#if it shall take him a thousand more years - so be it

[molinaesque]

Such a shame. I'll make sure you live long enough... To watch it burn.

#bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 raphael #raphael bg3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #seriously andrew's acting and the animation is SO good #the sheer disappointment #this amazing moment right here where you can practically see him go through the 5 stages #so bitter about investing so much of his efforts (and possible future prospects) on tav #being genuinely mad at the betrayal #and then coming to terms with it #if it shall take him a thousand more years - so be it #he shall walk this road alone again - everyone be damned #bg3gifs

[merakiui]

never-ending noctuary; love forevermore.

yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, non-con, overblot!malleus, obsession, breeding, baby-trapping, malleus is written to have two dicks, spoilers for part two of book seven note - and sitting powerful on his throne of thorns, omniscience at his fingertips, the lord of malevolence takes a bride.

An eerie, all-consuming quiet has fallen over Sage’s Island.

It is frigid and unfriendly like winter. Harsh and oppressive like silence. Painful and abrasive like brambles. Time has come to a swift halt here, and with it the people fall into never-ending euneirophrenia. Delights so dreamy shall inhabit the minds of all who sleep, the grandest gift granted to those unwilling. Like fate itself, wound around every living soul, it is inescapable. Inevitable like death—unfair and unforgettable.

But then it is also peaceful and secure. Quaint and warm like a blanket. Fluffy and floral like spring’s first kiss. Solace is far sweeter when spent in oneiric solitude, and so it will seem for one-thousand years. Forevermore, stretched taut into the future, the dream persists.

Is that not the best blessing? To those who wish to savor a fleeting moment just a second more, is this not a wish granted generously tenfold? Rather than immortalizing the past with photographs, it shall never come to pass. There is no need for bittersweet recollections or tearful farewells. The present will persevere, lived out in endless dreams.

Surely this is the correct course. Not just for Malleus, for he is a gentle, kind creature who recognizes the mutual desire for interminable merriment, but for the entirety of the island. Although in hoping for love forevermore, he has shackled himself to selfish, Epicurean pleasures. The type which normally lasts as long as a vision spent on cloud nine.

Currently, sitting proud and alone on a cold throne, Malleus knows of no greater joy.

The party may have fallen still as the grave, bodies slumbering in stiff propinquity, but it hasn’t finished. The food may have congealed, inedible and decaying, but it is there. A testament to spirits kept aloft, if only to ensure no one ever knows the desolation of endings.

Paradise is what you make of it. Thus, should you hope for it, you can walk on the clouds in your mind and never know of Icarus’s plights. You can shed insecurities and anxieties and taste delectable metamorphosis. You can be anyone and anything. You can be strong and wealthy. You can be fearless and heroic. You can be an impossible ideal.

You can be loved.

Malleus watches your seemingly lifeless form splayed on the sofa, limbs draped over that of Ace and Deuce. It’s a tranquil sight, a marionette freed from the strings of somber, suffocating life.

Under a roof of thorns, you are reborn.

Paradise is wondrous for Malleus, albeit a touch silent. He wonders what you might say if you were to stand at his side and observe this eternal slumber party. Would it fill you with awe? With appreciation? With abject terror?

Perhaps there is no use in theorizing. He doesn’t need to know, for you will love him even in sleep.

He rises, taking each step at a time. Thorny branches and roots part to make way for him, a groom traversing the aisle in search of his bride. You lie still, secrets sealed behind pretty, plush lips, and if he was not the cause for your current state he might assume you were late.

But there is no death here. It cannot reach. It will never reach because Paradise knows not of death or suffering.

Paradise is the garden before the infestation. Paradise is the body before bacterial devastation. Paradise is love before departed lamentation.

Malleus gazes at your restful face, leaning down to trace a clawed, blot-tainted finger along your cheek. There are no tears; you are a doll incapable of such sorrow, sculpted to portray perfect neutrality. He is most pleased with this development, his chest rumbling with a triumphant chuckle. Now you shall never know an ending ever again. Now you shall remain here, safe and stagnant in his arms, far from the mirror that may allow you to return home.

Gathering your body in his arms, he lifts you from the cushions. You crumble in his grasp, head lolling and arms noodling at your sides. Sagging dead weight, but he places his ear to your chest to listen to the melodic thrum of your heart. You’re alive, frailty shielded from the horrors of the world. Here, in thorny idyll, you will live forevermore.

Historically, all rulers must have someone to call their own. Whether it be by way of arrangement or convenience, strung together for the sake of conjoined power or out of obligation, this is an irrefutable fact. Historically, all rulers must bear an heir—someone to carry on the glory of an ever-present lineage.

Malleus refuses to bring a child into the world unless they are given the blessing of the one thing he was deprived of since birth.

A mother.

You fit in his embrace, a puppet tugged into a one-sided waltz. He steps over fallen bodies as he holds you against his chest, following the routine even though you aren’t awake to reciprocate.

Historically, a married pair must share the first dance. Or that’s what he’s read in fairy tales.

There are no rings here; promises are left unspoken. He won’t entertain rejection because there is no room for it in Paradise. Every unsavory, horrid thing—pestilence and pain, death and destruction, and sadness and sin—is packed away in Pandora’s box and shelved. Malleus won’t risk opening it to release the tiny shred of hope desperately clawing for escape. It’s not worth it.

He will foster his own hope if he must, and she exists in his arms—beautifully motionless.

The steps are executed with care, up the stairs and towards a lonesome chair. He attempts a twirl, lowering you into a dip. Your arms hang limply, eyes shut in permanence. Brimming with fondness, Malleus tugs you back up to press his lips to your forehead.

“Dearest one,” he mumbles, “may you know many fruitful fantasies in the arms of Morpheus.”

He reclaims his seat and situates you to face him while perched on his lap. You slump against him, near-boneless. He smiles at you, imagining the ruckus that would certainly come about from such a daring gesture. Sebek would squawk at you to have more respect and dignity. Silver would tut and shake his head. Lilia would look on in amusement.

These are small pleasantries, little wishes he hopes to witness someday.

Historically, a married pair must consummate their bond.

Malleus’s fingertips flit across your figure, feeling fabric beneath his palms. He tries to exercise restraint and take it slow—everything in moderation, Lilia would remind him—but he can’t contain his nympholepsy. Your clothes are discarded at once, shredded to scraps in his haste. He moves clumsily, following the searchlight of intrinsic ardor. You’re softer when bare, he observes, peeling your bra from your skin. A pallid hand presses down onto your breast, the pudge of which caves beneath his fingers. He withdraws and it bounces back to its shape.

Fascinating, he marvels with wide, enchanted eyes.

Claws tweak at your hardened nipples next. He’s careful because you’re notably weaker. Even in sleep, he must mind his hedonism. Too much and you will break. Too little and he’ll be left unsatisfied. Malleus watches your expression. It was mostly neutral, but now your eyebrows are twitching in response to his touch.

In sleep, you are the most vulnerable.

He knows this because he’s peered in from afar, admiring you through a glass barrier while you slept unaware in Ramshackle. He would never do anything without invitation. Though it may not be in writing, your body is oh-so-inviting. And he indulges because he’s only known this fervor in the deepest, darkest dreams.

Curiously, in his pursuit of passion, Malleus happens upon the special space between your legs. Delicate like a flower, it’s the prettiest part of your anatomy. If he wishes to connect with you, to tie himself to you in unholy communion, he must acquaint himself with this sliver of seventh heaven. He’s never seen one up close; the sight is foreign but very welcome. He drinks it in, burning your form into his retinas. Two fingers trace your labia, stroking along flowery folds in V-shaped strokes. You twitch in his arms, an unconscious, knee-jerk reaction.

At some point, in the middle of his experimental exploration, Malleus begins to hum. It’s a soft, genial lilt. Low and soothing, the lullaby fills the silent halls of Diasomnia’s common room like poison gas.

He contemplates whether this is enough. Can you feel these sensations even when you’re so deep in your dreams? Perhaps so, for when he brushes back the hood protecting your clit to rub at it you soak his fingers. Lubricious, your wetness shimmers on his fingertips when he pulls them away to admire the very essence of you. Without hesitation, he places his fingers on the pad of his tongue to clean both. It’s a divine taste, proof of pleasure.

You cannot speak, so instead your body does so for you. A most bewitching behavior.

Malleus’s hand slithers back towards home, his fingers sliding in with surprising ease. Gummy walls cling to slender digits, embracing the intrusion as if it’s meant to be. With each pump of his fingers, your body warms. The sinful squelch of scissoring fingers joins his humming in a salacious song. Every now and then, you spasm in his arms, your lips parting ever so slightly to release a sigh or a breathy moan. It’s musical, a whimsy he’s only just discovered.

“My beautiful bride,” Malleus croons, “you will know love in my arms. Love forevermore, here in this sanctuary. Fear not, for I have done away with all that may terrify and traumatize.”

Pressure is straining beneath the belt, an itch that must be promptly dealt with. Removing his fingers, he shifts you on his lap so that he may free his cocks from confinement. Twin monstrosities curve towards his stomach; perhaps you’d have been frightened if you were awake to behold them. His hand settles on the small of your back, steadying you as he lines one of them up with your body. The tip just reaches past your navel. For a moment, Malleus ponders whether he might break you.

Careful now, he can hear Lilia’s chiding. Impatience will lead to injury.

He heeds the unspoken warning, lifting you with both hands until the head of his cock is kissing your pussy. And then, slowly, he lowers you down onto him. Your pussy stretches around him, a snug squeeze that only grows tighter with every inch swallowed. Malleus pulls you flush against his chest when he’s halfway slotted, his breathing staggered. Your body quivers, walls fluttering around him, while his other unsheathed cock presses against your navel. Pre-cum smears on your stomach.

He’s determined to cherish you, thrusting all the way to the hilt after a few determined tries. It’s a firm fit, but it’s still bliss. Hissing through his teeth, brows knitted in concentration, Malleus wraps his arms around you and fucks. Mindless, mostly, but with the intent to reach the only acceptable end here: orgasmic ecstasy. He makes up for the lack of motion on your part by moving his hips to meet yours as he rocks you up and down. Whimpers slip past your lips; he shushes you with song, humming through groans and grunts.

This is love.

Malleus thinks so when he positions your hands over his other untouched cock. The illusion doesn’t last long because your hands are quick to fall away. Instead, he grasps your hand, guides it back to his shaft, and pumps himself using your precious palm for friction.

You’re bounced up and down in a parody of consensual copulation. Malleus dwells in imagination, picturing you in a wedding gown. He considers what you might say, the vows you would undoubtedly swear, and the sweet nothings you’d exchange late into the evening. He’d twirl you across an elegant ballroom while everyone looks on with tender adoration and reverence. He’d show you the stars hanging just within reach, and when you’re swept up in riveting romance the sky is tangible and dreams are spun from sugar.

He’d place you on his bed, stripping you of your dress, hands trailing up to tug the frilly garter from your thigh, and you’d smile at him, open your arms and welcome him with mutual affection. You’d bloom for him like a moonflower, your heart beating in sync with his, as he fulfills the final promise—one so bodily imperative. An oath to disturb desolate halls with noise. To hear the pitter-patter of tiny footfalls upon stone floors—he can’t imagine anything more harmonious.

You would soften throughout the months, bright with that foretold pregnancy glow. He would press his hands to your rounded belly and feel squirming within, restless kicks and nudges. You’d discuss potential names over breakfast, and he would hover even though he knows you’re plenty capable. But he worries because you’re so fragile and fleeting. So pretty. So round with child. He wouldn’t leave you alone for a moment; you’re far too enchanting. Perhaps, in some distant future, he’ll lower to the height of your stomach and sing to the baby.

A smile would tug at your lips and you’d reach down to pat his head, running your fingers over his horns. And then— 

Malleus cracks his eyes open, his breath hot against your face. His chest heaves as he comes down from the high of domestic daydreams to find your stomach spattered with cum. Swallowing thickly, he peers between your bodies at your pussy stretched around his other cock.

Oh, he came inside.

Unexpectedly. Or perhaps not, for this was his intention. But once is not nearly enough, and he must fill you until you’re fit to burst—until it’s biologically certain you’re pregnant.

An emotion flickers on your face. Malleus mistakes it for jubilation, the type which calls forth a sunshower on your cheeks. He kisses the tears trailing down your face, ending at your lips for a chaste peck.

This is not the finale. It is simply the beginning.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus #n/sfw #tw: noncon #tw: breeding #tw: baby trapping #tw: somnophilia

[aksm]

People knock on Rhoam for being a bad dad cuz he's distant and stern to little Zelda and say how Rauru is the goat (heh) for taking her in like his own daughter. Like Zelda had her real parental connection with Sonia and Rauru. But frankly that's a little reductive.

Rauru literally descended from the heavens, married a priest, started a kingdom. Man didn't really know much strife yet. There's no looming threat of calamity or prophecy yet. Things are peaceful. Things are fine. Things are great. Zelda dropped in during this time, talking about a doom that's going to happen tens of thousands of years in the future.

This sad, lost princess.

Of course any reasonable person would take her in and calm her and tell her she is fine and listen and support her.

Rhoam not being able to be this kind of figure for Zelda is tragic. Just read this poor man's journal entries:

"It has been a year and three months since her mother passed. Perhaps she is held back by heartache too deep to heal. If the Ganon prophecy wasn't looming over our heads, I would tell her to take her time... To wait until she is ready. But our situation is dire and leaves no room for weakness—even on behalf of my beloved daughter. My heart breaks for Zelda, but I must act as a king, not a father. I must order her to train relentlessly at the fountain." Pg 4.

"In truth, I understand Zelda's feelings. Painfully so. She lost her mother, her teacher, before she could learn from her. Ten pointless years of self-training, without so much as a book or note to help her find her way... Those in the castle talk behind her back. And I, her only family, scold her for her shortcomings. No wonder she wishes to hide away in her beloved relic research. I'd love nothing more than to console her... But I must stay strong. She MUST fulfill her duty, just as we all must. Even if she comes to despise me." Pg 6.

"I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom... This will likely be her last chance. If she is unable to awaken her power at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. Scolding is pointless now. I forced 10 years of training on her... and after all that, it seems her power will stubbornly awaken some other way. Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter's return." Pg 7. (He fucking dies and never gives Zelda this bit of closure uuuugggghhhhhhh Zelda I'm so sorry Rhoam I'm so sorry)

It sucks because most people remember the cutscenes (duh it's more immersive and important) and in the cutscenes of the first game Rhoam was mostly shown as being stern and mean to babygirl Zelda, who is closed fists explaining herself to him at the verge of tears. And in contrast everyone in the first royal family of hyrule in the second game treated her with such kindness and we can see how happy she was being there with them.

Rhoam was shackled by duty. By prophecy. By the looming calamity. And from the day he named his daughter 'Zelda' he shackled her as well.

And what does Zelda do with these shackles? She accepts them. She tolerates them. Because she loves her father and her kingdom and knows there's a power dormant in her that can stop the calamity that she must do her best to unlock. She does this dutifully. She does all the training, she does everything that is required.

But it still doesn't unlock. So she tries other ways. She isn't just going after the 'relics' because she's scholarly and nerdy and wants to learn about them. She does it because she's pragmatic. She knows her sacred sealing power isn't present in her. She knows she might not be able to control it or even unlock it in time.

So she tries this alternative approach. The Divine Beasts, the guardians. Ancient tech that was used to prevent the calamity of their time. And she awakened the tech. And her father chose the champions for each divine beast. And they were all prepared. And it's all thanks to Zelda.

And then... Fucking tragedy again. Ganon probably learned his lesson from the last time he was thwarted and immediately went for the tech, corrupting it and turning it against the new users. Against Zelda.

It's never really stated how fast it all turned to shit when the tech betrayed them (or maybe I don't remember) but every account points to it being almost overnight. The champions died. Rhoam died. And suddenly, suddenly Zelda unlocks her sealing magic.

I always always hate the literary trope of using tragedy to unlock a great power that could've actually stopped the tragedy from happening in the first place.

And it's no different in BOTW. I hate that Zelda had to go through all this to unlock her powers.

And then what happens next?

She's stuck in limbo (in an almost mocking parallel to Rauru in the next game with his imprisoning arm) holding Ganon back. For a hundred years.

This young woman had gone through so much only to be trapped with a calamity seeking to destroy Hyrule for a century.

Does she know her father died in the war? Does she know the champions died in battle? Would she know Link would survive in the Shrine of Resurrection? Would she know how long it would all take? The century she would have to wait?

I think she didn't. I think it all happened too fast. I think ultimately, she decided a stalemate with ganon was an agreeable outcome. I think in her mind she probably thought she failed Hyrule. When the divine beasts turned she must have been distraught. Distraught might not even cover it tbh. But at least... At least when the kingdom was brought to it's knees by the corrupted tech and was waiting for the final blow, she had the ability to ensure the final blow never came.

And oh boy I have a looot more to talk about regarding Tears of the Kingdom. But I do want to have a couple of more playthroughs of it to really formulate what I want to say.

#zelda #zelink #totk thoughts #loz spoilers #totk spoilers #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #tloz botw #tloz totk #loz totk #loz botw #loz tears of the kingdom #tears of the kindom spoilers #breath

[blueparadis]

❝ SAY YES TO ME ❞ + JING YUAN.

CW :: female!reader, husband!jing yuan, mostly fluff, ‘baby talk’, angst and smut undertones // synopsis. Jing Yuan wants a little bundle of joy. // word count.1k

notes :: back with my bullsh!t again. atp, jing yuan and his wife has become my new song on loop. this is a sequel but you can enjoy it as a one-shot too. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED. back to blog navigation.

Never in thousand light years Jing Yuan thought he would witness this sight: his wife sleeping on same bed with him using his arm as a pillow. Not that he has not slept with you before, he has but not like this: like fine silk threads that are too tangled to be spruced up for weaving. He swiftly moves his arm by an inch not to wake you up but enough to let you shift in sleep.

Jing Yuan’s dawing amber eyes flash on the pendant that rests on your chest and his mind is immediately occupied by the visions on that pendant kept dancing as he fucked you deep and full, along with your tits. He groans getting out of bed and spotting the nightgown you had on last night. That's odd. You are not naked now. Maybe when he was asleep you cleaned yourself up.

Jing Yuan walks to your side of the bed grazing your cheeks with the back of his palm. You look so at peace, so beautiful like this. He leans towards you blowing air into your ears, hands resting on the edge ready to catch you if you fall. A sharp intake of breath, slow blinking of heavy eyelids as a husky voice penetrates your lulled state. “Good Morning, my little sparrow.”

“Good morning ’my lion.” you barely mumble stretching out your limbs to be properly awake.

As he ties the sash of his robe you sit up, looking around your eyes fall on a carved piece of wood that seems like a bird. “What is that?” You asked briskly grabbing the piece from the side table and inspecting it. “Have you been taking Yanqing’s toys? to punish him? Again? ” Your voice spiked up at each turn of a question.

“No,” He protested immediately yet it did not satisfy you. You narrowed your gaze on him and then shifted your attention to the carved wooden piece.

“Did you make this?”

“Hmm-ummm” Jing Yuan responded. He is tapping his feet on the ground with his arms tucked across his chest. Unable to keep his bubbling thoughts to himself he blurted out “It’s for you.” You snap your eyes at him with surprise. He sat at the edge of the bed explaining further, “I — I made this for us. For you know, our baby.”

“Oh.” Your eyebrows grew closer as you looked at him holding the wooden eagle in curled palms. “oh” You realized what was going on with him all these, getting handsy with you, spending more time with Yanquig, looking at you with bedroom eyes every time you went in his quarters during his working hours and as such.

“Oh I see.” At this point you could hear every swallow of breath you took. “Will you...will you really discard me...if i don't want— You murmur with tears in your eyes, vision so blur that you can barely see his face properly. You looked down curling your palms in fists on your lap. The rough surface of the wooden eagle pinches your skin.

You remember how your father wedded another woman to produce an heir, always looked down upon since the moment your half-brother was born and when things did not go as planned he decided to use you as a weapon, to mend his torn kingdom. In your memory, your mother has always been a spectator, an audience of the sabotage your father inflicted on you, and your mother — always will be; but shall you too go down the same fate?

— or rather can't give you an heir? Tell me. Now. Will you? ”

“what? No. No. I married you because I liked you. Anyone who says otherwise is just lying. Moreover, you don't have to give me an heir.” Jing Yuan buried under the debris of some fairly tail happy endings he concocted about you crashed into pieces. Who made you like this? Who hurt you so bad that — “I just... I just want us to try for a baby. A symbol of our love.”

“symbol of our love?” You question it as if you never thought of him having any iota of affection for you. You question it as if you never considered that this marriage of convenience could offer you something more.

“yes.” Jing Yuan sternly spoke taking your hands into his. He cupped your cheeks swiping away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. “You know,” he starts “I always wondered why you didn’t cry that day. . . when I brought you here for the first time. I was under the impression that girls generally cry when they have to leave their home.” He chuckles softly scooting towards you. “But i think I have an idea now. . .” he trails off. Ducking his head a little he meets your eyes that has been stilled on the crumpled bedsheets for a while now.

“I— I felt caged there. My father isn't a kind man.“ You admitted .

“Oh Trust me, I’m aware.” A cackle followed. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes.

“Let me think about it. I promise. I promise to think about it.” You muttered flinching at the sudden jolt that made you close your eyes. When you opened them, you were inches closer to his face, your knees touching the soft mattress as one of his thighs support you in V - position. He is deflecting the hurt, there must be some isn't it? After all, Jing Yuan did not anticipate this kind of reaction either. Sure, he expected you to throw a tantrum but not to be so dipped in dread.

“Sure.” He quips resting his chin on the apex of your cleavage. “Meanwhile. Give that to me.” He eyes the wooden piece of the eagle before continuing, “I don't want you to stress about this. We have time. We can talk about it tomorrow, the day after, or maybe never. I'll wait,”

You parted your lips to speak in hopes of soothing the hurt. If you know him well, then you can assume that he is hurt, so much so that he might have reopened some old wounds.

“I’ll wait my dear.” he beams before kissing between your collarbones. Ah! He is a walking wound now.

sequel to void.

#jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #hsr smut #hsr angst #hsr x reader #hsr x female reader #hsr fanfic #hsr fic #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x female reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail drabbles #smut drabble #jing yuan star rail #jing yuan scenarios #jing yuan angst #jing yuan fic #jing yuan fluff #hsr fluff #hsr scenarios #hsr imagines #hsr drabbles #light angst #angst and feels #angst and smut #smut fanfiction

[houseofanticipation]

It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.

In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.

The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.

Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.

You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.

And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.

The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."

It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.

So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"

You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.

"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"

"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."

Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.

The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"

Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.

He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."

You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.

You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.

This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.

"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."

You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."

"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"

You shake your head.

"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."

It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...

You don't think you can do this.

Then his hand is on the back of your head.

You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.

A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."

There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."

"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."

His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.

You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.

He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.

You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?

But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.

The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.

"That's better," he says.

The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.

You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.

He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.

You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.

You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.

You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.

Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.

All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...

"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.

He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.

It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.

You don't respond.

You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.

#CW im told this one is realer than usual so be warned #r@pe fantasy #cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #breeding toy #r@petoy #r@pe kink

[helluvapoison]

how would the overlords propose?

Say Yes

how the overlords would propose

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Carmilla Carmine ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Romance isn’t an afterthought to her, as hard as that is to believe. Carmilla is a very passionate woman… it just comes after logic. Whether you knew it or not, you’ve been put to the test much earlier on. (How you treat her daughters and how they like you is the most important part, if you didn’t pass you wouldn’t have made it this far)

By now she knows you’re worthy and she’ll bring you into her world permanently. Carmilla plans something intimate. She surprises you in her office for a candlelit dinner, courtesy of her private chef! She is a businesswoman first so she gets straight to the point and asks for your hand, literally, slipping the band into your finger.

“Marry me,” Carmilla says, uncharacteristically soft, “With you at my side, I will be complete.”

˚✧₊⁎ Zestial ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Telling himself there’s no rush, that he could wait a thousand more lifetimes to make you completely his, doesn’t cure the urgency to do it anyways. He’s seen any ounce of goodness down here nabbed before anyone else can take it for themselves. Zestial never claimed to be unselfish, only patient. He tests the question to himself first very early on. Then he phrases it differently to you or refers to himself as your husband to others. You mistake it for a slip up and smile anyways. A delightful sign in his eyes.

Zestial is pleased that you don’t suspect it. How could you when he’s merely being his usual, charming self? He takes you strolling down the same path you took when he first began courting you. Ever the gentleman, he pauses before the bridge over the river of magma and actually kneels.

“Would thou spend the rest of this infernal afterlife beside thyself? Say yes and I swear never to stray and never to allow harm to befall thee. Thou shall only know happiness from this moment on.”

˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Love at first sight doesn’t exist so do not twist his words when he says he knew you belonged to him the moment you met. Feelings were bothersome and you flooded his entire being with them with a simple gaze. Lingering between the emotions was always pain, which he was familiar with. Unfortunately for him, the cure for his ailment was always you. Marriage was not in the cards for either of you. Alastor thought he had no intention of going through such hassle until he couldn’t stop staring at the vacant spot on your ring finger. Bothersome.

Truly you had no idea what he was plotting. It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you to his radio tower, going over notes with him or just quietly hanging about while he worked. He told you there would be a guest on his next show and he wanted to rehearse the questions. Simple enough. Before you even read the last one Alastor stopped you with a finger to the lips,

“Pardon my dear, you’ve been a wonderful co host— utterly indispensable these past few years— but that’s my line!” There’s a flicker of hesitation before his smile takes a slightly gentler form, a side of Alastor only you’re privy to, “Will you marry me?”

˚✧₊⁎ Rosie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Since she was married a few times already, you thought Rosie would be over the whole thing by now. Well you couldn’t be more wrong if you tried! She adores weddings, from organizing them to being in them; the whole shabang is right up her alley! There was a reason her ex husbands didn’t work out but you don’t have to worry about the whys and whatnots. You’re oh so very special to Rosie, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing you!

The fact you think marriage is off the table has her giddy. She loves having the element of surprise! Cannibal’s left and right are in on the plot, making sure you’re exactly where you need to be all day long until you reach the town square at sunset. Crimson rose petals lead you to the gazebo where candles are lit all around your Radiant Rosie. She smiles so fondly at you it makes your knees weak as you climb the steps to reach her. She poured her love into two pages, prepared to make it her best speech ever but the second you were in front of her everything went out the window!

“Oh! I can’t wait another minute! Marry me, won’t you?”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ the vees might get their own part cause, i feel, they’re particular about marriage

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x you #carmilla carmine imagine #carmilla carmine x reader #zestial imagine #zestial x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel rosie imagine #hazbin hotel rosie x reader

[solarisfortuneia]

— glimpses of life.

misc. scenarios with them. (ft. diluc, childe, kaeya, kazuha and xiao.)

diluc ragnvindr.

“diluc, can we please, please go to starsnatch cliff today?” you plead on one fine day, tugging at his sleeve.

never one to deny your requests and always one to indulge your whims, he glances at his desk. “well, I am done with a considerable amount of work, so i don't see why we can't.” he kisses your temple and lightly pats your head. “we’ll go after lunch, beloved.”

you cheer, a sparkle in your eyes, and a million flowers bloom in his heart; an ever-growing garden.

true to his words, he takes you there later that day. while you take pleasure in the view and the feeling of the wind, he relishes in your smile and the pure, unbridled joy you exude. he's seen a thousand views over the years, but he knows nothing will ever come close to the one in front of him.

“diluc, look.” you call his name, and he lifts up a hand in acknowledgement. “look at what i found!”

he walks over with a curious expression on his face. you gesture to the flower in your hand, and he looks at it, confused, brows knitted. “my apologies, my heart, but i believe that’s just a cecilia?”

you shake your head with a mysterious smile dancing on your lips. “no, no, look closely, this one’s special.”

he runs his eyes over it again, analyzing the color, the shape of the petals and the green of the leaves. “it looks exactly like the others, my love.”

you sigh, dramatically looking at the sky. “no, my dear darling diluc, this one’s different from the rest,” you meet his eyes once more, and he sees mischief dancing in them. “it’s different because—” you drag it out for as long as you can. he raises an eyebrow at your familiar dramatics. “—this one right here, is the one i think would look the best in your hair.” he coughs in surprise, not expecting that answer and your grin almost splits your face in two.

“it would look quite delightful against the red, wouldn’t it?” you press on.

“whatever you say, beloved.” he tries his best to keep his expression neutral, but his voice wavers. you grin wider

“come closer, then! let me put it there for you.”

he leans over, allowyou to secure it in place behind his ear. “well, what do you think?” he looks at you, fondness swimming in crimson eyes.

“beautiful.” the one-word response takes him by surprise and a blush spreads over his face. “diluc, you’re starting to look like your hair now. you're very cute, aren't you?”

he groans, head in his palms. “whatever will i do with you?”

“love me, hopefully.” that he does, with all of his heart. 

and many moons later, you find the same flower carefully pressed and preserved between the pages of his journal. a tiny heart proudly adores the caption: a gift, from my beloved.

childe.

the day began perfectly. the sky was clear, the sun was shining, and a periodic breeze blew throughout the harbor. and it stayed that way, until childe decided it was a great day for a sparring match.

it was fine in the beginning; you were able to keep up. however, seeing as you lacked his inhuman stamina and thirst for battle, your energy drained far quicker.

after a long—too long in your opinion— session, you crumple onto the ground, exhausted beyond measure.

“come on, sweetie, you can do better than that!” he says, playfully spinning his weapon. “what happened to all that spirit i saw earlier today?” he kneels down next to you. “let’s go for another round, shall we?”

“no thanks,” you grumble. “i’m perfectly fine here. the ground and i are friends now.”

“aww,” he adopts an expression of mock disappointment, then chuckles. “although, i must admit, you really were commendable today.”

he stands up and offers you a hand. “let’s head back, i’m dying for something refreshing.”

“fine.” you huff. you take his hand and get up with a groan. you expect him to let go after you’re situated securely on your feet, but he tightens his grip and shoots you a bright grin instead.

and in spite of your exhaustion, you return it almost instantaneously.

as you walk to your destination together, he swings your intertwined hands over and over again, chattering away, and you can’t help but think that maybe the day wasn’t so bad after all.

kaeya alberich.

the long, grueling day left you an equally unpleasant souvenir to deal with: a horrible, awful headache.

kaeya, perceptive as ever, notices the minute you step through the door.

“are you okay, sweetheart?” he holds your face in his hands, concern written all over his expression.

you nod, slowly. he raises an eyebrow and gives you a long, serious glance. you correct yourself. “terrible headache. i feel like something a horse left behind.”

he chuckles lightly. “oh, my poor sweet baby,” he coos. “let’s get you something to alleviate the pain, shall we, dearest?”

he gathers pillows and blankets and makes a soft, cuddly pile for you to rest in. once he helps you settle in, he wraps you up in one of the blankets. “there we go,” he strokes your hair. “close your eyes and relax, i’ll make something warm for you.”

and make something warm he does. once you open your eyes after a half hour, you find a plate of your favorite food awaiting you.

“say ah.” a spoon enters your field of vision.

“kaeya! you don’t have to feed me!” you pout at him. “i can do it myself,”

he hums, “i know, but i want to. now,” he brings it closer to your lips. “hurry up and eat before it gets cold.”

a warm belly and an hour later, your head rests in his lap while he massages your forehead. “does that feel good?” his long, lithe fingers rub circles into your temples and gently press the bridge of your nose.

“like heaven.” you smile, “i feel much better now. thank you,” you motion with your hands. “for everything.”

“i’m always at your service, my angel. and i do it with pride.”

kaedehara kazuha.

“oh dear, it appears that our timing may have been off,” raindrops fall onto his outstretched hand, and he looks up at the cloudy sky.

“don’t worry,” you smile at him, “i’m sure i have an umbrella here with me.”

“or,” he catches your wrist before you can reach for your bag and intertwines your fingers. “we could forego the umbrella entirely, and enjoy the rain in all its glory?”

you look at him sideways, “kazuha, i love you very much, but this idea of yours could make us fall sick.”

“my lovely blossom,” he brings your hand up to place a featherlight kiss, fleeting, delicate and gentle. “if you were to fall ill, I promise you that without a shadow of a doubt, i would be by your side the whole time.”

“and what about you?”

“me?” he laughs, carefree, airy, and so very endearing, sound melding beautifully with the pitter-patter of the rain. “i’d say a small cold is worth a few moments of absolute freedom, wouldn’t you agree?”

his eyes are eager and pleading, and you cannot find the heart to deny him of his request. a grin tugs at the ends of his mouth, and you know that he knows exactly that.

“fine,” you nod your head, fighting off a smile of your own. “i suppose we could, just this once.”

“thank you, dearest.” he tugs you closer to his chest. “now, listen closely, or you might miss it.”

you strain your ears, concentrating very hard on your surroundings. at first, all you can hear is falling water, which soon gives way to chirping birds and crickets, a harmonious symphony that seems to have been tailor made just for the both of you.

“it would be a shame to let this music go to waste,” he says, bowing, “would you do me the honor of a dance, starlight?”

he pulls you out from under your temporary shelter and twirls you round and around until you’re laughing, and he is too.  your feet move in erratic motions, yet rhythm thrives in every single step. droplets trickle down both your bodies, weighing down your clothes and hair, but you pay it no mind.

and there, with him, a blur of red against the grey sky and trees of jade and olive, you think of exactly how blessed you are to have him with you.

xiao.

another week, another random disappearance. xiao looks at you suspiciously as you make an almost unbelievable excuse. “i need to go to the harbor to check if my shipment of inazuman ore has arrived,” you tell him as you fail miserably in hiding a note behind your back.

“i need to check if granny shan’s made the kites i asked her to,” another poor excuse.

he remembers every aspect of your mercantile business that you’ve told him about so far, and he knows full well that the shipment you’re speaking of arrived last month, and he knows that the kites have been delayed by another three weeks because of a priority order, yet he says nothing.

this constant cycle continues for over a month, and he stays silent each and every time, opting to give you space and not step over the threshold of your privacy. after all, you had your life, didn't you? he didn't share every aspect of his own with you, and in his view, you shouldn't be expected to either.

so he leaves it be.

until one day, he hears a faint call of his name in the wind. he recognizes the voice almost instantaneously and he teleports there just as fast. he sees you, leg stuck under a huge rock and a cart overturned on the side of the path.

“what in the name of rex lapis were you trying to accomplish?” he asks, after he’s freed you.

“nothing!” you shake your head, slowly rotating your ankle. “i was just heading back to the inn.”

he raises an eyebrow, but accepts it nevertheless. sighing, he kneels down. “is your leg alright?”

you nod. “don’t worry, the weight of the boulder wasn’t on my leg, i just couldn’t move it.”

he escorts you back to the inn, as reserved as the night, with not a single unnecessary word. only once the two of you are in your quarters does he shatter the silence.

“i have been observing you for days now,” his eyes are slightly narrowed. “what are you trying to do?”

you look down, awkwardly rubbing your neck. “this isn’t how i hoped to tell you but,” you reach for a small pouch. “this is for you.” you wait till he takes it and continue, “the reason i’ve been acting so strange lately is because i was having this made for you.”

he pulls the drawstring open and finds an amulet, made of the most delicately cut amber he’d seen till date.

“you know how amber helps to clear and cleanse negative energy?” you fiddle with your fingers, looking down at the ground. “i thought it might help you with your karmic debt. it symbolizes good luck in battle too.”

he makes a noise halfway between a snort and a grunt. “my karmic debt is not your responsibility.” he turns it around. “besides, we adepti have no need for such a trinket.”

you smile. “i know. think of it as a way to assure my peace of mind?”

“hmph.” he looks away. “fine. if that is what you wish.” his face softens. “thank you for thinking of me.”

“i’m always thinking of you, xiao. especially when you’re out cleansing the land.”

red rises to his face. “tch. you truly have no respect for an adeptus and their skills.”

he says that, yet every time you see him, the amber amulet sits just below his collarbone, gleaming proudly in the light.

#—🖋 #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #diluc x you #childe x you #kazuha x you #kaeya x you #xiao x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #another repost let's go

[sky-kiss]

Raphael/Tav (Reader): Indulgence

A/N: I dunno. Had an urge. Here's a lil nothing.

Shall he be honest, mouse?

Sex is not one of those concepts upon which he lingers. It is an all too human urge, sated by demons, indulged only by the more indolent of devil-kin. Raphael recognizes its power, of course—he is neither ignorant nor blind.

But oh, there are sweeter delights. The sort of things mortals could only dream of, akin to colors outside their limited perspective. What was sex compared to a star’s light going out after dimming over a thousand years? What was sex beside a deal well negotiated? A kingdom falling? The screams of thousands as they begged for deliverance, only for the gods to turn a deaf ear? 

The answer, sweetling: it was nothing at all. 

It does not keep him from taking his pleasure with Haarlep. 

Or with you.

And there is a renewed thrill in having you, pet. Lacking the grace, finesse, and breadth of knowledge of his incubus, but better for the novelty. You scream so prettily when he bites your shoulder, hissing and clawing at him with no pretense. You still yelp when he pushes into your body, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. You thrash and lose your rhythm—so blessedly undone, all by his hand. 

So weak. So mortal. 

You don’t taste like sweet poison when he kisses you. No, sweetling, you are decaying leaves and the passage of time. You are a guttering candle, piteous and small beside his flame. You are such a little, little thing. So low—so beneath him. 

Raphael hitches your legs higher around his hips, head tipped back, groaning into the overheated air. Sweat glistening on your skin, belly, and breasts, a patchwork of kiss-sucked bruises. You are spent beyond the telling of it, must be, but…

You rock your hips against him, inviting him to continue, eyes still lit with the challenge. More, it says. You can survive more. 

It’s the challenge he likes, Raphael supposes. The indomitable beauty of the mortal spirit: rising to meet adversity and its betters. 

He will break you, must break you. He is better, and he must. 

You scream for him, clinging, his name rapturous on your tongue.

But you are not broken. No, not yet. You're still staring up at him that damnable look. Bloodied but not broken. Spent, but not obedient.

It will not do.

It is a simplistic battle, yes. But Raphael will not rest until he might call himself victorious.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #bg 3 fanfic #bg3 smut #kinda #ish #its quite tame #but its implied i dunno

[jean0farc]

★༉‧₊˚✧ — 𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑲.

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Dark fantasy, yandere, a bit of fluff.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Alucard X You (the reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: Just a little one-shot scenario between you and affectionate, but yandere Alucard snuggled up in bed. The time takes place after sex. After refusing to cuddle with him, he spirals into a feeling of bloodlust as he gets himself ready to mark you as his.

𝖈𝖜: Blood drinking, if that counts. A bit of dubcon even though there isn’t really smut for this fic, and slight degradation (he calls you his pet).

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Hello again, readers. So I’m back with a new fic and despite not uploading for a couple of weeks due to mental health reasons and school, I’m going to post this new fic I made which is a part of a series!

YANDERE PROMPT LIST BY: @writeformesinpie

PROMPT: “I can never get enough of you. I’ll drink you down to the last sip.”

“A-Alucard….Just five more minutes…please….”

It was about nine o’ clock in the morning when all curtains were closed to prevent sunlight from penetrating through the glass windows.

….And there you were in bed, bare naked with the touch-starved vampire himself, your body shivering at the cold touch of your respective “lover.” Alucard was trying to cuddle you, to which you tried avoiding.

“You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, dear. You must lie with the beast before you who has been craving your touch for as long as a thousand years.”

“There you go again with your silly monologues, Alucard. Just let me be as I sleep, alright? I’m tired. You might as well kill some peasants outside or do your necessary duties for the day….just leave me be-”

A loud sound was heard as Alucard flipped you over.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as Alucard landed on top of you, pinning you down to the king-sized bed as his eyes glowed a bright shade of red. The look on his face intimidated you like a hungry wolf cornering its prey, his lips forming a smug smirk. You wanted to….no, you needed to run to a safe place where you could feel a bit of comfort. The look he’s been giving you was unlike his previous deed of cuddling your smaller figure.

Alucard let out a small chuckle.

“Cat got your tongue, darling? Judging by your current state, there won’t be another time where you’ll refuse my orders.”

“But, Alucard, we’re-” you attempted to protest.

“We’re not what?” Alucard asked, tilting his head. “Not together?” He laughed in retaliation to your bewildered facial expression. Leaning closer to your ear, you felt chills run down your spine as he whispered intimately. “Very well, let me clue you in. Your blood is mine, in fact, your entire being is mine by the time I’ll have myself inside you. Sir Integra has chosen you to become my one and only pet whom I shall swear to protect with my very own life. You are far too fragile to let go. Let this moment consume your soul. Give yourself to me, and don’t look back.”

“Alucard…..please…” you whimpered. “I only agreed to sleep with you because….because…..!!!”

“Such a precious, sensitive little thing.”

His mouth opened wide and bit down aggressively on your neck, drawing blood. You moaned loudly in return, trying to push away Alucard’s huge figure off of you. Your efforts to let yourself free were pointless, as he took advantage of your arms by grabbing your wrists and keeping them in place.

Alucard started to suck the blood out of your neck, leaving bruises and hickeys around it. He surely was doing all this for his own pleasure, so as to leave you aching for more. And boy, were you feeling real good.

“A-Alucard!!! I….I thought…you just wanted…a hug…..”

“Hm? I've changed my mind. From now on, what I want from you is something more sinister, something animalistic and disgusting to the untrained eye. I can never get enough of you, I’ll drink you down to the last sip. I have fallen for you, pet. Show a little gratitude for someone as powerful as I have swallowed their pride just to love and protect you dearly with all my strength.”

“I appreciate it, but….”

“Has your pride gotten the best of you, dear? After we got our freak on the previous night? I bet it didn’t. Just admit how you developed feelings for me.”

“Oh, no! That’s not the case! I-” you stammered.

“Ah, so you still refuse to admit your feelings, hm? Very well, I’ll show you how desperate of a mess you’ll be once I bend you over.”

It was too late. You and Alucard were about to spend the whole morning going at it until night, leaving you with no choice but to spend time with the creature who has lusted for you since Integra has chosen you as his pet.

There was no turning back.

It was about to be a long day.

#alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard imagine #hellsing alucard #hellsing ultimate #alucard hellsing #hellsing #alucard hellsing x reader #x reader #yandere prompts #yandere x reader

[actual-changeling]

the true weight of aziraphale's words only hits him days later, when the shock has worn off and the world no longer looks vivid-sharp and fragmented. 

just like the old times, only even nicer, and back in the bookshop, hearing him say it for the first time, the heaven underneath it all had ripped him open. now, though, with heavy limbs and their respective speeches burned into his brain, syllable after syllable, it's the second part that re-opens those very same wounds.

was this not nice? he wants to ask him, the walls, fucking god herself—or scream, rather, he has grown rather fond of screaming—because he thought it had been, their life on earth. nice and soft and messy, full of arguments, yes, but also nights of laughter and shared heat. graveyard walks and afternoons in the park, eating at the ritz, feeding the ducks, basking in everything alive so they could feel alive, too.

crowley would have given him almost everything, followed him almost everywhere except the one place aziraphale wanted him to return to. after six thousand years, he had finally found the only thing crowley refused to give up—his freedom.

inch by inch, he had clawed his way out of hell and through more pain than he will ever be able to name, and the scars, the burn marks, the fresh air in his lungs are worth it, always have been and always will be. no longer an angel, never again, but not a demon either; he's been on his own side since the beginning.

crowley has thought of his existence as a shared one—theirs—but maybe, with his eyes opened and the truth bitter in his tongue, maybe they'd led two lives after all. one full of magic and fairy tales for aziraphale in which polishing away every spot and destroying every flaw would eventually create a perfect 'us'. he wanted to take him right back to the start, when mistakes didn't exist, when crowley didn't exist.

yet crowley, despite what he regularly told his plants, the mirror, himself, had never been chasing after something they did not have. love is just as flawed and messy as life, and he basks in traffic jams and cloudy days, in existing as his own person without any affiliation, occult, ethereal, or otherwise.

he had never wanted them to be perfect, just undeniably real. in the end, even that was too much to foolishly hope for, a lesson once learned branded into his skin anew:

ask and you shall lose.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #hey do you ever cry so hard your body stops being able to do so and then write trauma angst because you'll never guess what happened to me

[cobragardens]

The Golden Lion

For all that Aziraphale is the more frightened of the two of them, Crowley is the snake: he camouflages himself carefully, and his first instinct is always to flee.

Aziraphale's is to stay. He insists on facing the Apocalypse. He insists on facing the Second Coming. He insists on trying to make a difference. He doesn't want to go up to Heaven, but he does it anyway, alone, because he wants to stop the destruction of Earth (again) and keep Crowley safe.

He's very difficult to shame, too. He never gives up his innocent pleasure in eating, even though Heaven, Hell, and probably people on Earth all mock him for it. He's soft and he remains soft, even after Gabriel shames him for both his physical and metaphorical softness. That takes a lot of strength and an unshakeable character.

You know the gold ring Aziraphale wears as a badge of office, that functions as the counterpart to Crowley's snake tattoo? The charge on that ring is a lion.

The heraldic attitude of the lion is rampant (i.e., reared up): it stands on its hind legs with its forelegs raised, as though attacking, and its head is forward-facing: it looks forward, toward the future.

Obviously in popular symbolism, lions represent bravery, and that definitely fits Aziraphale. He's literally leaving the only person who has ever loved him to go make the universe a better place for that person and for everyone, and he's going alone amongst the people who have despised and shamed him his whole existence and tried to kill him at least once; those people are mfing Heaven and have been entrenched in their power for thousands or millions of years. It doesn't get a whole lot braver than that.

In Christian symbolism specifically, the lion represents Christ. (He's referred to in the book of Revelation as the "lion of Judah" because the heraldic symbol for the tribe of Judah was a lion and Jesus was said to be from the tribe of Judah because his [step]father Joseph was from Judah.)

Normally when a story draws a parallel between a character and Christ, the parallel is one of self-sacrifice. That's not what's happening here. When symbolism for Christ represents his self-sacrifice, Jesus is invariably associated with a lamb--the sacrificial lamb--not a lion. When that symbolism represents Christ's mercy or holiness or divine nature/ordination, the dove of the Holy Spirit is used.

But the lion is a symbol inherited from the Old Testament. It represents royalty, power, threat, and seizure from others by force. Jesus is symbolically depicted as the lion upon his return to Earth during the book of Revelation. The lamb is Jesus' self-sacrifice and death for the sins of humanity, but the lion is Jesus' return, powerful, royal, and triumphant.

Does Aziraphale's ring foreshadow his involvement in the Second Coming of Christ? Probably! Is it a symbol that Heaven is the proverbial (and biblical) "lions' den" where they should be doves and lambs? Maybe.

I think it more likely that Aziraphale himself will be the lion, on a righteous rampage like Jesus chasing the moneylenders from the steps of the temple, telling them "It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves." Because the ring is a signet ring, meant to impress a seal that legally represented the wearer as an individual. So the lion is linked to Aziraphale himself.

Aziraphale is soft. It is one of his very best qualities. And soft and weak are not the same thing: because he is soft, he tried to kill the Antichrist, a child. Because he is soft, he stood alone before a demon in defiance of the will of Heaven and demanded with no power whatsoever to back him up that the demon spare children whose murder God had authorized. He, an angel of God, worked with a demon to deceive the Heavenly Host and, as he points out himself, thwart the will of God. Even before that, because he was soft, Aziraphale gave humans the gift of fire and self-protection and then lied to God Herself about it. I mean it literally does not get any more courageous than that.

And I can't stop thinking about what that lion, and that softness, and the link between the two is going to mean for S3.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens aziraphale's ring #aziraphale's ring #aziraphale #good omens analysis

[swallowtail-lotus]

Sakura Mochi {Hades x Mitsuri!Reader}

Repost

I'm in love with Hades as always 😂

Nothing too bad

____

"Is there any reason why you're so excited?" The lovely voice of the Goddess of Beauty, Aphrodite broke you out of your dream-like stance. You turned to face the beautiful goddess with the smile most of the deities grew to love.

"I'm eager to see Lord Hades! I haven't seen him for thousands of years!" You exclaimed, cupping your own face with your dainty hands.

"I take it you heard word of his arrival?" The goddess giggled. You nodded your head fast, the excitement growing more and more. Aphrodite always found it amusing to see you fawn over certain deities.

"I wonder what he looks like now? Will he be the same or will he look different?" You asked, mostly to yourself. Aphrodite opened her mouth but stopped when the smell of sweets caught her attention.

"You've been eating those sweets again, haven't you?" Aphrodite teased, her blue eyes filled with mischief. You lowered your head down in embarrassment.

"I can't help it! They're so delicious!" You said, folding your arms and huffed like a child.

"Anyways, I shall leave you be! Tell me everything when you're finished!" The Goddess was carried away by her golem like male servants. You stood in place, trying to process her words.

"Eh?! Aphrodite!!"

___

You smiled like a child that just received their favourite candy as you practically chomped down on your favourite sweets. After finishing a huge bowl full of them, you began walking around. You realised that you had to look for the god you've been waiting on all day, so you picked up the pace.

Meanwhile, a god with formal wear was on his way back to Helheim when his nose picked up a sweet smelling scent. It was something unfamiliar to him, but he remembered something his younger brother told him.

"If you suddenly smell something sweet, to be more specific, the scent of cake, a little goddess may be nearby!"

Hades was well aware of his younger brother's... problem when it came to females, but never really got involved in any way. He assumed this little goddess was his next target, but at the same time, he wanted to see why most of the gods spoke so fondly of her. Now that he thought about it, Zeus had never spoke of her in such a way that implied wanting to sleep with her. He spoke about her as if she was a daughter to him.

The scent got stronger, but he never moved an inch. He felt something run into his side and turned a little to face whoever it was. To his surprise, it was a smaller female with (f/c) and (s/fc) hair.

You managed to catch yourself before you could injure yourself. Your two toned hair was a little messy from the running, but it was still in good condition. When you looked up, you couldn't believe who you ran into.

"Ah! I'm so sorry, Lord Hades! I was in a rush and-"

"It's fine, (Y/n). But please be careful next time."

You shut your mouth, nervously playing with your hair. His voice was so calming it made you explode with embarrassment.

"Okay!" Your answer came out shaky.

"Lord Hades is so handsome! He looks so dominating!" Gushing about the stoic god in your mind, your gaze landed on the floor, avoiding the slight mischief in the god's eye.

"Lord Zeus must've told Lord Hades my name. Hearing him say it makes my heart flutter!"

You mustered enough courage to face the god again, looking him straight in his eye. His fingers made their way under your chin and tilted it up and leaned closer to your ear.

"Your scent is intoxicating. Hopefully you taste the same." His breath tickled your ear and sent chills down your spine. He pulled away and left you, his lips forming a smirk. You stared blankly at the ceiling, not blinking even once. After a minute, you fell to your knees. You clutched your chest with your hands, trying to calm down your heart.

From afar, a certain blonde goddess had watched it all and giggled to herself.

"This is really interesting. I wonder what will happen next~"

#sometimes i wanna slap my younger self #but sometimes i thank my younger self #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #hades x reader #ror hades x reader #mitsuri!reader #ror x reader #snv x reader

[bigfatbimbo]

you ask me to go HAM on requests- ask and you shall receive!

- rope bunny vox

- Vox and reader take an online kink test and compare results

- Lucifer and reader take online kink test and compare results

- Lucifer wearing lingerie i beg of you PLEASE

- Lucifer/vox being into shibari

- SEMI 👏 PUBLIC 👏 SEX 👏

- anything with Lucifer, vox, or boycunt I’m literally drooling over them

Bimbo i Hope you know that even if your time writing for hazbin has come to an end you’ve brought large amounts of joy and copious filthy smut to my inbox and for this i thank you greatly

-💕

WACKASS CLUSTERFUCK OF A POST BUT

— Rope Bunny Vox

Absolutely makes him 100% brattier off the bat but also super needy and subby. Like he’s already tied up and has no control in the situation, so being the shitass he is, he’s making mean comments and snarky jeers the whole time. But obviously remind him that he’s at your mercy and he’ll cave so enough.

— Vox & Reader w/the online kink test

He lies. He lies about the first time through and absolutely makes himself seem like more of a dom. I mean, of course you call him on his bullshit and tell him to take it again. He’d probably actually only take it seriously and be honest after you leave the room. He’d get like brat, masochist, switch, and degradee as his top ones I think. Also if your results are like super dominant or like super domme mommy or some shit, he’d get a boner on the spot, ANYWAYS.

— Lucifer & Reader w/the online kink test

Let’s be real, Lucifer would not lie at all. He is deathly honest and then still ends up embarrassed by his results. Like his face turns bright red and he turns his phone completely off because he gets things like submissive, pet, rope bunny, degradee. Obviously you make him show you and you tease him. But when he sees yours he is genuinely breaking out into a sweat.

— Lucifer wearing lingerie

Well, let’s start with the obvious. He absolutely has before. I mean, he’s done a lot of things, the guy was married for thousands of years. But if you convince him to break some of his old sets out, he’d be very bashful. Blushing like crazy, hiding his parts with his hands. But I think when he’s wearing lingerie he’d be very into you praising him and telling him how pretty he is.

— Semi Public Sex

With Lucifer, this might be the only real time you see him brat out. Because like, really? In public? He’s the king of hell, he should be treated with more respect. His attitude there is one of times your reminded why he’s the sin of pride. Doesn’t take much to fuck it out of him.

With Vox, this would be one of the many times you see him brat out. But the thing is, he literally doesn’t want to be seen by anyone. He’s very embarrassed about how subby he is and he has his image to keep up. He’d be very quiet the whole time, or at least try to be, and let out hissy, weak moans and quiet whispers of complaint.

— Boycunt Lucifer & Vox

Going off of the idea that Vox has the tech to switch his parts out because he does so with his head, and the idea that angels can shapeshift into other things so surely Lucifer can shapeshift his dick into a pussy. Anyways, Lucifer’s favorite is getting strapped up, and Vox’s favorite is getting eaten out.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #inbox open #vox x reader #lucifer x reader #sub vox #sub lucifer

[lionlena]

I can't be everywhere (No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader) ANGST! Part 3

Summary: You knew Joel was a busy man, but you never thought that when you needed him most you would hear, "I can't be everywhere." As if your pain meant nothing. So you decided that you couldn't be everywhere either… You couldn't be in his heart anymore.

Warnings: NSFW, self-harm (something like that), rough sex, p in v, unprotected sex, ANGST, miscarriage, misunderstanding, loss, mourning, broken heart, age gap (17 years), Joel is 45, depression, Joel tries hard, but… He can't show his true emotions…

Part 3

You thought being away from Joel, away from the place that reminded you of the loss of your baby, would help you, but it didn't. You felt like you were starting to get depressed, and living with your friend wasn't helping you at all. Maddie was sweet, but she tried too hard. You felt like she was taking on the role of your mother. She was worried that you weren't eating enough, that you weren't going out enough, and her attempts to talk to you about going to therapy only made you angry.

Deep down you knew she wanted good for you, but in your emotional state, you just had the desire to reject her. And that's exactly what you did. You found an apartment to rent and two weeks after you first entered her apartment, you moved out.

After finding a new apartment, you didn't feel any better. You tried to occupy your mind, find a new hobby, work more, but… You ended up sitting in the corner of your bedroom and crying. You processed thousands of scenarios in your head. Maybe you should have had an abortion? Then it would all be over before it began. Maybe not? Maybe you would suffer more and hate Joel more. Maybe you had a bad diet? You didn't take folic acid before pregnancy because… You weren't planning a pregnancy. Thousands of thoughts that did not allow you to sleep and function normally. Being able to work from home didn't make anything easier either, because you didn't have to go outside. You always had a tendency to overthink and get anxious, but when you were with Joel it was easier for you. He always knew how to put your mind at ease. He wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you to his chest. He kissed your head and murmured sweet things. Joel wasn't a man of many words, but his embrace was enough. You felt then safe and surrounded by a protective cocoon of love. But you weren't sure if it would help you now. * Joel hated the emptiness that filled his house. The emptiness that reflected his interior. He slowly realized how much he should have changed in his life and himself. He didn't know if this would get you back, but he had to do something because he felt like he was going crazy. He started by renovating the house or rather building another room… A children's room. He decided to tear down the wall and enlarge the room that had once served as Sarah's dressing room and storage room for her toys. He knew it was crazy, and Tommy didn't hesitate to say it to his face when he visited to watch a game and drink beer.

"Are you crazy? Let me understand this correctly. You are building a children's room now, for a baby who…"

Joel grimaced. When he heard it out loud, he realized how stupid it was, but he was going to defend himself.

"No. Look, I'm not crazy, I know it won't bring this baby back to life, but… I should have started doing this as soon as I found out about Y/N's pregnancy. I know it seems crazy now, but… I have to do this and… It doesn't have to be the nursery. When Y/N comes back… If she comes back, she'll decide. It could be her office, guest room, home gym… Whatever."

Tommy took a sip of his beer and nodded.

"Okay… Now that sounds a little more reasonable. Shall I help you?"

Joel smiled a little. Sometimes his younger brother was very annoying, but he could always count on his support.

"Sure."

The younger Miller looked at him and asked quietly:

"Has Y/N spoken to you?"

Joel reached for another beer and shook his head.

"He replies to my text messages, but as briefly as possible. Usually, it's just a dry: okay, I'm fine, don't call…"

Tommy sighed and nodded.

"So for now, no chance of her coming back."

"No, but… If this is your way of trying to get out of helping me with the renovation, it's too late."

Tommy laughed softly.

"Not at all… I promised it, so I'll help you." * A month and a half had passed since you left and Joel was losing hope of any reconciliation with you. He felt lost and maybe a little disappointed. He just wanted a chance, one little chance. He was ready to do anything, to fall on his knees in front of you and beg for forgiveness. He would promise you everything.

When he got your text message with the address of the new apartment and the request to send your things, he felt his heart break once again, and then… He knew that what he wanted to do was crazy, that you would be furious, but it was his last hope. *

When you heard the doorbell, you were sure it was the courier with your things. From what Joel wrote, everything was fit into four boxes. You walked across the living room and kicked the pizza box under the couch. You didn't care that your hair was messy and you were wearing Joel's old t-shirt that you took before leaving him. You couldn't even explain why you were wearing it. You told yourself it was comfortable, but you knew it wasn't everything. You opened the door and your heart sank.

"What the fuck…"

That was the first thing you managed to say when you saw Joel with a bouquet, his hair slicked back and looking too good for your opinion.

Joel expected such a reaction, so he didn't lose his confidence and gently said:

"Hey, Y/N…" He looked you up and down. He saw that you didn't look your best. The fact that you were wearing his t-shirt made him feel both happy and melancholy.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you hissed.

You wanted to slam the door, preferably to hit him in the nose, but you knew it was pointless. Joel would probably be banging on the door anyway. You would never think that he would take time off work and drive so many miles to see you. This seemed out of character for him. So he must have been desperate.

"I brought your things. I thought it would be better if I did it myself, just to… To make sure they reach you."

You huffed and looked at him disapprovingly. It was such a pathetic excuse.

"Yeah, of course."

Joel lowered his head and scratched the back of his neck.

"I wanted to see you." He said contritely. "Call me an idiot, an asshole… A motherfucker, but… I miss you."

Something about his voice and attitude made you soften. This wasn't the same Joel who hurt you in the hospital. It didn't mean you forgave him, but… You missed him too. You missed his body, the grip of his hands on your hips. You felt yourself getting warm. You had this sudden need to replace your emotional pain with a moment of oblivion. You grabbed Joel by his shirt and dragged him inside. You grabbed the flowers he was holding for you and tossed them aside.

"I missed…" You growled and started to undo his belt. "…for this."

Joel's eyes widened and he gasped in surprise. His hands were shaking as he grabbed yours and tried to stop you from what you were doing.

"Y/N what are you doing… I… That's not what I came for."

You felt like laughing. You knew perfectly well that he wasn't here to have sex. Joel might be an asshole sometimes, but he would never do something like this. You didn't care, you were going to push him over the edge. Use him like a fucking toy.

"I want you to fuck me! Hard, fast, rough… So I can feel it in next day…"

Joel's face turned red and he swallowed hard.

"But… I… I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't give a damn what you want!"

Joel swallowed. Part of him wanted to push you away, beg you to come back to your senses. He didn't come to make love to you. He wanted to talk to you and beg for forgiveness, but on the way to you, he promised himself that he would do whatever you wanted. And you wanted rough sex. So he put aside morality and common sense and turned on his animal instincts. He thought it was too simple, but the truth was that you always turned him on, even in his stretched-out t-shirt. He grabbed your buttocks and picked you up onto the kitchen counter. You smirked. You had him exactly where you wanted him. You saw the bulge in his pants. Joel grabbed your thighs and said:

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He didn't need more, he took off your shorts and panties in one move. His hand went to your pussy, but before he could touch your clit, you grabbed his hand.

"No… Without preparation."

Joel looked at you with dark eyes and growled.

"I won't fuck you when you are dry! You want me to hurt you. I'll do it the way you want… Hard… Rough, but…" He sighed and his gaze became pleading. "Please."

You wanted to continue arguing with him, but you knew he was right. He was capable of fucking you so hard that you would feel it the next day, even if he prepared you. You nodded, and his thumb immediately began rubbing rhythmic circles on your clit. His free hand reached for his cock, which was already half-hard.

You tilted your head back and moaned softly as you felt him insert one finger into you.

He too made a few grunts as he stroked his cock, which was already standing proudly.

When you felt yourself getting closer to climax, you grabbed his wrist and growled:

"Enough! I'm ready…"

He looked at you in surprise and grimaced. You knew what he meant. He was a master at preparing you, and he never stopped stretching you with just one finger.

"Are you… Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Joel sighed and shook his head, but he was already aroused and saw that there was no point in arguing with you. He pulled away for a moment and lowered his pants and boxers. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and went to pull out a condom, but you stopped him again. This time there was anger in his eyes.

"Y/N…" he growled warningly.

But you weren't going to take a step back.

"I'm not making you finish inside me… You'll take out before you come."

You saw the moment he gave up. He simply didn't have the energy to fight you as his erect cock twitched with anticipation, wanting to feel your warm core.

"All right."

He grabbed your hips and pulled you to the edge of the kitchen counter. You felt his cock head against your pussy. You bit your lip and nodded slightly at him. You knew it would hurt, but you wanted it.

Joel pushed into you with one brutal thrust, causing the air to escape from your lungs. You dug your nails into his shoulders and gasped. Joel moved closer to you. His lips were on your neck as he growled,

"This is what you wanted…" And then, more gently, he added, "Should I stop?"

"NO." You hissed.

And that was it. He figured you got a chance earlier to back out. He wanted you in that animalistic way, even though he knew how wrong it was. He gripped your hips tightly and that was his only warning before he started pounding into you.

He didn't even give you a moment to adjust to his thrusts. You held onto him tightly, completely at his mercy. You had no control over the speed or force of his thrusts. You screamed as the pain mixed with pleasure.

Joel got lost in your body and he couldn't think straight. He finally felt your warm body, and your scent, and heard your voice. For a few seconds, he could forget everything that had happened. He could pretend you never broke up.

He just came home from work and you greeted him in his t-shirt and soaked panties and offered him your pussy instead of dinner. So he accepted it happily and took you here and now.

You moaned louder and louder as you felt your climax getting closer. Your thighs were trembling, your breathing quick and shallow.

"Jooo… I…"

You dug your nails deeper into his flesh as you climaxed. Joel grunted as he felt your vaginal muscles tighten around his cock. He knew he had to get out of you… Quick.

You hissed in pain when he pulled out of you without warning and with a decisive movement. He leaned back and grabbed his dick. A few movements of his hand were enough for him to come. His cum landed on your thighs and the kitchen counter.

Joel pulled up his boxers and pants. He moved closer to you and rested his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily.

You raised your hand, wanting to do what you always did, which was to run your hand through his hair, but in the end, you stopped yourself.

After a few moments, Joel controlled his breathing and pulled away, and then… He grabbed you and held you in his arms. You didn't expect this. He carried you to the couch and carefully laid you down.

"Bathroom?"

"In the hall on the right…" you muttered.

Joel nodded and when he was gone you closed your eyes and sighed. You still felt the pain from his strong thrusts, but it finally made your mind go blank. There were no unnecessary thoughts, just a feeling of fulfillment and pain mixed with pleasure.

You didn't even notice when Joel came back. When you felt the wet, warm towel between your thighs, you yelped in surprise and jumped. Joel immediately placed his hand on your belly and said soothingly:

"I'm just going to clean you up… How are you feeling?"

You blinked in surprise. It's not that Joel was never tender and caring, and yet… He was never that caring. You cleared your throat and muttered:

"I'm okay…"

Joel nodded and placed a soft kiss on your thigh.

"Do you need anything? Water? A painkiller? A warm compress?"

You frowned and shook your head.

"No… I just want to take a nap."

"Of course."

Joel immediately got up and lay down next to you, wrapping his arms around you. Well… that's not what you wanted. But when you felt his warm, strong body pressing against your body, you gave up. When you felt him kiss your head, you allowed yourself to relax. You haven't slept well in weeks. Before you thought twice, you fell into a deep sleep. * In the morning you woke up in bed. You slowly sat up and blinked in surprise. You looked around confused, thinking maybe it was all a dream, but then you moved your hips and felt yourself sore. You looked at your watch and realized that you had slept for over twelve hours. Your eyes widened in surprise. What added to the shock was the fact that there was a glass of water and Advil on the bedside table. After a while, you heard a noise coming from the kitchen. You carefully got out of bed and put on a clean T-shirt and shorts. You slowly moved towards the kitchen. You smelled food, which made you feel hungry. You noticed boxes of your things in the living room. And then Joel standing at the kitchen stove caught your attention. His back was turned to you and you could admire his broad shoulders and muscular back.

Joel turned around and smiled warmly when he saw you.

"Hey… Did you sleep well?"

You frowned, wondering if maybe you were sleeping. You ignored his question and sat down at the kitchen table.

"What happened?"

Joel sighed, the smile disappearing from his face when he noticed that you weren't happy at all.

"You fell asleep… You slept so soundly that my attempts to wake you up were useless. I moved you to the bedroom, brought your things, slept on the couch, and… Now I'm making you breakfast."

You snorted, wondering if he was serious.

"You're making me breakfast? Wow. Where did you get the idea that I wanted that? Where did you get the idea that I wanted you to stay here for the night."

Joel cocked his head to the side as if he didn't even understand what you were saying.

"But… I thought that… We… You…"

You felt irritation rising within you.

"That what? That I forgave you because you fucked me? No, Joel… I just needed it, that's all."

Joel felt like you hit him in the chest with something heavy. Yes, he knew he deserved it. He nodded and looked at you sadly.

"Do you want me to…"

"To come back to Texas. Now."

You were a little afraid that Joel would start arguing with you, that maybe he would say something that would hurt you, but… He just walked to the couch, gathered his things, put on his jacket, and then walked up to you and kissed your head. He took you completely by surprise and you couldn't even push him away.

"Let me know if you need anything, I'll fly to you… And remember that I'm waiting for you. And I will wait as long as you need."

When he left, you realized you had been holding your breath the whole time. You took a shaky breath and felt tears streaming down your cheeks. You couldn't move. You looked at the cup of coffee and cheese toast that Joel had left on the counter. You wrapped your arms around yourself and allowed yourself more tears. *

A/N 1) Before you comment, please bear in mind that I want to show that depression sometimes comes in many forms. Depressed people are prone to dangerous behavior, such as sex with strangers. Unfortunately, I myself found out in the past that physical pain brought me relief from mental pain. If some people are dissatisfied with the reader's behavior, I'm sorry, but no one is forcing you to continue reading.

2) I watched scenes from episode 6 hundreds of times and concluded that Joel is an emotional orphan. Joel cannot express his own feelings, so he adapts to the feelings of others. In the first conversation with Tommy (the one in the bar), Tommy is a bit pushy, tense, and rough, and… Joel reacts with exactly the same emotions. In their second conversation, Tommy shows much more empathy, compassion, and calm, he is more open, so Joel opens up to him. In turn, in a conversation with Ellie, who attacks him (which, by the way, is normal for teenagers), Joel obviously takes on her emotions. And that's why when Y/N throws herself at him and encourages him to have rough sex, he naturally picks up on her lack of control and unbalanced attitude.

Part 2

Part 4

Tag list: @fahemzzz @picketniffler @elliaze @txtattoostark @this--is--music @anavatazes @simplyreading96 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @southernbe @sarahhxx03 @noisynightmarepoetry @jasminedragoon @pedromousposts @joeldjarin

Permanentny tag list: @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #angst #its so sad #tlou fic

[tenebraevesper]

Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Final Conclusion)

''It's been a long, rough road and I'm finally here. I move an inch forward, feels like a year. Everything I feel seems so unreal. Is it true? Is it true? I take one step forward and two steps back. Got a hundred thousand pounds sitting on my back. Up, down, all around, don't know quite what to do to get through. Well, I'm on my way...''

(Never Turn Back, Shadow the Hedgehog (2005))

Welcome to the Final Conclusion of my Shadow the Hedgehog's character analysis! It has been a long, rough road for me, but now I'm here to give you my final thoughts on Shadow the Hedgehog as a character in Sonic Prime.

So, shall we dive in for one last time?

I started this character analysis with the statement that ''Prime!Shadow is peak Shadow'', making it my mission to re-watch every episode of Sonic Prime to back up my argument, and I believe that I have succeeded.

When I had learned that Sonic Prime would have Shadow in it, I made sure to keep a close eye on him, as we know all too well just how tight SEGA's mandates around Shadow's character are, having seen him at his worst in the Sonic IDW comics. I had been hoping that Sonic Prime would let Shadow have more room as a character, let him breathe a little. He doesn't have to be just the grim Vegeta-type Stock Shonen Rival to Sonic, but he can also be a hero on his own.

So I waited and I hoped, and, oh boy, did Sonic Prime deliver!

With the placement of Sonic Prime in the mainline canon being deliberately vague (aside from obviously being set after Sonic Advance 3) we only had the knowledge of Shadow's backstory to figure out how his character might be utilized in the show, and let me assure you, I did not expect that Shadow as a character would actually go back to his roots.

As TV Tropes puts it, Shadow is the composite character of ''the intelligent, perceptive, and pragmatic (with good intentions) of Sonic 06'' self ''with the wrathful but good intentioned disposistion of Sonic Battle'' self.

In short, he is exactly the Shadow people wanted to see for so long, ever since Sonic the Hedgehog (2006), which is considered to be the peak of his character (not counting Sonic Adventure 2). He is the grim rival to Sonic, but has a kind heart and the will to protect the world regardless of how people see him. He is not above using violent methods to achieve his goals, but has primarily good intentions, and will clash and work together with Sonic depending on the situation.

That alone is very impressive, but what makes Prime!Shadow stand out even above his Sonic 06 self is the fact that he actually undergoes through subtle, but legitimate character development.

As I had stated in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 1), Shadow starts out as a loner who prefers to stop Sonic from causing the end of world by fighting him instead of talking to him. This is kind of understandable, since Sonic also sucks at communication and listening to other people, including his friends, which is how the whole Shatterverse event starts in the first place, and gets punched by Shadow for causing this whole mess.

In Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 2), I had been pointing out how, after both Shadow got all the frustration he felt towards Sonic out of his system in the first half of Episode 09: Avoid the Void, he manages to convey to Sonic just how much damage he had caused by breaking the Paradox Prism, leading to the two to actually start communicating properly. Of course, it is not perfect, and Shadow certainly gets annoyed by Sonic over the course of the episode, but he is willing to talk rather than to fight.

However, it takes until the second half of the same episode, aka what I covered in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 3) for Shadow to finally realize that he needs Sonic if he wants to fix reality. But before that, we have a good old fashioned rival fight, where Shadow decides to save the world on his own, showing us that, even if the world is at stake, he won't miss a chance to enjoy his fight with Sonic. However, upon his failure to enter the Shatterspaces, he understands that he won't be able to do this without Sonic's help, as he's stuck in The Void. Of course, this is just the beginning of their attempts at proper teamwork and they still won't miss a chance to banter with each other.

Speaking of bantering, we slowly start get more and more of those, as covered in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 4), with Shadow snarking at Sonic while also trying to keep him on track. Not only that, but Shadow also plays a role in stalling the Chaos Council, showing that even if he cannot travel through the Shatterverse, he can still support Sonic in his own way.

When the Chaos Council arrives at Ghost Hill to take the Prism Shards, we finally see what it looks like when Shadow and Sonic team up and it's glorious. Even if their relationship hasn't started out well, you can see how they slowly become better and better as a team, protecting each other and coming up with plans to protect the Shards.

One thing that gets pointed out, however, is Shadow's distrust of other people. In Sonic Prime, Shadow has no friends, which is something Sonic teases him about when Shadow shows clear distrust of Nine. Shadow is right to be distrustful of Nine, pointing out to Sonic how he's not the same as Tails, especially due to how Sonic is projecting Tails onto Nine and treating him as if they were the same person.

However, Sonic is not wrong either in regards to his statement how Shadow needs to learn to trust people, and rest assured, it appears that Shadow actually takes this to heart, as he begins to trust Sonic.

This is seen in the first half of Episode 17: Grim Tidings, which I covered in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 5). Not only does Shadow not blame Sonic for losing the Shards to Nine, but he also keeps reaching out for Sonic, who is grieving the loss of Ghost Hill and his friends, protecting him from danger, reassuring him that they will get the Shards back and comforting him by complimenting him. It's incredibly sweet to see that side of him, a kinder, softer side which he appears to show only around Sonic.

This extends into the second half of the episode, covered in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 6), where Shadow keeps up with his mission to protect Sonic as they try to recover the Paradox Prism from Nine. Not only has their teamwork significantly improved, with both being incredibly in sync, but the moment Shadow realizes that Nine is after Sonic, he abandons the Paradox Prism and instead focuses on saving Sonic from Nine, eventually throwing him out of The Grim and basically sacrificing his own life for Sonic.

I absolutely loved seeing this protective side of Shadow, showing just how much he cares about Sonic and how much he has grown to appreciate him.

(Also, note how Shadow once again has beef with Tails, having fought him in Sonic X and Sonic Boom before).

What follows next is the battle against Nine, covered in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 7), which shows us Shadow and Sonic's contrasting personalities and ideals bouncing off of each other, while working perfectly together. They have now reached a new level of trust, respect and understanding, with Shadow showing complete loyalty towards Sonic, even if their initial methods of reaching their goals clash with each other.

Also, Sonic introduces Shadow as his boyfriend to his Shatterverse friends.

''Probably gonna regret that.'' ''I heart you too, Shadow.''

Oh, did you really think I wouldn't talk about the blatant Sonadow subtext in Sonic Prime? There is a reason why fans nicknamed the show Sonadow Prime.

These two dorks have so much chemistry in this show that it is hard not to ship them together, even if all instances of them working together as a couple were unintentional. Sonic Prime definitely shows the appeal of the Sonadow ship, and if you go by The Sonadow Special Bumblekast Interview with Ian Flynn, these two are probably one confession away from dating each other (even if the ship will never become canon, because SEGA says ''No'' to romance in their Sonic media - a wise decision).

Why am I saying this? Well, Ian says that, in order for Sonadow to be executed, there would have to be an understood vulnerability to Shadow, and he would have to open up to be more accessible at a personal level. He notes how it doesn't take much for it to happen, and that it just has to become established to build that bridge, especially with Sonic being so casual and accepting enough as he is, and he would allow Shadow to be who he is, which is kinda prickly and stand-offish. They would have the occasional moment where Shadow let's his guard down and is more empathetic and emotionally available, but otherwise, they would play it fairly cool and aloof.

Also, how would it be made official that they're together? Ian says how they're so cool and aloof in their own way that he cannot see either of them making some dramatic declaration or turn all mushy and lovey-dovey, as that's not who they are.

''[...] The adventure concludes, and they're standing side by side on the hillside looking at the sunset and the wreckage, and they share, y'know, a compliment, and instead of like, a fist bump or a 'See ya next time', and one of them runs off; maybe they throw arms around each other or something, just kinda stand there. [...] I see them just being very chill about it all.''

So, let me ask you something - in Sonic Prime, which character is starting to show his more vulnerable side, letting his guard down and and reaching out for Sonic, either to comfort him or to protect him?

Yeah, a simple screenshot speaks more than a thousand words.

Also, if you don't care about what Ian Flynn said, just take note of how affectionate Sonic is towards Shadow and Shadow in turn just let's him do whatever he wants. Sonic hugs him, and Shadow doesn't push him back. It's absolutely adorable and it gets even better when we get to the finale!

Episode 23: From the Top (covered in its full form in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 8)) concludes the battle against Nine, with the whole Shatterverse being reduced to nothing. Sonic decides to sacrifice his life to restore the Paradox Prism, and we see Shadow completely heartbroken when he sees that Sonic isn't moving, probably believing that he is dead. I don't think Shadow had ever shown an expression like this in any media.

Fortunately, Sonic is still alive, but barely holding on, leading up to a race against time, where Shadow carries a dying Sonic towards Green Hill.

''I never knew you were a hugger.'' ''Do you want me to save you or not?''

*shouting from the back* Just kiss already!

Hey, I mean, it isn't them throwing arms around each other, but we do have Sonic flirting with Shadow and Shadow responding before the sense of panic sets in when Sonic goes limp.

Fortunately, the day is saved, with Sonic and Shadow retaining their memories of what had happened and remembering what their learned from each other during their adventure (with the Shatterverse probably being wiped out because Sonic doesn't shatter the Paradox Prism).

''I am the Ultimate Lifeform. I go wherever I want.'' ''Wh-huh?'' ''CHAOS CONTROL!''

One thing I don't believe I had mentioned is how there is three times when Shadow declares his status as The Ultimate Lifeform. The first time is a response to Nine's comment about him and Sonic being twins, with Shadow pointing out his uniqueness. The second time he states it is when Nine is shocked to see him defeat Grim Alpha Sonic, with Sonic quipping how he's ''modest too'', showing off that he is adept to battling and will win the fight no matter the odds. And lastly, he states it once again before he teleports the Paradox Prism, noting how he can go wherever he wants, which I believe is him declaring his won freedom to not be tied to anything (like a certain promise) and doing things his way (not to mention the fact that he spent a good chunk of the show floating in The Void, unable to go anywhere).

Unfortunately, as I said before, the ending kinda feels like it's missing something, and while people might point out how it's either perfect the way it is or list a bunch of flaws or seek signs of an nonexistent sequel, the one thing I wanted to see is for Sonic and Shadow to have at least one more conversation.

''If knowing you has taught me anything, there is always another way.'' 'Wait, was that a compliment?''

I wanted them to meet up again and reflect on their adventure, as well as talk how much they have grown closer as a team, with Sonic even offering Shadow to join him and his friends at the beach for a couple of chili dogs. I'd have Shadow be reluctant for a moment, before accepting.

Maybe have Sonic ask Shadow what happened to the Paradox Prism and Shadow assure him that it's in a safe space. Perhaps they could also ponder on what happened to the Shatterverse, and whether it's gone or it still exists. As for Sonic's friends, they would probably wonder since when Sonic and Shadow are now close buddies, with Sonic about to tell them about their adventure in the Shatterverse before Dr. Eggman returns with another scheme and the adventure continues.

I really wanted some kind of finality to show their newly formed bond. After all, there is so much to talk about, like the fact that Sonic definitely had a traumatic flashback to Sonic Adventure 2.

Or have Shadow admit that he doesn't want to lose Sonic by just telling him not to get so reckless again when around another world-shattering stone.

*sighs dreamily*

Oh well, being a writer, I guess I might as well write this alternate ending by myself then. I might let these two have their moment, showing appreciation for each other in their own way.

Also, Shadow is a hugger. That's definitely canon now.

One last thing to mention before I finish this is - what did Shadow do with the Paradox Prism? Well, I have an idea for how this adventure might continue, albeit in a different universe:

Sonic Boom Shatterverse (Sonic Prime/Sonic Boom)

So, does anyone want to see how Boom!Shadow and Boom!Sonic handle their own universe shattering into pieces? Coz I do!

#Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer (Masterlist)

#Ten's Thoughts #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #tails nine #sonic prime #sonadow prime #sonadow #sonic boom #boom sonadow #boom sonic #boom shadow

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 15: poison / word count: 787

When Regulus agreed to babysit Venus (Sirius and Remus' puppy), he thought the seven days they would be out of town would go smoothly. Thinking that was his first mistake.

The thing is, Venus is very quiet most of the time... except in winter when there are thunderstorms. It's winter, and what are the odds of that happening three nights in a row? One hundred percent, apparently. To say that Regulus' apartment was ruined is an understatement. 

His second mistake was thinking he could leave Venus alone for more than an hour to go shopping. Regulus takes full responsibility for this one, as he must have seen the noise complaints from his neighbours coming when he had the idea of leaving the husky with apparent separation anxiety alone.

Completely exhausted from lack of sleep and complaints, Regulus thought he could take some time out to distract himself by watching a movie with the puppy, which of course was Hachiko. They both settled down on the couch in the living room with a large carrot for Venus and a chocolate bar for him, and Regulus clicked play on the film. Regulus considers the eight and a half minutes he was awake an achievement. Third mistake.

One hour and fifty-two minutes later, when something warm licking his hand wakes him up, panic overcomes the youngest Black. Venus seems more energetic than ever, the carrot is intact except for a few bites, and there is no trace of what was left of his chocolate bar.

Missing chocolate + Venus = POISON

It's the equation that appears in neon letters all over his brain. 

Regulus can already imagine the thousand and one ways his brother and Remus will kill him for harming their baby, so for a long minute he sits, paralysed, eyes closed, as Venus chews on the sleeve of his hoodie.

When his phone vibrates, indicating a new message, that's all he needs to react, it's a message from Sirius asking how the little furball is, and just as Regulus is about to call and tell him everything in tears, a new message pops up, causing a light bulb to go on in his head.

J. Potter: Dinner tonight?

And Regulus has never been happier that James never gives up on him, so he decides to call him.

"I wasn't expecting you to call and finally agree to a date with me, but I suppose the solemnity of the occasion deserves it, what time shall I pick you up?" is the first thing he says.

"I need help, something bad happened," the younger man says, running his hand through his now tousled hair several times. There is a noise at the other end of the line, probably caused by a sudden movement.

"Where are you?

"I'm in my flat, but James, I need your help as a professional," Regulus says hurriedly. His brother's best friend has been a vet for about three years, so he should know what to do. 

"But you don't have - oh, is it Venus?"

A few minutes after Regulus chokingly confirms "yes" and explains the situation, James arrives at his flat. As he runs some routine tests on the husky, Regulus can't help but think once again how handsome the vet looks today and how grateful he is to have him in his life.

"Are you sure she ate it? She's not showing any symptoms of chocolate ingestion, her temperature is normal, as is her heart rate, and she's not puking. Have you checked the flat?" the doe-eyed man asks as he finishes his inspection. 

The lack of response is enough for James to start scanning every corner of the living room, and when he pulls the chocolate bar of discord from behind a potted plant, Regulus swears he could kiss him, but the feeling that he's been a complete idiot the whole week he's been with Venus is greater. So when the tears of relief and frustration start to fall, he can't help but feel pathetic. 

"Hey, it's all right, okay?" the older one says, reaching over and grabbing him by the shoulders, "I know taking care of Venus can be draining, I had my fair share of her a while back too. You must be tired, let me take care of you, okay?"

And that's how they end up sitting close together on the couch (only because Venus takes up most of it, that's the only reason, really), wrapped up in a blanket and a cup of chamomile tea, watching an episode of Dr. House that Regulus has already seen about 6 times, and knowing that in a few moments, and for the first time, he'll be the one asking James out on a date.

#a bit late but here she is #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #marauders #len writes