunned.....you fished out a Merman?! Honestly, you thought mermaids were just fairytales, but I guess not since you're seeing one right now! (Damn, but this one is a hot lookin fish— I mean. Merman)
You were panicking. Should you run? Or check if it's alive? Ask him if he's ok? Wait. Can he even speak english? Or can he even speak at all??? While you were in the abyss of your thoughts, the unknown merman just stared at you.
When you finally collected your thoughts, you felt water spashing on you, well. Not that much. It's more like sprinkling since he's just shaking his hair from the water. He suddenly backed away from you, claws open. (Wait....fish has claws?—)
You put both of your hands in the air as a sign of peace. Not wanting to be looked as a threat. He tilted his head and just slowly backed away, slipping back into the water. Welp, that's gonna be the last time you'll ever see such a beauty again.
You laid there, fishing rod in your hand as you wait for a fish to pull on the string. Basking in the sunlight in such comfort that you could fall asleep if it wasn't for a certain stare burning a hole through you...
Miguel frowning as he watched you just sitting there. Not even bothering to look who was staring at you and just letting them. (Him)
He wonders why you're just. There. You don't even bother going back to that place called a city. You just. Stayed. He's been actually stalking watching you for a while. Waiting for the moment for you to leave to make his heart stop racing and ache.
But not for a single moment, you never left. He even tried many tactics to make you leave, like leaving fish blood, dead bodies of ocean animals, or anything! But. You just...shrugged.
He became increasingly interested in you. Even to the point his tail is wagging like a dog waiting for its owner excitedly. He found out you fell asleep as he sneakily went up to you, dragging his body with his arms. Finally, getting a good look on you, he felt memorized.
Before he left, he tried nuzzling his face to yours, feeling the soft flesh against his. Just like how he saw other humans showing physical affection to each other. Feeling satisfied, he left in a swift motion before you woke up.
The next day, you decided to fish again as it's now your hobby since it's been a bit boring ever since you came to the land. You flinched when you felt a hand that felt like it was soaked in water, taking off your hat that was covering your face.
You see the same handsome merman, looking at you in curiosity. Pausing as you don't know what to do. You put your hand out for him since he kept staring at it as if interested. He slowly and softly put his head on your hand. Nuzzling it as his tail seemed to swish left to right in a wagging motion.
You were about to say something until he went back into the water and after a few minutes, he rose up from the water with a fish in his mouth. He went closer to you, reaching for your lap as he dropped the fish in your hands.
"You....want me to eat this?"
He nodded. Oh. Wait. Seems like he knows english-
You just put it back behind your back, "thanks. I will, uhh, eat it later."
He frowned. Making you feel very nervous. So you just tried walking away to get things to maybe make a fireplace so you can at least cook it to make it edible for you. He noticed this and grabbed your wrist, thinking that your leaving him.
He pulled you over to him, hugging you tightly and not letting go. "Uhh...Mermaid man, im trying to-"
"My name is....Miguel. Not Mermaid Man."
You were stunned. He could also speak? You patted his head as he snuggled you closer.
"no me dejes solo...por favor?"
You paused. Thinking what to do. You'll just simply tell him, "I can't eat raw fish, pretty boy."
He paused at the mention to him as pretty boy. He quickly lets you go, looking away so you can't see the blush on his face. You quietly went away, getting some wood for the fireplace.
After you come back, you see him, miguel in the water, waiting for you. You patted your lap as Miguel hesitantly but hurryingly comes over to you. He flinched when you put a wet towel on his neck where his gills were but slowly got comfortable. (I think Mermaids need their gills to not be dry so they can breathe)
He watches you cook the fish and take a bite out of it. You offered one to him as he took a bite out of it. After a few minutes, he tugged your sleeves. Looking at you as if waiting for you to feed him again. Sighing, you broke off a piece and fed it to him.
Maybe living with a Merman isn't so bad after all.
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cauliflowercounty · 1 month
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Knives Dance (Part II)
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
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Summary: You and your father address your people to quell the seeds of unrest on Youra.  Realizing the resolute dedication of your people, Baron Vladimir begins to conspire against you and your homeworld, something you and Feyd will not take lying down when you put a plan of your own in motion.
Warnings: visceral imagery, more death, reader goes a little mental 
Word Count: 6.0k
Part I | Part II | Part III
Breaking your kiss reluctantly, Feyd looks around at the twenty some odd soldiers you’ve both just killed, exhilaration and admiration for you still coursing through his veins.   “I’m sorry to do this, but I must ask something of you, Feyd,” you say, looking down at both of your garments saturated in blood. 
“Anything,” he responds without a second thought. He knows he means it.  
“You must not let anyone know what I showed you or that I was fighting alongside you tonight.” You walk over and pick up your second blade that Feyd tossed away, strapping it back to your thigh along with the other one.  Next, you collect Ozran’s knife and hand it to Feyd. It’s light and flimsy in his grasp compared to your daggers, truly a laughable excuse for a murder weapon.  An animal being killed for supper deserves to be killed by a better blade than this. You fasten your cloak back onto your person, and it consumes your body again, making it seem as if you hadn’t just butchered half the dead around you. “These are my best kept secrets. You must say that it was you who killed all of our attackers.”
“Of course,” he replies, and you press a soft kiss on his lips in thanks.  As soon as he leans in to kiss you back, approaching footsteps become audible.  It’s your father, the baron, and a fleet of Youran guards with their weapons drawn.
“Let’s give them a little show, shall we?” you whisper against his lips. As soon as they come into view, Feyd feels you fall into his arms, spotting delicate tears collecting on lower lashes. He brings his arms around you, cradling your figure as you sink to the ground and begin quaking in his embrace, which makes his heart twinge. 
Your father calls out to you, aghast as he spots the dead bodies surrounding you and Feyd.  The look on your father’s face is as if he’s worried you might turn to dust. He kneels beside you, taking you out of Feyd’s arms and into his own. “We heard commotion from the castle and came as quickly as we could. Are you injured, my darling child?  What happened?” 
“F-Father, I am alright, ” you quiver, breath shaky as you lean into him.  “It was so scary, though! Na-Baron and I were on a nighttime stroll, and suddenly a poisoned dart flew out of nowhere and nearly hit me.  When we looked over to see where it came from, Ozran was approaching us with a wild look in his eyes.” You’re sobbing into your Father’s chest at this point, tear stains soaking into your father’s clothes, and Feyd cannot help but be impressed by your theatrics.  “Ozran said he was unhappy with our dealings with House Harkonnen. He meant to kill us to make a point, but Na-Baron courageously disarmed Ozran and struck him down. As soon as that happened, Ozran’s loyalists began to strike, but they were no match for Na-Baron.”
Hearing those words, Feyd sees his uncle lift his chin up in pride, delighting in the thought of Feyd emerging victorious over twenty, killing in cold blood. Your father lets out a sigh of relief, pulling you closer in his arms as he holds the back of your head.  “It’s alright, y/n. You are still alive, and Ozran cannot hurt you any longer,” he whispers before looking up to Feyd.  “Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. I am most grateful. Thank you for saving my daughter from those criminals.  I am in your debt.”
Feyd sees his Uncle’s eyes glimmer with excitement.  Your father shouldn’t have said that.  His uncle never passed up an opportunity to prey on those indebted to the Harkonnens. Before, Feyd also enjoyed the manipulation of other peoples, but now that his uncle has his sights set on you, a growing sense of unease begins to build, and he can’t bring himself to look at his uncle. 
“It was my honor to fight for your daughter tonight,” Feyd replies. “I am glad I was here to protect her life, and I would do the same again.”
Your father brings you to your feet, your cloak still concealing your stained battle gear underneath.  You bring the back of your hand up to wipe away your tears, letting out a meek sniffle.  Feyd keeps trying to remind himself that what you’re doing is just and act, a way of protecting your secrets from his devious uncle, but Feyd’s chest continues to ache seeing you cry. If he had his way, nothing would make you shed a tear ever again.
“If there were this many attackers tonight, that means we have unrest on our hands. There are sure to be more of them.”  your father says, turning to one of the soldiers. “Call the citizens to the castle, and prepare the thrones.”  
“Yes, My Lord,” the guard says, turning on his heel and hurrying away, and Feyd watches as he disappears.
“I do hope this does not mean the marriage will be called off,” Baron Vladimir interjects with a leading stare at your father.  Your father shakes his head straight away. 
“Of course not, Baron.  I value our alliance.  We will handle our people. I assure you, the marriage will happen on Giedi Prime,” your father says as the sound of a horn reverberates across the island nation.  “Would you be present for the address tonight?”
His uncle obliges, and the guards guide everyone through the winding hallways.  After a few minutes, they exit the fortress through another set of doors, and the group emerges onto an enormous stone platform overlooking an open basin lined with towering columns. Two grand thrones stand in the middle of the platform: one for you and one for your father.  Instead of stone like their surroundings, they’re made of thick, twisty branches of a rich, dark wood that have grown into the shape of chairs.  It’s almost as if these chairs were borne out of the very nature on the island.
Feyd looks down to the land below the platform.  People are quickly gathering below at a remarkable rate.  He sees citizens emerging from all directions from the surrounding mountain range.  Multiple cable cars whose lines stretch from inside the forest to the basin approach. Light shines outward from the compartments, and Feyd sees they’re positively filled with people. When the cars meet the ground, the stained glass doors open and people flow out and into the crowd while others run across the wooden bridges out from under the trees. 
Your father beckons all of you forward once the crowd has amassed.  When you and your father come into the people’s view, there is a roar of cheers.  Feyd sees people start to raise their hands and clap for you as the crowd begins a melodic chanting of “House Ronen!  House Ronen!”  The way they rally for their leaders is earnest and true, a sight to behold. 
You take a seat at your throne as your father does.  You gesture to Feyd to come stand behind your chair and the baron floats beside your father’s throne.  When the crowd spots the Harkonnens, some of the cheers turn to murmurs, which rumble through the group as more people begin to whisper to one another.  Your father raises his palm to the people, and they fall silent.
“Thank you, my dear friends, for coming at this hour.  I would not have called you if I didn’t think it was important,” your father’s voice booms.  “We have something very important to tell you tonight."
He gestures over to you and you rise from your seat and step forward, once again holding your cape closed.  The armed guards advance on the sidelines, holding their weapons at their sides to protect you.  You pause and gaze out at your people before centering yourself, holding your head high with poise appropriate for a lady of your stature. 
“I would like to echo my father’s thanks for your time and presence,” you begin, your voice collected and commanding.  “Not an hour ago, there was an attempt at my life at the Pools of Ashora.” A wave of disbelief propagates through the crowd.  Some cup their hand to their mouths and others begin to whisper to their neighbors. A few let out roars of anger, but Feyd swears he sees a few snigger at the news.
 “Twenty men led by researcher Ozran Neyru ambushed me and Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen tonight.  As you can see, the endeavor to end my life was unsuccessful. During the attack, Ozran told me he and the others were motivated because of my upcoming marriage to Na-Baron Harkonnen, that their belief is I am betraying our ideals by allowing the House of Harkonnen into our circle.  I do not doubt there are others that feel the same as him, and I have come to offer you an explanation, which I feel you all deserve.”
There are nods through the crowd.  Some seem undeniably compelled with your speech while others cross their arms with skepticism. You glance over to your father, gestures with his hand for you to proceed. 
“I have lived on Youra all of my life.  It is my homeland, and a place I care deeply for. When I was seven, I drank from the sacred pool on top of our great mountain, and when I was sixteen, I had my own Rite like each of you.  I know what being Youran is because I have lived it from the moment I took my first breath. I’ve grown up knowing our stories and our traditions, and I love the society we’ve been able to build.
“Looking out upon you tonight under the glow of the lanterns, I think of the tale of Zeyred, who was the first to release lanterns at nighttime to guide the souls of our departed to their final destination amongst the stars after he mistook a shooting star for the soul of his dead mother.  Zeyred used what he thought was the truth and created a wonderful tradition in order to help loved ones on their final journey.  Since then, we have left behind the notion that souls go to the stars once life is over, but we still release lanterns every night to pay our respect for him and the Yourans of his time.  It reminds ourselves of where we come from.” 
Feyd sees an air of nostalgia wash over the crowd and a few clutch their hearts, admiration growing in their eyes as you recount the traditional Youran folktale. 
“This practice of using truth for the betterment of others is ancient, but it still remains the lifeblood of Youra today. By seeking truth in our collective research, we’ve developed elixirs that have eliminated diseases that have historically killed many. We’ve found ways to protect our crops from failure. We’ve made advances in engineering to improve our ships and travel around our planet and beyond, broadening our quest for knowledge. By following truth, our quality of life on Youra has improved because of the choices our predecessors have made more than any of us alive today will ever know or appreciate.  We’ve found countless ways of providing for and protecting others.”  Mumbles of agreement echo from below. Some nod their heads to one another. The citizenry is certainly taking to your argument, and Feyd is in awe of your eloquence and composure. 
“Tonight, I have witnessed an undeniable truth: the prowess of House Harkonnen. I have seen strength, valor, and loyalty in Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, without whom I would not be standing here in front of you. As a woman of Youra, I put my faith in what is real, which is why I am putting my faith in the House of Harkonnen.
“This union is not a departure from our ideals.  If anything, it is a commitment to them. It is my way of protecting you.  It will strengthen our society by putting us under the wing of the greatest major house and those we care for is simply getting a little larger. I have made this decision for the betterment of all of us. I ask you to join me in the celebration of this union when I depart for Giedi Prime.” 
The crowd erupts in cheers as you let out gasp in amazement at the overwhelming support by your people. Even the soldiers around you raise their weapons to the sky in support. You bow to your nation, thanking them for their time.  Some of the people in the crowd begin to chant Feyd’s name, thanking him for saving their beloved Lady, which catches him by surprise. Your father claps at your address, and Feyd joins him in applause, commending your efforts.
The people are dismissed and the Youran soldiers guide Feyd and the others back into the castle. As the group is safely indoors, you grasp one of Feyd’s hands on your own and press a kiss on his closest cheek and lean in to whisper “Thank you, Feyd.”  
As you pull back, you and your father bow to the Harkonnens before you return to your quarters, still encircled by guards.  Watching you disappear behind a corridor, Feyd notices his heart longing for your company. He thinks of the way you two moved in perfect sync during your fight.  The fiery look in your eyes during the battle was thrilling to behold. His mind lingers on you as he reminisces about the feeling he had of bolts of lightning shooting through his veins when you kissed him.  Just as soon as he's entranced, he’s ripped out of his fantasy by his uncle’s fingers clenched around his shoulder.
“Come,” his uncle orders, and Feyd follows as they return to the guest wing of the fortress.  The walk to the guest wing is eerily silent.  All that can be heard is footsteps and the gentle whirring and occasional clicks that come from his uncle’s medical contraptions.  His uncle beckons him into his own quarters after the guards bid them goodnight.  The baron floats into the room while instructing Feyd to close the door behind him.
This guest suite is an exact replica of the one Feyd is staying in. The walls are covered in painstakingly crafted tapestries and the furniture is made of a red-brown wood with a bold grain that looks like billows of smoke. An entire wall is a floor to ceiling window that leads to a balcony which overlooks the ocean.  The soft reflection of the moonlight from the water’s surface streams through the window, illuminating half of the baron’s face in a stark white light while the other is cast in a sinister shadow. His uncle calls Feyd closer, and he obeys. 
“Well done, Feyd,” is the first thing his uncle says to him in a low voice.  “The Yourans may still be outside, so we must be quiet.” Feyd nods to his uncle in understanding as he notices his uncle’s unbridled grin, the one he only has when he’s plotted something truly heinous.  “The Yourans are weaker than I ever imagined.  I knew they were a society of wisdom, but I never expected them to leave themselves so… vulnerable.” The baron’s eyes are now ablaze with savagery. Saying the words out loud has lit the flames of cruelty that burns in his soul. “The fact that you killed twenty of them in the time between us hearing the attack and arriving in the courtyard single handedly is a true testament to their sheer mediocrity.  I shall reward you when we are back on Giedi Prime.  How about another mistress this time? I will ensure she’s properly broken for you.”
I don’t want your praise. I don’t want your gifts, Old Man, Feyd thinks, resisting the urge to grab ahold of his uncle’s neck, strangle him, and feel his trachea shatter under his thumbs.
“I was originally frustrated at you, Feyd.  I wondered why you simply didn’t allow them to kill her, but you’ve done well, despite your lack of foresight. We will not have to take the planet by force. Now we have a way to win over the people of Youra, and they will soon be ours. Lady Ronen is foolish.  She thinks their principles will keep them safe, but their dedication to their values will be their downfall.”
Feyd conceals his clenched fist from his uncle’s view as he collects himself.  He must not be rash.  Instead, he suppresses his emotions, and he asks his uncle “What are you proposing?” 
“We take her to Giedi Prime, and once the marriage is sealed, I want you to kill her.”  Those words make Feyd’s blood run cold. Kill you?  After everything that’s happened? After the fear of losing you had already struck his heart once today? Feyd will not allow it.  “We shall tell them it was natural.” The Baron continues with a venomous tone. “…and that it was her dying wish for her people to honor our alliance.” The baron grins, bearing his inky, black teeth.  Frightening images of your dead body crumpled on the glossy black floors of Giedi Prime flash in Feyd’s mind with your beautiful eyes blank and unseeing, which makes his head begin to spin. “You saw how they rallied around her tonight. They are so dedicated to her that they will honor her wishes even in death. The planet Youra will be ours, Feyd. We will take the bounty of their work to Arrakis where we will kill Muad'dib, and the House of Harkonnen will emerge victorious.”
With that, the baron shoos his nephew out of the room.  On the other side of the door, Feyd balls his fists and clenches his teeth so tightly it’s a wonder they haven’t cracked under the pressure.  Instead of returning to his quarters, he walks through the corridors of the palace straight to yours, trying to hold his breath steady as the bile within him threatens to pour over.  Outside of your room, there are armed guards keeping watch over the entrance.  One knocks at the door when he requests to see you and slips inside once you permit the guard entrance. 
Moments later, you emerge at the door. You’ve cleaned up since he last saw you and you’re no longer in your cloak and battle gear.  Instead, you wear a light, flowy nightdress that hugs your waist and reflects the moonlight exquisitely. You reach out to Feyd and bring his hands together near your chest.  Feyd’s heart skips and you raise yourself up on your toes to kiss him in earnest.  He sighs into the softness of your lips. Having you so close and being graced by your touch is one of the greatest privileges he has ever received. As you break away, there’s a look of concern on your face.
“Would you like to come inside?” you ask him softly and he nods.  As soon as he enters, you close the door and lock it behind you.  He lets out a frustrated hiss, finally able to express his frustration as he sits down in an armchair chair and rests his elbows on his thighs. He his head in his hands in frustration. “What’s wrong, Feyd?”
“My uncle is plotting.  He wishes for me to murder you after we wed. He thinks you weak and your people impressionable,” Feyd seethes, closing his eyes and running his hands along the back of his neck.  “I couldn’t ever bring myself to do that to you, but I know my uncle.  If I don’t do it, he will have someone who doesn't care for you like I do carry out the deed instead. He plans to take control of your planet and your people when you are gone.”
For the first time in years, Feyd feels like he’s on the verge of tears, something that the baron had him beaten for until his bones shattered when Feyd was a child.  He has only just found you.  You’ve begun to heal his heart and put the light back in his eyes.  You’ve shown him unwarranted kindness and let him bask in your affections.  You’ve given him someone to fight for, and just as soon as he’s found his salvation in you, it’s about to be taken from him.  Bringing your thumb up to his cheek, you wipe the small droplet that threatens to spill over away.
“Do not worry, my love,” you whisper to him, taking the opportunity to gently nuzzle his neck, and he sinks into your embrace.  “Please dry your eyes.”
“We have to get rid of him. We need a plan,” Feyd says with conviction, and you nod. As he looks up at you, his worries seem to fade when he senses your fortitude.  You support his cheek with your delicate touch and stare into his eyes.  Behind your irises he sees a glint of devilishness. 
“I know of a way, Feyd.  We’ll silence Baron Vladimir, and in the end, we will install you as the ruler of Giedi Prime. You will be Feyd-Rautha, Baron of the House of Harkonnen.”
The people of Youra come to see you off in droves as you depart for the wedding. Everyone is dressed in their very best as they watch you precess toward the Harkonnen vessel accompanied by your father, the baron, and your bodyguards.  Some parents have brought their children to catch a glimpse of you as you depart, the young Yourans perched on their parents’ shoulders to get a better view of you.  You wave to them, and the children smile excitedly when you acknowledge them. Feyd marvels at your people's continued love and affection for you as he offers his arm to you. The Baron glances over to Feyd as the citizens cheer for you, nearly drooling at the prospect of dominating this society. Feyd looks away from his uncle as you take his arm, his determination rising. He will not permit his uncle’s scheme to go to fruition.
Under Giedi Prime’s black sun, the wedding proceeds as planned by Baron Vladimir.  The entirety of Giedi Prime’s populace gathers to watch the union of Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha and the Lady of House Ronen. You wed each other in front of the crowd for all to see, wearing Harkonnen garb next to the baron and your father. Feyd cannot look away from you.  You are beautiful in every way.  The dress seems to hang delightfully on every curve of your physique. The long sleeves that extend just beyond your wrists conform to the shape of your arms perfectly. The rectangular cutout filled with sheer mesh placed perfectly over your breastbone is something Feyd cannot help but stare at.  The splendor is so befitting of your stature, and all he can think of is him and his Baroness ruling Giedi Prime together one day. 
You and Feyd each receive a necklace of dark stone plates from his uncle, marking your marriage.  Feyd grasps your body firmly as he kisses you, his mind consumed with you and you alone as he cups your waist. You are finally his to have and to hold, and how wonderful that is to him. The crowd chants for Feyd when he raises your intertwined fingers for the crowd to see.  The people exalt him, and the baron smiles from the sidelines as the alliance is sealed. 
During the celebratory banquet, you and Feyd make careful effort to keep you away from the baron, lest he has other plans for you.  The night goes on, the fireworks inky in the air and Harkonnen music playing to the late hours.  As the lights fade and the diplomats go home, you bid your father goodbye, promising you will return to Youra soon. As his ship disappears into the night, Feyd comes to stand next to you. It’s almost time. You’ve been summoned to the baron’s personal chambers. You and Feyd walk in silence to the baron’s room through the empty halls.  Outside the door that separates the two of you and the baron, there are no guards. 
“It’s a trap,” you mouth to Feyd, careful to not make any noise.  He gives you the smallest nod in agreement.  Luring his victims into a false sense of security is something the baron always loved to do.  Once they thought they were safe, the baron would turn their relief into agony and despair, relishing the emotional differential, torturing them until they begged for death after which he would oblige. Luckily, you and Feyd both know better, and you’ve come prepared.
Together, you both press one of your palms on one of the double doors and push them open. The room is inky black inside, only lit by horizontal strips of lighting.  In the center sits the baron in a tub of viscous black sludge. Proceeding slowly, Feyd sees you mark every object in the room, creating a mental log for yourself.  Nobody else is in the room.  It’s just the baron in his tub. 
“Welcome Feyd and Na-Baroness,” the baron says, taking a puff from his pipe as he leans backward in his tub. You both approach him, but are careful to distance yourself from the tub. “I wanted to congratulate you both on your marriage.  Our people seem quite enthralled with you, na-Baroness,” the baron comments before clicking his tongue and taking another huff. “I- We wanted to present you with a gift to welcome you to our House.”
The Baron gestures for Feyd to come closer, and he obeys as the baron extends his arm to gesture at a black box that sits near the edge of his tub. The Baron raps his fingers on the box once as his eyes maliciously dart between it and Feyd. Feyd knows what this box is.  Inside are his poisoned knives.  As Feyd looks at the box, he can hear his uncle’s voice from the night on Youra in his mind: “Kill her!”  
Looking back toward the doorway, two Harkonnen soldiers, armed with the barbs they use to subdue slaves in gladiatorial fights, have silently entered the room with their weapons drawn.  Their stances are wide.  When they step, they shift side to side, using the outside edge of their feet to make their footsteps barely audible. They approach you from behind, but Feyd knows you’ve already sensed them when your eyes narrow and your spine straightens as you moderate your breathing.
“Now!” the baron bellows to the soldiers, who throw their hooks at you, aiming for your shoulders.  With the greatest of ease, you duck downward, allowing the prongs to soar over your head and clatter on the floor at the base of the tub.  You grasp the lines the soldiers are holding in your hands.  Standing back up, you twirl and swing one of your legs up and around the lines attached to the barbs. Using your foot as a hook, you force the lines downward and towards yourself, and the men topple over in their place as the lines are tugged toward you. They yell out in shock.
Feyd sees his uncle’s face contort in horror as he is frozen and at a loss for words. Clearly none of the three were expecting any resistance from you to be successful. You yank the ends of the barbs toward you and wrap your hands around the long rods. Dashing toward the entrance of the room, you make contact with one of them, killing them with a single blow before they have a chance to react.  The other one whimpers in fear, watching his comrade fall before attempting to scramble back to the entrance on his hands and knees.  
“FEYD, DO SOMETHING!” the baron hisses as you strike down the other who only makes it a few feet before your weapon collides with the back of his neck.  The second barbman falls to the ground, motionless. Feyd opens up the case and takes his knives out, holding them steady at his side.  As he approaches you, Feyd’s eyes flicker to the side toward where the baron lays in his vat of ooze, directing you to bring the fight closer to his uncle.  Your gaze intensifies, and you lower your stance, using the sharp edge of each barb to cut the lines away.
“Let’s dance, my dear husband,” you coo at him as you raise your weapons and rush at each other. The shrill sound of metal clashing fills the air.  You both know each other’s moves now.  As one attacks, the other easily parries, neither one of you coming close to inflicting real harm. Feyd feels the tingling of excitement in his soul.  Fighting with you before was exhilarating on Youra, but this is something else. He can finally see your beauty in all its glory.  The way your body contorts like an acrobat as you dodge and counter flawlessly. How your brow furrows when you take on one of his blows with impeccable form is a sight to behold. You are nothing short of a miracle. 
From the tub, the baron bellows, “Kill her, NOW!”  You and Feyd continue, circling around the tub so that you come closer to the baron.  With a signal to Feyd and one swift move, you knock baron’s hand closest to his control panel away, preventing him from calling for help.  The Baron gasps in surprise. You couldn’t have known that’s where the controls are unless you were told. The realization dawns on him too late; he feels the sting of Feyd’s blade on his neck. He looks up at his nephew in horror.  
Feyd drops his other knife and uses his free hand to force his uncle’s mouth open. The Baron chokes and gasps as the nephew he has groomed into a ruthless monster turns on him. The Baron tries to tell Feyd to unhand him as a desperate last effort as he struggles in the tub, but Feyd’s grip on his uncle is unwavering and only gets rougher. Feyd’s mind is ablaze.  This is his revenge for plotting to kill you and for a lifetime of abuse at his hand. 
In the past, Feyd revered his uncle, admired his iron grip on Giedi Prime, and thought that the baron was what he should aspire to be, but Feyd sees the truth now, looking down at his uncle writing in his grasp to no avail.  His uncle is and always has been pathetic.  It takes all the strength Feyd has in himself not to crack his Uncle’s neck right there. Feyd quells his impulsiveness. The plan must proceed as you arranged.
You approach from behind and stick two fingers in the baron’s mouth, stretching his cheek out as far as it will go.  The baron whimpers as he spies something stirring under your sleeves.  It circles down your arms and out from under the black fabric.  It’s a black centipede with thick, glossy armor.  It must be half the length of your arm, and the baron’s eyes quiver as it crawls onto the back of your hand and into his gaping maw. He chokes as the legs scuttle and scratch at his tongue.  The creature forces itself down his esophagus. The baron feels the creature thrash, and he can almost hear the chitin armor clicking against itself from within him as he chokes on it.
“Don’t move,” you tell the baron with a dark smile.  The baron’s fear is thick and palatable in the air.  “She won’t like it if her host moves too much.” You remove your fingers from his mouth and recoil at his saliva. “What shall I have her do first?  Maybe I’ll have her paralyze your vocal chords so you don’t go blabbing to anyone?” Your victim looks at you in desperation, but you tisk at him before letting out a rhythmic series of clicks through your teeth. The Baron feels the head of the creature wriggle inside of him back up into his throat.  The Baron coughs.  Gasping out in pain, he feels a searing pinch. Then the inside of his throat begins to burn. The centipede has clenched its jagged pincers around the inside of his throat. “Isn’t she so well trained, Baron?”
You lean down to the baron and hold his head in your hands so that you’re looking directly into his eyes, which are bloodshot and tearful.  “You pitiful man, you thought you could kill me?” you whisper to him as he tries to call for help, but no comprehensible sound comes out. “Let me tell you a secret: I am more than the damsel in distress you think I am. I fought alongside Feyd that night.  I even killed half of them. You shouldn’t have underestimated me or my people.  We may be caretakers, but once those we love are threatened, we will not rest until we have our revenge.  Now, you shall die a slow, painful, unceremonious death alone in a hot vat of black slime for your arrogance.”
You and Feyd release the baron from your grip. Allowing his body to sink against the edge of the tub.  The baron sputters, as he begins to convulse.  The venom is beginning to take hold.  Soon it will affect his whole nervous system and shut down his body entirely.  You and Feyd leave him there to rot as you deal with the bodies of the barbmen.  In the early morning before anyone is awake, you collect the centipede from the baron in his tub. His body is twitching ever so slightly, but there is no hope for him.  You hide the creature in your dress again, whispering small praises for a job well done and leave the room. 
By midday, the Harkonnen attendants are growing concerned that they have not heard from the baron, a servant opens up the doors to the baron’s chambers, finding him lifeless in his tub with empty eyes staring up at the ceiling with a single tear stain on his cheek.  The top doctors on Giedi Prime are brought in to perform an autopsy. They say he died of natural causes, unable to identify any trace of the centipede's presence.
The news spreads quickly about the baron’s passing, and you and Feyd put on a brave face for House Harkonnen.  The funeral procession is quickly organized. The people of Giedi Prime hang their heads, mourning the sudden loss of their dear leader as you and Feyd precess through the city alongside the coffin to put the baron in his final resting place. Feyd makes a speech, praising his uncle for his leadership, secretly relishing his death.
You put up large flags with the baron’s face on it throughout the land, shrouding the architecture in even more dark fabrics, hang a portrait of him next to the other past Harkonnen leaders in the hallway, and order a monument to be built in his honor. Nobody suspects a thing.
A month after the death of Vladimir Harkonnen, you and Feyd stand in front of the citizens of Giedi Prime in your best clothes again as one of the Harkonnen advisors announce your new titles: Baron and Baroness Harkonnen. The crowd chants for the both of you with zeal, grateful to have leaders again.  
The next morning, Feyd smiles as he opens his eyes and sees you sleeping peacefully, your head resting on his chest as you unconsciously run your fingers over his muscles.  He hopes you’re dreaming of him because you were most certainly the subject of all of his fantasies last night.  He tilts his head down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head.  He knows his next job is dealing with the Fremen attacks on Arrakis now that he is Baron Harkonnen.  Instead of concerning himself with that, he chooses to close his eyes again and pulls you in closer. That job can wait. For now, all his thoughts are consumed by you as they should be. 
--
Thanks for reading!
Part III OUT NOW!
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araminakilla · 1 year
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Regarding Death Wolf...
Hear me out (NO, it's not the kind you are thinking)
We know Death has a job, right? To collect souls and most likely release them to the afterlife.
And for this job, he has to be there when somebody is about to die, as demostrated with him being there moments before Puss' eight death.
Supposing he is THE Death and he has been doing this since the beginning of time (or at least when there were enough stories of the Grim Reaper to adquire a physical form) that means he has seen a lot, A LOT of awful things.
Murders, suicides, massacres, death of infants, people who didn't deserve to die alone, animal cruelty, some other heavy stuff I won't mention here, etc etc etc.
And we thought "man, how is he able to cope with all of that? That job has to be utter torture for someone."
Probably many of you could think that he is able to do that because he is Death, and he was "born" with that purpose and only him can reap souls perfectly.
But while he is a force of nature, he also WAS a force of nature. Let me explain it well: He adquired a personality enough to be angry, excited, frustrated, amazed, happy, among other emotions.
While he has supernatural power and is most likely the most powerful being in the Shrek Franchise (or in Dreamworks as many say) he is also a PERSON.
Someone with a code of honor, morals, opinions, beliefs, etc.
Returning to the question "How can he bear all of that?" taking into account he is no longer an inevitable force, but a character of his own.
The answer is something you may relate to, and that is: Creativity and escapism.
To be the embodiment of Death, the guy is a very creative fella.
First of all, his design. I heard many people saying here and in Twitter that his design is something they would come up in their edgy, teen years of drawing their first fursona.
Guess what? They are right, the wolf form is someone's fursona. It's DEATH'S fursona. He clearly came up with this badass, piercing canine form to blend with the Fairy Tale Land assuming the form of the "Big Bad Wolf". He most likely had other forms he designed over the centuries and was able to present as them like if he were on a role play game in the living world.
His sickles? The weapon of choice with the little crossed cats on it to have a bigger effect of terror for Puss? Those who can become knuckles and join to create a scythe? Those are his creation, probably after thinking it for a while and writing all of those functions on a paper.
The way he presents himself? In the bar? The coins in his eyes as a "watching you" sign while being a cool reference to the Ferryman of souls? He transforming Perrito's forest into the background of a skull? The chilling reveal at the Cave of Lost Souls? The fire ring? It was all him.
As for the escapism part...
When the world becomes too heavy to deal with as real life issues tend to make us feel bad, depressed, angry... we tend to escape it somewhere. And in our time the common place would be the internet as in webpages or comics, stories, etc.
But what has to do with Death Wolf you may ask?
Well, while he would NEVER be able to escape his job entirely, he can have moments where he can enjoy a good hunt of people who don't appreciate life, like the whole plot of the Puss in Boots sequel could demostrate.
He managed to have a little time outside his eternal routine to chase an arrogant cat who took life for granted. He enjoyed it, it was thrilling, it was exciting.
It was a way to escape a monotonous, grim "life", if just for a short moment.
So, when the chase ended as his prey no longer feared him and now was ready to fight for his last life, the wolf retreats, happy for Puss' character development but resigned because he once again had to return to "The Eternal Duty"
And that's not even counting all the times Jack "I'm dead inside" Horner had to interrupt Lobo's hunt and remind him of his job even in his "spare time"
Death knew the chase had to end eventually, but he didn't want it to end.
He didn't want to return to his own world
And if we look at Death like that, then he is probably one of the most relatable characters Dreamworks has ever make.
In the Shrek Franchise:
Monsters can be loved
Princesses don't have to fit the perfect standards of beauty
Handsome guys can be possesive jerks
Love at first sight doesn't work like one would think
Happily ever afters had to be built and not just obtain them with magic
And Death is the most creative and "full of life" being in the world
Because he would absolutely go crazy with his life/work if he wasn't.
Because in a world of Kings, Poets and Soldiers, he's the Supreme King
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And he's also a perky goth but none of you are ready for that conversation.
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inou-ie · 7 months
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Pairing: Arlecchino x female reader
Warnings: NSFW, violence, strap-on, mind break, overstimulation, slapping, pet play.
MDNI
Attempting to confront the Knave had initially seemed like a courageous choice, but it quickly became apparent that it was one of the worst decisions you had ever made. At first, you believed you were gaining the upper hand, delivering blow after blow, but it soon became evident that she had merely been toying with you all along.
The Knave had taunted you deliberately, goading you into launching the first attack. She had taken your hits with a calculated intent, using them to study your movements and understand your attack patterns, all part of her strategy to turn your own actions against you.
"What's wrong? Done already..? Pathetic..." Arlecchino mocked you as the sound of her heels striking the floor drew nearer. You groaned in agony, attempting to stand up, but your beaten body refused to cooperate, leaving you helpless and vulnerable.
"Shut up... I'm just... resting. The floor is cold, it feels nice." you defiantly replied, though the visible wounds and bruises on your body told a different story. Despite the pain and exhaustion, you refused to accept defeat in this manner.
Arlecchino's laughter filled the air as she knelt down and seized you by the neck. "What a joke. Accept your defeat, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you go like this." she taunted, her grip tightening.
You let out a groan, struggling to break free as you held onto her wrists, but Arlecchino only tightened her grip on your neck. "One last chance. I have no time to spare with pests like you. Give. Up." she hissed, leaning in closer to your face, her intense gaze locked onto yours.
Summoning a last burst of energy, you managed to force a smirk, taking a deep breath as you reached for her face and flung sand you collected earlier into her eyes. It was a dirty move, and you were well aware of it, but you couldn't afford to give up just like that. "Fuck, you dirty little-" The Knave winced in pain, releasing her grip on you and causing you to tumble to the ground. She cursed vehemently, and you could feel her anger as you did your best to stand. Retreat seemed like the wisest course of action for the moment... but your legs won't move.
Your attempts to stand proved futile as your legs refused to cooperate, leaving you struggling on the ground, You had taken quite a beating after all.. Time was of the essence, and you could see that Arlecchino was gradually recovering from the effects of your dirty trick. "If I catch you... you'd hope you were dead..." She muttered a threat under her breath. It was the last thing you heard from Arlecchino and before you could react, she swiftly launched an attack that rendered you unconscious, the darkness enveloping your senses as you fell into a deep and uneasy sleep...
Your eyes snapped open as you felt a tug on your neck, and you realized that Arlecchino was pulling the leash attached to the collar around your neck. Taking in your surroundings, you found yourself lying on a large bed, all naked and you seem to have been cleaned and taken care of. You tried to move around just to find your hands tied up so tightly behind you.
"I was getting bored just watching you sleep all day. I had given you enough time to rest, now it's time to entertain me... pet." Arlecchino rose from her seat, positioning herself in front of you, a smug smile playing on her lips. The expression on her face filled you with a sense of foreboding, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were in serious trouble.
"You need to be punished. I was kind enough to let you recover but don't worry... I'll break you again... and again." Arlecchino seized your chin with a firm grip and leaned in close, her words a hushed whisper in your ear. "You're like a wild animal that needs taming… and that's exactly what I'm going to do." she declared with a predatory intensity that sent a chill down your spine.
"You--" before you could utter a word, Arlecchino's hand came down hard across your face, leaving red marks and a stinging pain on your cheek. "Dogs don't speak." she asserted, her tone unwavering as she enforced her control over you.
You glanced down, trying to make sense of the situation, but then mustered the courage to look up once more, attempting to speak. However, your attempt was quickly met with another harsh slap, and Arlecchino's stern command: "Don't even try." It was clear that she intended to exert full control over your actions and words.
Biting your lips to suppress any protest, you reluctantly nodded in submission. The surrender stung your pride, but it was evident that you had no choice but to comply with Arlecchino's demands, at least for the time being.
"Good. Do not speak until I say so." With an amused smile, Arlecchino pushed you forcefully onto the bed, her hand gripping the leash tightly as she pushed your head down, reinforcing her dominance and control over you. You hear her movements behind you but you didn't dare to look.
A sharp gasp escaped your lips, and you gritted your teeth, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you feel something big penetrating your tight entrance. "This is the biggest one I have, fitting for a untamed dog like you." Arlecchino lets out a chuckle, watching as you take her biggest strap without any foreplay. You can't even do anything with your hands behind your back, your head pushed down. You could only whimper loudly as Arlecchino keeps thrusting in full force.
"I-It hurts..." you mumbled, as you looked over your shoulder seeing Arlecchino's smug expression as she grabs your hips. "I thought I just told you not to talk? I guess I need to use more force when handling you." she pulled out right away, making you groan at the sudden emptiness.
The Knave then lifted you up easily, moving you to her lap as she leans back against the headboard. "I'm in a good mood right now so I'll give you a little bit of time to adjust." Arlecchino mumbles as she slowly guides you to take her cock inside you, her hands firmly holding your hips. You nod in response, biting your lips.. trying to suppress any sounds as you slowly sink down onto her lap, feeling your inner walls stretching to accommodate the thickness of her strap.
"Just kidding... you think I'll show you mercy?" You let out a loud scream as she pushed you down on her lap hard, your eyes rolling to the back of your head... Arlecchino then immediately proceeded to move you up and down on her lap like a toy. Your pained whimpers and screams filled the whole room while Arlecchino watches the bulge her cock is making in your belly while your body continues to bounce up and down with a satisfied smirk. It didn't take long before you let out a long loud moan, indicating that you've already reached your climax.. putting your head on her shoulder in desperate attempt to beg for comfort as you get overwhelmed by the intense pain and pleasure coursing through your trembling body.
You've came...so what? Arlecchino didn't give you a break as she continues to use you like a toy, fucking you with her strap relentlessly while you're not able to fight back at all with your hands tied... not even allowed to talk. The only thing you can do is cry and moan as she forces you take her cock. The more you struggled, the more the rope around your wrists tightened, causing a sharp stinging sensation. It was a stark reminder of your captivity and the control that Arlecchino wielded over you.
"Seeing that fucked out face of yours that once was so proud... so satisfying." she chuckled wickedly, slapping your face to keep your focus on her. "From now on, you belong to me. Understand?" The Knave asked in a mocking tone, making sure to hit your deepest spot while she waits for your answer.
"I unders--" Your words were cut off with a loud slap on your cheek and with strong thrusts that hits your cervix hard. Your mind went black for a moment as your tongue sticked out from all the abuse you're receiving.
"I won't repeat this again... Dogs. Don't. Talk." Arlecchino hissed, as she gives your ass a tight squeeze. "Again, do you understand?" Arlecchino posed her question with a commanding tone, expecting a specific response. Her gaze bore into you, daring you to repeat any past mistakes and emphasizing the consequences of disobedience.
"W-Woof..." The weight of your situation pressed down on you, and it felt as though your dignity had been completely stripped away. Tears streamed down your cheeks, a testament to the profound emotional turmoil and helplessness you were experiencing.
"Now that's a good dog. Behave just like that and you'll get a reward but for now... you have to accept your punishment." With a firm push, Arlecchino compelled you to lie down on the bed, and for a brief moment, you felt a fleeting sense of relief. However, that moment was short-lived, you went back to being a whimpering mess as she pounds away relentlessly. Making you cum over and over again until you lost all sense of time and your surroundings, caught in a harrowing and degrading experience that seemed to stretch on endlessly.
By the time Arlecchino was finished with you, you had been reduced to a sobbing and broken mess, the physical and emotional toll of the ordeal having left you in a state of despair.
"That was satisfying. Now, get some rest. Don't even think of trying something funny or you'll receive much worse than this." Arlecchino warned you as she held your now limp body into her arms tightly, giving you a little bit of comfort. Your body still trembling from the intense encounter and the pool of cum beneath you just made you feel worse, the wetness reminding you of how she humiliated and abused you the whole time.
Arlecchino lifted your chin, her intense gaze locked onto your eyes as she posed the question, "Have you learned your lesson?" With great effort, you nodded in response and, summoning the last of your strength, you managed to look at her, offering a reply that acknowledged your submissive role as her "dog."
"...woof."
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feitanii-ll · 2 months
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"𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄"
— [ or, the orange trends with various anime men.]
— [ft. reiner b, kento n, koutaru b, ichigo k, kyojuro r]
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"𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄..."
reiner is ever so attentive. he's made it clear since the beginning of your relationship that he would be at your beck and call for as long as he's alive. he's always happy to please you, and he's excellent at doing so— but this request seems different to him for some reason.
you go to question why your statement has him lighting up and buzzing with excitement, but he beats you to it,
"I just bought oranges!" the man beams. his eyes are slightly wide and swimming with happiness, which makes you smile,
"no way." you giggle
"yes!" he moves to the refrigerator, the slippers guarding his feet make a familiar shuffling sound as he walks. he pulls the door open, and lo and behold, there sits a large bowl of the orange fruit. "something told me, 'I should get some oranges. yn might be craving them', and like," he looks back and forth between you and the bowl, pleased and at a loss for words.
"I can't believe that, baby." you're also giggling in disbelief, moving to stand up and shuffle your way over to him as well. you don't hesitate to lean up and kiss him, bracing yourself on his strong arms as you lean up on your tip toes and peck at his lips, "you know me so well," another kiss "thank you.."
"you don't have to thank me," he sighs breathily, and he isn't surpised about the way you're still able to make him all shy and floaty, "um, have one," and he grabs the largest orange from the batch, which you take gratefully and share with your husband.
[ ་ . ° 🍊 ○• ]
"𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄"
with a schedule like his, kento finds himself unable to stop at all. he's constantly buzzing around and always working, so much so that he's including your scoldings towards him as part of his daily schedule.
but right now, as he sits in a diffused room that smells of lysol and vapor rub, listening to your sick coughs echoing throughout— he's completely still and complacent.
a calloused hand pats at the top of your head, and you shiver, even before the sound of your husband's deep and silky voice reaches you, "you want an orange, my love?"
"please, kento?" he frowns at the sound of your scratchy tone, "it'll make me feel better."
"of course, dear," you brace yourself for the kiss he presses to your head before he stands up, "can you do me a favor? take a nap, sweetheart. try and sleep, and I'll get you everything you desire."
you feel too icky and exhausted to try to argue, so instead, you shut your eyes and doze off, which gives your husband enough time to rush to the store and collect the oranges he knows aren't in the refrigerator.
when you wake up, you blink your blurry vision away to see a pretty sight. your husband resting peacefully beside you on a wooden chair and a bowl of your favorite fruits, diced all prettily in a large glass bowl— including the already peeled oranges within it.
"thank you, kenny..." you whisper to yourself as you're only met with soft snores.
[ ་ . ° 🍊 ○• ]
"𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄"
"no way, you too!? I thought I was the only one who felt that way!"
"kou..what do you..? what do you mean?" you're thoroughly confused as to what your husband was saying. he seems to be really excited and...confused about what you meant.
"okay, so just last Friday, I was talking to keiji over the phone, and he wouldn't believe me when I said that that day just felt so... pineapple-ish, ya know what I mean?"
you're afraid he's dead serious, and you don't have the heart to tell him that you in fact have no clue what he's talking about.
"honey, I mean like.." you smile as you gather the words, trying to explain, "I mean like I feel like an orange." maybe that wasn't the best way to put it. again.
"I know! although, personally, I feel a bit more like a pear today." oh..
"baby, I mean that as in 'I want an orange'" you're wheezing now. why was he so damn cute? dumb, but cute.
his face goes blank, and you swear there's nothing but dust behind his pretty golden eyes. "oh... so, you don't feel like the physical fruit? OH! OHhh, you mean you wanna actually HAVE an oran—"
"yes," you laugh in your hands, and the man laughs with you. you're both surprised at the spiel he had just went on.
"I thought you meant–"
"I know, kou" you sniff and sigh heavily, wiping a tear from your eye, "i know."
a long beat passes between you, in which you're both smiling stupidly at one another. that is until your husband breaks the silence again,
"might be a good time to tell you..." his words are shaky, teetering on a laugh, "we're out."
and the laughing between you two ensues one again.
[ ་ . ° 🍊 ○• ]
"𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄"
"we've got some in the fridge..." ichigo trails off as he sees you, just after turning his head away from the TV. "oh, you've got it already"
you were in fact already holding an orange in your hand, so why did you tell him that you were craving it. why weren't you just.. eating it?
"somwthin' the matter?" he lifts a brow, observing your entire body. he's known you long enough to understand that you want something. your arms are by your side, but your face and eyes are almost pleading, like you're embarrassed and wishing that he'd just read your mind and give you what you want. he's always so observant when it comes to you.
"can you peel it for me?" your lower lip juts out as you ask, and you're smiling shyly all the same.
"you want me to peel it for you?" he scoffs, and you'd think he's being rude if he wasn't already reaching his hand out to take it from you. he strips the fruit of its skin and smiles as he does, "you're spoilt"
"mhm," you nod in agreement, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, "your fault, by the way."
"yeah yeah," he rolls his eyes, outstretching his hand and handing you the fruit, "here, mama."
you bat your lashes playfully, looking down at his sitting form. you lean over, pressing your lips to his pale cheek and giving an over-dramatic hum and mwah! whilst wrapping your arms around his neck
"thank you, ichigo." you whisper, and your heart sputters as his chocolate brown eyes drift over to yours, half-lidded and staring deep into your own.
"mhm," he hums, "do you need anything else?"
a beat passes, and the man watches as you make your way past him to sit on the couch, immediately leaning into his side, "can I choose something to watch?"
he laughs, "yeah, of course."
[ ་ . ° 🍊 ○• ]
"𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄"
any other time, kyojuro would run to get you whatever you want. having been married for 5 years, kyojuro has made it his priority to take care of you.
which is why he's conflicted when you request an orange whilst lying in the medical center, bruised and bandaged after a 4 day long mission to slay a demon a long way out.
"wh..an orange? darling, I've got to stay here—"
"kyo, please.." your voice comes out in a whisper, reaching out to grip his bright haori, "I just want an orange... and a pain killer."
your husband sighs, conflicted. on one hand, he wants to stay by your side and aid you, but then again... your request for an orange was part of that. "my heart, I'll..I'll go. please, stay still?"
"im not going anywhere, am i?" you giggle, eyes watching as he goes to stand and head out the door.
when he comes back, you're sitting and looking out the window. gentle hands give you the fruit, and you thank him with a soft voice.
"thank you, kyo," you begin to peel the orange, "but i'm fine, I sw— ow" you hiss
"what's the matter!?" kyo's eyes are wide and he jumps up.
"im okay, honey" you giggle, looking at him. "the juice is making my cuts sting. could you peel it for me..?"
a sigh of relief leaves his mouth, and he sits back down with a racing heart, "yes.. here, give it to me." and he takes the orange from your hand, peeling it in no time. you smile at him, resting a gentle hand on his knee, which wipes the stressed look from off his face.
"I worry, my heart.." he sighs, and he holds out a slice to you, to which you open your mouth the eat it, "you got hurt so bad.."
"but I have you now. I'm fine, kyojuro. you've taken good care of me," you lean over and kiss his cheek, making his eyes flutter shut.
"always, honey. now, here. eat up!" he grins.
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© feitanii-ll
ALL STORIES BELONG TO ME!!
also, this is my second account because I think I was shadowbanned on my last one.
hope you liked this one
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illubean · 12 days
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Could I get headcanons for Feitan, Illumi, Leorio, and Chrollo falling for gn!reader who by all means seems like a strong, nuturing, emotionally stable individual but every once in awhile casually says or does smthin that makes people go "Oh you're a little fuckin nuts, actually"
(e.x.: Most of their D.I.Y. furniture is made of different kinds of bone, morbidly interested in the more gorey parts of their jobs, probably works in a field that allows them to be around the dead often like a taxidermist or a mortitian, highkey just unabashashedly a morbid little freak™️ whenever it comes up naturally in conversation but otherwise comes across as just an attentive lil guy you could bring home the average parents would love.)
HXH Men with a Morbid!S/o
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Characters: Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader
this is so me
Warnings: dead things and body parts and stuff
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Leorio Paladaknight
being an aspiring doctor, Leorio thought that your knowledge on both human and animal anatomy was pretty useful
at first he didn't think much about your job and just assumed you were some type of doctor or biologist or something
he often asks you questions as he studies and you're a pretty good tutor
the first time Leorio realized you were kinda weird is when one day you were walking down the street and saw some roadkill
and you were like "aww too bad, the skin and bones are too damaged to harvest"
and you kept walking like it was normal while he was like ?!!??!?
or you guys were having a normal conversation and you say something like
"if you died i'd taxidermy you and re-articulate your skeleton so you'd be with me forever <3"
1 taxidermizing humans is illegal and 2 WHAT
he is cold sweating wtf did he get himself into
when he comes to your house for the first time and sees a bunch of bones, animal skins and wet specimens he damn near passes the fuck out
how do you just casually have dead things and remains around your house!?
AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MADE YOUR COFFEE TABLE OUT OF CAMEL BONES?
he is freaking the fuck out and you're just like "dw everything is ethically sourced :D"
yeah he thinks you're a freak and he is too fearful to break up with you ever (not like he was planning to anyways)
Illumi Zoldyck
whatever drew Illumi to you had to have been some type of power
aside from that power, to Illumi you were relatively normal and had a good grip on your emotions which made you a perfect candidate
that being said he could care less what your job was, you'd just end up working for or with him eventually
when he started bringing you around the estate, you often sought out their guard dog Mike and Illumi couldn't think of why
that is until you came back one day with a human femur and bright smile on your face
"... where did you even get that?" "From one of Mike's victims. If I collect enough I could make a whole set of bar stools!"
he blinked at you and chose to ignore your statement
i mean, to each their own am i right?
so you have ah hobby, big deal
Illumi just thinks you're pretty normal personality wise until you randomly but casually drop information about what you do in your free time or have in your home
so now whenever he has a job Illumi calls you in for cleanup
you get to do.... whatever it is you do and there's no evidence of a dead body left behind, it's a win win
Chrollo Lucilfer
he couldn't care less what your job is because it's probably not worse than his 😭
he didn't really notice anything "morbid" about you until he asked about your jewlery
you wore things like resin caster bug pendants or bird skull earrings and stuff
he just assumed they were fake and you bought them because they looked badass
but then you told him you make it all YOURSELF
he is intrigued
he doesn't really question you past that because you were probably buying the bones and stuff somewhere (spoiler alert you're not)
what really caused him to think was when you casually just picked up a dead rat off the floor in some abandoned building you were exploring and suck it in your pocket
bro was so confused
"What do you need that for?" "To make a new necklace :3"
yeah now he knows that your odd taste in jewelry goes deeper than just that
he won't judge you though, if anything you're a better person than he is considering you don't kill things yourself
he is literally a murderer and a thief and has committed like 3467633788 crimes so he couldn't judge even if he wanted to
so now when he sees dead animals and what not he bags them up and brings them to you
he likes to sit in on your cleaning and making process
you seem like a perfectly normal and sweet person to everyone else but Chrollo knows about your freaky little hobby and it just makes him like you even more
Feitan Portor
I feel like for you and Feitan to even be acquainted you have to be part of the troupe
whatever you do outside of it is your business
buttttttt since you are his s/o and Feitan is probably homeless he crashes wherever you are
thus him finding out about your hobby and other job
out of everyone on this list he is the most interested
he too is a morbid little freak
he goes with you to find things and will help you with the cleaning/taxidermy or whatever process if you let him
what he doesn't understand though is why you don't just kill the things you want instead of hunting for already dead things
sometimes he will go catch like a squirrel or something and bring it back to you like a cat and tell you he found it like that
Fei baby. No the fuck you didn't
after doing what you're doing for so long you can tell what caused an animal to die but you wouldn't tell him that
he's just so cute and wants to be supportive of your hobby <3
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carrionhearted · 2 months
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There’s such a widespread ignorance regarding vulture culture. Yet there are sooooo many wildly varying groups of people who connect over it… pagan folk, indigenous peoples, biology nerds, goths, country folk, artists, archaeologists, general nature lovers, entomology nerds, zoologists… the list goes on.
I love bones, I love the stories they tell, I love getting to hold and examine and clean and identify them, I love getting to KNOW them. I love getting to give them a warm place to rest. I love keeping that piece of them alive and loved. I think that’s what people don’t understand about vulture culture.
We don’t collect dead things because we’re twisted sickos who enjoy suffering??? We do it because some core part of our identity connects deeply with nature and life’s cycle— and because we have an immense appreciation and respect for every stage of it. I myself am pagan, that cycle is so central to my practice/ beliefs. I am also autistic, and my special interest happens to be vulture culture. Just because I collect and preserve the dead doesn’t mean I’m going to like… bite? Idek what people expect. I just want to talk about osteology and give you cool animal facts. I can introduce you to my bone collection, I can tell you each animal’s individual story- I take care to remember them all.
You look at the dead and see suffering. I look at the dead and see what once lived, what grew, I feel so proud of them for that, I see their beauty, their worth even when they’re grotesque and withered. I witness a step in the ever-marching cycle of life. Just because it’s unsightly to you doesn’t mean it’s undeserving of love. There is no life without death, and so I worship death as I do life. When you die, you will rot, and THERE IS BEAUTY IN THAT!!!!
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delirious-donna · 8 months
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Atta Girl [Toji Fushiguro]
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Toji has a debt to collect and you just happen to be along for the ride as his new partner. He has no need for a partner, not unless you plan on putting that smartass mouth to better use?
pairing: Toji Fushiguro x female reader
warnings: face fucking, mean Toji, light asphyxiation, rough blowjob, light degradation, mentions of blood on clothes, implied violence (not detailed and reader is not harmed in any way), cum swallowing, if this looks familiar it's a touched up version of something I wrote last year!
Masterlist
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You didn’t think you could possibly miss the bickering of earlier, the yells of indignation at your mere presence, but it was far more preferable to the heavy silence of right now. Oppressive and sinister, even your measured breathing sounded deafening to your ears.
Toji Fushiguro regarded you with the dead eyes of a merciless killer, devoid of emotion and not even a smirk present on his scarred lips, it was terrifying. 
Of course, you had been unlucky enough to be partnered with the one man famed for being a lone wolf. A man that had grumbled and downright growled at you like an animal whilst you had both sat idling in the car. His chin rested against his broad palm, elbow braced on the sill of the door and he refused to meet your eye, not that you were trying particularly hard.
“Who the fuck said I needed any help? Stupid motherfuckers sending me some shitty piece of ass as backup… the fuck I need backup for?”
You hadn’t known which part to be more offended by; the insinuation that you couldn’t hold your own or the comment about you being a piece of ass. Pointing out that two were better than one had fallen on deaf ears, riling you to the point that insults were hurled like bladed weapons between the two of you.
With the air conditioning cranked to the max in a poor attempt to lower the temperature from your heated exchange, you swept your gaze over the infamous debt collector. Known for never losing a mark, always retrieving the goods and often in the most gruesome of ways, it was impossible to deny that he was hot. You never could hide your feelings and even as fucking pissed as you were at him, it was still been more than evident that you were interested. 
Toji was exactly your type, and that was the biggest problem because you had a thing for assholes. The type of man that would only ever call you things like “sweetheart” or “darling” for the sole purpose of avoiding the possibility of uttering the wrong name or worse, forgetting it altogether.
Men that wanted one thing, and it wasn’t like you were some innocent flower, but it’d be nice to be held once in a while after having your cunt split open and your make-up ruined by the steady flow of tears.
A basic white tee stretched taut across his upper torso and it only highlighted how strong Toji was, the cotton did very little to hide the definition of his chest and the cut of his strong abdominals. What might it be like to have the chance to ride those tawny abs? Thick veins ran the length of his forearms, curving over the bulge of his biceps and his hands looked like they could crush a windpipe with little effort.
Why did he have to be so fucking attractive? Why were you thinking with your pussy and not your brain? The man that you had known for all of five minutes had insulted you more times than you could draw breath, yet here you were, wet and horny.
Perhaps this was the reason your judgement lapsed. Too fogged by lust and decadent fantasies to see the ambush, and it had almost cost you your life. A job that had meant to be a cakewalk turned into a shoot out and honestly, it would have been your own fault if the worst had happened.
You were thankful that Toji had been there, that he had even bothered to shield you from the brunt of the attack and struck back with such deadly precision and fervour that you would swear he had otherworldly powers.
A choked thank you caught fast in your throat, wary of how icy his expression was whilst you took in the white tee that was now caked in drying blood and worse. A streak of crimson ran the length of his face and you wondered if he had been hurt and you simply hadn’t noticed in the carnage of the moment.
You reached out to cup his face, an instinct to care for him burning you alive but he caught your wrist before you could touch his cheek. Tough callouses rubbed at your soft skin, the roughened texture a stark contrast and one you enjoyed more than you were willing to admit.
“What the hell are ya playing at?” he yelled, forcing a meek squeak from your mouth as you jerked back from being grabbed and how angry he sounded at you.
“You’re hurt. I was…” your voice trailed away under the scrutiny of his cold, penetrating stare. A vein throbbed in the side of his thick neck and you watched it, unable to maintain eye contact with him. You were wilting faster than a flower caught in a heatwave.
“Where’s your shitty attitude gone, huh? Lost your bark now that I had to save your sorry ass? Told ya I didn’t need a goddamn partner. Nothing but fuckin’ trouble.”
Toji tossed your captured hand back into your lap, ripping down the sun visor to stare at his bloody reflection in the mirror with a heavy frown. You watched him covertly, or so you hoped. It was wrong to continue finding him sexy, especially dripping in blood but it only fed that primitive image you liked so very much. It suited him to look so dangerous and capable of violence at the drop of a hat. It kept you on your toes, never daring to find his presence comforting for fear that would be the moment he finally struck.
“I know ya like whatcha see, princess, keep staring and imma do something ‘bout it,” Toji threatened, fixing his gaze on you through the reflective surface of the mirror.
You squirmed. You blushed. You felt downright stupid. Embarrassment burned in your chest, turned you petulant once more and your sassy tongue returned with a bow.
“Yeah right. Like I’m interested in a slick motherfucker that has no respect for anyone. I’d rather suck on a cactus!”
Toji was a hair’s breadth away from snapping. There you went running that fucking mouth again. The mouth that had done nothing but snark since he had picked you up earlier that morning. It didn’t matter that it was an attractive mouth, plump lips that would look even better kiss swollen and a tongue that he would like to tangle with. None of that mattered when you couldn’t hold your own just like he had predicted.
Venom laced his every movement, acid burning in his veins as he raked your body without a care in the world for masking his action. You were pretty, a firecracker personified and he wanted to show you how he shut up little girls like you.
He had wanted to fuck the brat out of you since the moment he had laid eyes upon you. He was still pissed at being told he had to have a partner on this job but perhaps taking you would be the reward for swallowing that bitter pill.
Having to actively protect someone other than himself, and with no monetary reimbursement on top of it, he was beyond pissed and you’d know about it soon enough.
Toji moved faster than you could possibly comprehend in your tiny mind, a bloodied hand wrapping around the slender column of your throat. Thick fingers squeezed down, your supply of air drastically reduced until you are gasping and choking.
His free hand worked at his belt, never taking his penetrating stare away from your flustered face. Toji smirked in the knowledge that he was indeed correct, you were a slut for this kind of rough treatment. Cheeks warm, eyes glossy and rather than clawing at his hand for freedom, you were clinging to him with a heaving chest. Every inhale a struggle that parted your lips further and further.
“Not so fucking chatty now, are ya? I’ve got an even better idea of how to keep that mouth from spouting venom,” he hissed at you.
Your eyes grew impossibly wide as Toji’s girthy beast of a cock slapped against his abs, shirt pushed up whilst he worked on freeing himself. The tip was a deep angry scarlet, weeping thick pearls of silvery precum. A prominent mushroom head with a ridge that made your mouth salivate and twin stark veins running the length of the underside of his shaft.
He pumped it almost lazily whilst his hold on your throat relaxed, his hand moving to the back of your head and you found that you were inching closer and closer to his pussy ruining dick. The mere thought of that monster forcing your walls apart was enough for a slutty moan to roll past your lips, much to his amusement.
“That’s better. Knew ya were a filthy little thing, now then. Suck it good and I’ll consider fucking ya like you want.”
There was no second given to contemplate his request, not a chance at being able to brace yourself for what was to come. Your lips barely parted in time for his sticky tip to slip past.
Groaning at the heavy, musky taste of his skin and mingling arousal, you lapped at him like an eager little kitten. His grip shifted to trap your hair around his fist, giving an experimental tug that lifted you momentarily and caused you to whine in protest. Toji’s dark laughter rumbled through his chest, pushing you back down and forcing more of his cock between your lips.
Toji let his head fall back for a moment, the relief of your wet and wanton mouth cooling the very worst of his fiery temper. You really were very cute, sucking on his tip like it’s the first cock you’ve ever sucked and he couldn’t help himself from lifting his hips to push further into your mouth.
Your squirming lower half crouched on the passenger seat wiggled from side to side and he knew exactly what was on your mind, but first, you’d have to earn it. There was never a chance of reward without hard work.
Reclining his seat, Toji hummed at the sensation of your tongue exploring and learning his length. Your tongue flattened wide to run up and down his length before switching to a speared point to flick into the weeping slit and lave around the ridge of his cockhead.
You’re good, almost too good. He groans deep in his throat when your cheeks suction further and those wide eyes blink up into his face. You’d be fucking smiling if you could and that only made him grit his teeth in irritation, grinding down on his molars.
“Think you're such a clever cocktease, dontcha? This ain't your first cock but I bet it's the first that'll ruin ya like ya really want.”
With those words, Toji tightened his grip around your hair. His free hand pinched into your cheeks to halt the rhythmic bobbing of your head. Terrified eyes snapped to his face and he only smiles, that cold deadly mask back in place and the stretch of his scarred lips turns your blood icy.
His hips snapped upward, fucking into your mouth and forcing his fat cock deep into your throat to bully past the soft tissue at the back of your mouth. You gag around him, not a hint of oxygen getting past the blockage that is his dick. Air rushes through your nose and for a second you worried he’d pinch it shut, but it doesn't come. 
Falling back with a roll of his head along his shoulders, those sinfully dark eyes watched the thick viscous strands of saliva and arousal drip from your mouth with nothing but amusement on his face. There is only a second of reprieve to let you cough and swallow down air desperately before Toji plunged back into you. Spit bubbled at the corners of your lips, drooling slowly towards your chin and he wiped a finger through the mess to press into his mouth with a hum of satisfaction.
His pace was punishing and you knew it would be the same if he were fucking your drooling cunt. Every stroke deepens until your nose is pressed right against his stomach, the muscles contracting wildly and the coarse hairs of his pelvis scratched at your face. He held you there and you clawed at his thick muscular thighs, begging for release but also knowing that he was close to release. 
With cock twitching, a groan of pleasure sounded from his chest and the first waves of his sticky cum shot down your abused throat. Toji drew his hips back with a hiss, slapping his sensitive cock atop your pink tongue and painting it white. His bloodied hand pumped his shaft, milking it clean of everything he had whilst you could only blink through heavy tears and try not to swallow it before he finished.
Toji admired the sea of cum upon your tongue, your flushed cheeks and tears sliding down along with ruined mascara. He liked you just like this, preferred you silent with his load in your mouth. Maybe he would keep you, you’d be a real treat to break completely.
“Atta girl, swallow it all and c’mere. I’ve got plans for you…”
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y-rhywbeth2 · 5 months
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D&D Vampire Lore Dump #2
"Biology" Their "metabolism" and their physical body, their senses, why they're not aging and "vampires actually make fantastic torture victims, if you're a monster: vampire healing and how to inflict scars on them."
OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER FOR FIRST TIME READERS: There are two things to note about the lore presented here: First, while the standard stat block in the monster manual is the default, in terms of lore vampires have this annoying tendency to be incredibly, stupidly varied. They are magical monstrosities ruled by the power of symbolism and superstition above anything else.
The next is that D&D is decades old, spans five editions, several settings and hundreds of writers. One guy establishes a piece of lore, and then the next picks it up goes "nah" and writes something else. I collected info from four different source books, all from different editions, which naturally don't entirely agree on how vampires work. Lore never stays consistent and may contradict itself. You may see information somewhere else from a source I don't have that contradicts what I wrote here. If you read this and like some of this stuff but not other bits, take the good and ditch the rest. Larian themselves have not written BG3 totally compliant with some established D&D lore or the original games.
Basically, in D&D, canon is what you decide it is.
Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy | Weaknesses and Cures | Psychology
The transformation into a vampire causes little physical change, except for the fangs, and the fact that their facial features seem take on a permanent hardened expression, appearing more "feral" in a way that is likened to a starving wolf. Spawn moreso than freed vampires, and in 5e they have claws despite the fact that freed vampires don't. Sometimes a vampire's eyes turn red upon changing, but this doesn't always happen.
Most of the vampire's five senses are sharpened by undeath. They can see perfectly in the dark, for example, and are very hard to catch off guard. The only one that gets duller than it was when they were alive is the sense of touch - "a blunt, phantom sense of touch, more mechanical than biological. It is a pale, crude approximation of a real tactile sense." They don't feel the effects of physical exertion and their ability to feel pain is dulled (but not nonexistent). They're not particularly bothered by high or cold temperatures unless they're at extremes (like frostbite levels, or "standing by a lava pool" levels). They're also largely unbothered by electric shocks.
They don't breathe, though they do actually have a heartbeat as their blood still gets pumped around their body. It doesn't provide any biological need of a living circulatory system, but is possibly part of keeping the body animated via magic.
Vampires do not produce body heat and tend to be room temperature to the touch unless they've fed within the last 24 hours, in which case they appear alive.
Lacking brain activity on account of being dead, vampires are immune to mind effecting spells and psionics. The fact that Astarion is affected by the tadpole is likely due to Netherese magic. The parasite is canonically modifying his undead state to its needs and has shut down his vampiric abilities, as he observes in one banter.
Their physical abilities massively increase. They have superhuman strength, speed and reflexes and are far more durable than the living.
Vampiric blood looks like humanoid blood at first glance, but takes on a golden sheen when held up to a light source. Also if the vampire it came from is still alive, then that blood can have strange magic properties… which are random! Maybe it burns like acid, or puts you under mind control if you touch it, or explodes into flame when exposed to sunlight! You won't know 'til you find out, it could do anything or nothing.
Vampires are capable of siring partially-undead children with the living (Dhampirs). Dhampirs are alive but as they grow up and their undead heritage starts to manifest they begin to share their vampire parent's cravings and feeding habits and are not terribly fond of said parent, as a rule.
Vampires are the only undead that require sleep. That turned out to be a very long topic of its own though, so maybe I'll focus on the details another time. Short version: Vampires have an instinctive knowledge of how close sunrise is. Some vampires can chose to sleep much like humans, others will immediately shut down the second the sun appears over the horizon and be dead until the moment it next sinks below said horizon, at which point the vampire is 1000% aware and awake again. They are bound to soil from their grave/homeland and must sleep on/in that or be destroyed. In BG3 specifically, looking at Cazador, elves still reverie (trance) in undeath. (In reverie, elves relive their memories of years gone by in vivid real time instead of dreaming. It's how elves avoid forgetting their own lives while living 700+ years) Vampires also hibernate, where they chose to go into a deep sleep for an unknown and uncontrollable length of time reaching centuries in length. Usually due to depression.
A vampire's body is frozen in time, and they will always have the same appearance they had when they died. The magic that keeps the vampire frozen in time, unageing, also gives them regenerative properties as it tries to reset them. Within minutes of receiving a wound, the wound has closed itself as if it were never there. "Wounds close, broken bones reform themselves, even missing limbs regenerate…" Reducing a vampire to 0 hit points also does not kill them, but that's for a later instalment. If one were to torture a vampire one could get both incredibly creative and make it last indefinitely.
They also can't get new tattoos or piercings, as the body heals them over again and pushes out the ink/metal. On the same logic if they had body modifications before they died then they'd never be able to get rid of them - if you scrape off the skin a tattoo is on or tore off a pierced lobe, the skin that grows back will still have the tattoo and the ear will have the hole for the earing still there.
However, there are forms of magical damage that inflict permanent marks on a vampire, which are called stigmata. Sunlight, holy water, holy symbols and the like are known to leave a scar. A silver plated blade might also do it.
There are two energy planes: Positive and Negative. Also known as the Planes of Life and Death, whose energies infuse the Prime Material Plane (which contains worlds like Earth and Toril). Living creatures are powered by positive energy (also called "radiant"), while the undead are animated by negative energy ("necrotic"). It's actually theorised that the undead somehow exist on the Prime Material Plane and the Negative Energy Plane simultaneously, though this seems gets into a lot of planar lore and conflicting information that I'm not going into. Traditionally, due to this difference, the undead are healed by spells made of negative/necrotic energy such as Inflict Wounds spells, but in reverse would be harmed by healing spells. 5e has not included this detail, that I've seen.
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semisolidmind · 5 months
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i know it's all about the lion's den AU rn and as usual I am FEASTING on the content (excuse the crumbs) but there's an idea that won't leave me alone-
what if Peaches was not human, but an immortal from the beginning? How much would change? I know the whole appeal of these AUs - I mean, that's why I love them and I absolutely love this lil corner of the fandom. but I've been kinda diving into the whole immortality biz in Chinese myths for my oc, so now I'm curious.
Peaches could be someone cultivating and practicing Xian (i hope I'm using that right) for years, or consumed pills/elixir of immortality somehow, or a demon who is oddly very kind and empathetic - would the bois still love her just as much? How different is the dynamic now even if Peaches retains her core personality traits?
love your work! and hydrate before ya diedrate
ive been thinking about this, and i kinda like the idea of immortal reader being an attendant of the heavenly peach orchard.
not super high up the ladder, but not at the bottom either. her powers are limited to helping plants grow just a little bit, creating temporary barriers, and being able to float the way all celestials can. the higher-ups figure that since no one is bold or stupid enough to steal from heaven, they don’t need any extra security in the immortal peach groves.
you can take a guess as to how reader meets the monkeys.
they show up to the orchards, ready to fight their way to the peaches, but instead of some overpowered celestial soldiers guarding the orchard, it's....one immortal maiden. just the one. but she doesn't seem all that powerful, soooooo...
...maybe she'd agree to let them take a few without too much trouble?
the monkey bros go the "oh don't mind us we're just a couple of cute lil monkeys, here to cause adorable and harmless mischief" route in their approach to getting reader to let her gaurd down.
they approach her while she takes a break from pruning some dead branches. she's understandably surprised and suspicious about these two seemingly normal monkeys who've snuck in, but... they are pretty cute. and tame; they let her pet them and give them scritches. perhaps they're one of the heavenly official's pets. reader supposes that they can stay for a while.
wukong and macaque play their parts, get reader's guard down, and steal a couple dozen peaches each. reader notices, but there's not much she can do beyond shooing the monkeys out with a broom (and her soft heart barely allows her to do that). she knows that if she reports it, those cute lil monkeys will be hunted down and killed.
she supposes she could put in a request for higher walls around the grove, or more barriers (she still wonders how the boys managed to get through the first ones), but with how slowly things get done in the bureaucracy...it'd be a very, very long time until it was even brought up in court.
besides, even then....they're monkeys. animals. she won't place blame on them for being what they are. those little cuties probably had no idea that the immortal peaches were any different from the ones on earth.
she could never stay mad at their adorable lil faces anyways.
---
reader, despite what you might think, has a pretty laid back job. once all her chores for the day have been completed (those magic trees don't really need much beyond the essentials to do their thing), she has a good amount of free time to sit and, you guessed it—read.
macaque (because of course, he has to be the first one to fall in every au) decides, on a bored whim, to go visit that nice attendant they stole from not too long ago. perhaps he'll collect some intel while he's up there.
he finds her after a bit of searching. reader sits in a secluded corner of the grove, leisurely turning pages and enjoying the shade. macaque, still disguised, sidles up to her. reader notices, seeming surprised to see him before her face morphs into... a rather adorable pout. perhaps she thinks she's being intimidating.
'damn, no wonder the bureaucracy didn't think they needed any more security,' macaque thinks sarcastically. such a fearsome maiden they've chosen to guard the immortal peaches.
while reader takes a minute to admonish him about stealing, it isn't long before she sighs and gives up on her lecture in favor of scratching him gently behind his ears. he churrs low in his chest. her whole demeanor is as soft and sweet as the peaches she guards (her hands as well, he notes, pressing into them).
macaque laughs internally. a fearsome maiden, indeed.
macaque manages to wiggle his way into reader's lap, pulling her attention from her book. she knows she should be trying to scare him off, but...just—just look at him! he's so cute, and she's too pulled in by how cute he is to notice the oddly powerful aura he seems to exude (far too powerful to be a normal monkey). he enjoys her touch for a while longer before he hears the far-off call of his annoying brother, wondering where he is. he bumps his head into reader's hand by way of goodbye before running off to shadow away more secretively.
reader watches him go, sighing. she really should shoo him away next time.
---
macaque keeps coming back. and reader continues to be unable to kick him out.
with very few visitors and no one else to talk to, reader begins to tell him everything that she overhears during the day; the officials don't think anyone is listening when they air out their gossip as they walk by the orchard. she doesn’t know it, but she’s saving macaque the energy of using his powers to gather this intel on his own.
the six-eared demon makes a habit of showing up to the grove to laze around with his favorite maiden and listen to her read, using “spying” as the excuse he gives his brother for why he's been running off so often. reader seems to have accepted that he won't be leaving her alone any time soon, and he takes full advantage. macaque comes to think of reader and the secluded corner of the grove as his own little peice of heaven.
of course, sooner or later, wukong joins in. he's a bit angry that macaque didn't just say he was visiting the peach orchard and it's attendant; he wouldn't have minded, he would've come with! macaque doesn't bother trying to explain that he didn't want to share.
but share he does, seeing as wukong greedily takes all the attention from reader he can get. the monkey king finds himself enamored with the maiden who's hands and heart are as soft as the fruits she tends to. he won't admit it (it may hurt his carefully crafted "ruthless demon king" image if he did), but wukong is a cuddle bug when it comes to reader. everything about her is just so soft, and she's so kind, and she always smells like peaches—he could spend hours laying on her chest as she reads.
he just feels so...peaceful, with her.
the boys are entangled in reader's life, visiting whenever they can and butting into whatever she happens to be doing. they see her day to day happiness (brief conversations with the lower maids she's friends with), and her struggles (the two monkeys bore witness to the officials taking their anger out on reader over something trivial, their rage towards heaven growing stronger). the two grow more and more attached to her as time goes on.
and so they begin to work a small abduction into the grander scheme of their plan.
---
sooner or later, the monkey warlords properly raid heaven. they and their demon army storm the jade palace, murdering servants, footsoldiers, and as many officials as they can. the monkey king and the six-eared macaque lead a massacre so bloody it stains the palace walls red. wukong especially holds back none of his rage, getting caught up in his hatred for heaven and zealously continuing to shed as much celestial blood as he can.
during a lull in the chaos, macaque, covered in vicera, makes his way to the immortal peach grove. with the battle coming to a close and the demon forces being driven back, now is as good a time as ever to snatch up a special “peach” for himself and his brother.
he finds said peach preoccupied with a gallant attempt at protecting herself and a few lower maids from a demon soldier, using a series of barriers. the soldier breaks the barriers almost as fast as reader can make them, rapidly pushing her and her companions into a corner. reader puts up a brave fight, but she's a celestial attendant, not a celestial warrior.
macaque calls out to the soldier, halting their attack and telling them to regroup with the others and prepare to move out. the soldier complies, crassly assuring the women that they’re about to be nothing more than bloody pulp on the garden wall. no one has ever gone against the shadow general of the demon army and lived.
macaque waits until the soldier is out of sight before leisurely approaching the still quivering group of maids and their determined, but exhausted looking guard. reader tenses as he steps closer. she feels a horrible sense of dread crawl down her spine when she gets a good look at him.
the dark fur, the shape of the mask marking on his face...reader feels tears start to bead at the corners of her eyes.
this entire time, she'd been petting and coddling the six-eared macaque. the second in command of the dreaded demon army has been sitting right in front of her and she had no idea. reader can barely keep her breathing steady.
and if this is her dark-furred companion, then the lighter-furred one must be…oh stars.
…she let the monkey king in.
she practically threw open the doors for him. she didn’t report them when she should have, she knew there was something strange about them but she was so sure they were just normal animals—oh stars above, if the jade emperor ever discovered this, she’d be executed.
but…but reader steels herself. she can deal with that later. her friends are counting on her.
now, she’s certainly not expecting the blood-covered demon general across from her to be open to bargaining (he could just kill all of them now, but reader gets the feeling he wouldn't be merciful enough to end it quickly). and he knows exactly what leverage he has over her, she can see it in the smug look on his face.
but she tries anyways.
“let them go, please,” she begs breathlessly, arms shaking from the strain of maintaining her magic. the least she can do is buy her friends a moment more. “do whatever you want with me, but they are blameless.”
macaque chuckles, the sound reverberating lowly between the trees. whatever he wants, huh? oh, sweet peach. she should know better than to give him so much leeway.
“that is tempting. if that’s the case, then perhaps you’ll go with me willingly,” he muses, tail swaying slowly. his fangs glint dangerously when he smirks.
“don’t fight, and no harm will come to them. that, and your secret will be safe with me. honest."
reader doesn’t believe him. she can’t, but she and her friends are so low priority that calling for help would be useless. if the demon army has been as effective as the screaming would lead her to believe, the celestial host has much bigger problems than rescuing a gardener and some lowly maidservants. and with the chance that she’ll be seen through and blamed for every gory death that's happened beyond the walls of the peach groves...
she doesn’t have a choice.
reader slowly, cautiously lowers her barriers, despite the worried cries of the maids behind her. they cower closer together as reader takes a slow step closer to macaque.
with a flick of his wrist, reader is struck by a sleeping spell so potent she falls into macaque's waiting arms like a lead weight. the demon gathers his beloved into his hold with a gentleness that doesn't fit his gory visage.
he sinks into a shadow, leaving the maids to clutch each other and cry at the loss of reader and the near loss of their own lives.
---
reader wakes up days later in the royal bedchambers of the stone palace. she startles at seeing the monkey king and the six-eared macaque laying on either side of her, stripped to just a loose pair of pants each. she herself has been changed to a comfortable silk robe, her own clothing nowhere to be seen.
reader feels a cold sludge in her gut. she scrambles out of the pillow pit, kicking a few into the face of one of her captors as she goes. she checks herself over, looking for bite marks, claw marks, anything to indicate the two demons sharing a bed with her had violated her in any way. she looks, and breathes a heavy sigh.
she finds nothing.
"we figured we'd wait until you were awake to start marking territory," the tired, yet still somehow smug voice of the monkey king chimes from behind her. reader turns to see the demon leveling an amorous look her way. his gold and crimson eyes burn like fire in the low light.
reader ignores him in favor of falling to her knees and burying her face in her hands. now that she has a moment to think, her failure has decided to take centerstage; she was the one who let the monkey king into the jade palace, she let him steal the immortal peaches, she's the one who carelessly shared all the gossip that told them when the best time to attack would be, she's to blame for all the lives lost—
"hey. y'know we would've raided heaven even if we hadn't met you, right? it's not your fault," macaque says, propping his head in his hand to look at her. he doesn't have the decency to hide how he's sizing her up, poison purple eyes glowing whilst tracing her curves. reader shrinks into herself a bit more.
"yep. don't feel too bad, peaches. i was never gonna spare any of those bureaucrats in the first place," wukong adds. "and besides, none of those guys cared about you anyway, so why feel bad?"
reader sobs, pressing her hands to her eyes. she knows. she knows how callous the officials could be, but that doesn't mean they deserved to die. it doesn't mean the servants and foot soldiers who were only following orders deserved their fates.
she hears movement, then feels a set of strong, furred arms wrap around her. wukong rests his head on her shoulder. he nuzzles his nose against her neck. she feels his warm breath and the glance of deadly sharp fangs when he speaks.
"they didn't deserve the mercy you seem to think they did."
---
wukong places a seal on reader's powers. what little defense she had against them is gone with the placement of a brand-like marking in between her shoulder blades (and a few more along her shoulders made with his teeth).
reader can't do anything. wukong won't let her leave, and even if she could, the heavenly court will have her executed if she goes back. so, she remains on the monkey king's mountain.
she didn't think she'd share a fate with the precious fruit she'd failed to protect.
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solarrclxud · 2 months
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HAPPY VALENTINES
pairing : multi x reader (wriothesley , neuvillette , childe , ,xiao )
genre: fluff
warnings : not proofread , the use of " my love"
a/n: well guess who just got revived from the dead ! (its me hello) ALSO ill be getting to my inbox soon! thank you for the requests while i was gone !
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Wriothesley watched you dust a shelf that held his extravagant and excessive tea collection . You were muttering something about how he really needed to clean more often when he shifted his head off of his palm to grin . You squinted at him . " You're being suspicious" you prodded him. He shook his head and looked down to the work he was supposed to be doing as you resumed dusting , moving to the shelf below , only to see a tiny box behind the usual boxes of tea. With a slight frown you attempted to move it to the front . As you put it down , something rattled within and u heard wriothesley get up from his chair . " Finally, i thought you'd never find it" he laughed. You stared at him confused . He smiled and made his way over to you , opening the box in your hands to reveal a keychain . One you'd seen in the market a few days ago but hadn't bought.
" Happy valentines my love "
Xiao was deliberate with his gifts. They were frequent and personal. Thanks to him, you had an entire box tucked away in your cupboard , full to the brim with charms to ward off evil, flowers he had picked up and chunks of ore he had carved while u slept. Today when you awoke to a piece of jade used as a paperweight for a small note on your side table, it was not a new occurrence. The note was written in beautiful flourish and u smiled as you read it. A simple good morning and a wish for a good day. You didn't think much of it through the day as you went about the Harbor , couples exchanging simple affection was a usual for you to see at the cafe u ran but today it seemed more frequent. In the evening you walked back to the Inn , to find Xiao pacing on the balcony, slightly red faced. When you called to him , he jumped like a startled animal before he smiled a little, holding out what seemed to be a hair piece fashioned from the same kind of jade he had given to u in the morning.
"i have heard that mortals have this celebration of love. i thought it fit hat we must take part as we are...in love."
Childe was out on a business trip. His absence felt strangely heavy that day due to the presence of couples around liyue harbour. You had longed to see him for a week now but all you had was a letter from a few days after he had left , dating his return to the next month. It was one of his longer trips no doubt . As you got home that evening, you unlocked your home and was met with the sound of someone already there. You frowned , grabbing a knife from the kitchen as you etched towards the sound of...singing? Now that you thought about it the voice was familiar. You entered your bedroom to childe leaning over a bouquet of flowers strategically placed on the bed humming a tune in obvious excitement. You began to laugh, causing him to turn around to see you and inevitably join in.
"the job finished faster than planned, thanks to my expertise so i thought id suprise you ! happy valentines!"
Neuvillette was a doting lover, and contrary to his professional persona, at home he was nothing but a tired man. That morning you woke up to him for the first time in what felt like ages. You checked the clock, 10am, he was late. You uttered his name softly in an attempt to wake him up. He just hummed and nuzzled further into you, it was obvious he was awake by the soft smile on him face. " Neuvi you're late" . He shook his head and pulled you closer. His voice muffled as he said,
"I took a day off...i have a reservation at a restaurant but can we go back to bed for now my love?"
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slaying with the comeback (school is murdering me)
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